April 9, 2008
Happy birthday, mom. I miss you more than you know. I so wish my children had the opportunity, the pleasure of knowing you. Of talking, laughing, and learning from you.
And I wish you had the opportunity to touch, to hold, to hug and to kiss the kids. They are both amazing. But you already know that, don’t you?
Thank you for being our own special guardian angel. Please continue to watch over all of us and help guide us. Especially your grandchildren.
We love, love, love you.
April 4, 2008
Two nights ago, V awoke in the middle of the night crying a terrifying cry. The Husband ran to the rescue and the following conversation took place:
(crying hysterically) “Mama! Dadda!!!!!”
“Are you okay, sweetie?”
(through his tears) “I had a bad dream!!!!!”
“What was it about?”
(with terror in his voice) “A leopard with a purple jacket!! I’m having a bad night, Dadda”
I didn’t hear the rest of the conversation … I was laughing too hard in the other room.
February 15, 2008
I’m a sucker for family traditions. Growing up, my family was full of them … sentimental ones, fun ones, silly ones and even boring ones. I love them all. So it is important to me that my kids grow up with traditions.
Yesterday was Valentines Day, and we created a new tradition for the holiday. We picked up food from an upscale market/cafe so that it would feel special. I brought out the fancy table cloth, the china, the nice wine glasses, the candles, and the expensive bottle of wine. And we ate our Valentines Day dinner by candle light in our kitchen.
It was perfect. And even though I’m already looking forward to next year, our family made a pact last night. We have pledged to eat dinner by candle light once a week … even if it’s pizza by candle light.
Now that is a newly created family tradition I’m most excited about!!
What about you? I’d love to hear about your family traditions - on Valentines Day or otherwise!
February 11, 2008
Last week I made an appointment to see my primary care physician. I love him - he’s young, he’s funny, and he never comes in to see me without his laptop. At his fingertips, he has all of my history, my vitals, etc. - and in a few clicks he can quickly look up information to help him explain side effects of this drug or that.
I’ve been on cholesterol medication for several years. I’ve tried diet. Exercise. Soy. Nothing worked to lower my numbers. Both my mother and my grandmother had extremely high cholesterol as well - lucky me.
When I was trying to get pregnant, my doctor suggested going off of the mediation. I’ve been of for over three years now since it took us nearly 2.5 to get pregnant. So the purpose of my appointment was to talk about going back on the medication.
As I mentioned in earlier posts, I had very high blood pressure towards the end of my pregnancy. Both pregnancies, actually. But after my first-born, the blood pressure returned to normal right away.
Not so this time around.
It’s not dangerously high, but it’s high. The doctor has given me four weeks to concentrate on 4-5 days a week of exercise in hopes that it will lower the pressure.
I’m not in any kind of immediate danger, however this has been a wake up call for me. As you likely know, I’m of “advanced maternal age” - having just given birth at 41 years of age. If I have a chance in hell of living long enough to attend my kids’ weddings, I’ve got to get ahold of my health. I’m 20 pounds overweight. And yes, I just had a baby - but I’m only about 8 pounds away from my pre-baby weight.
Thank goodness the weather has been nice, as it’s allowed me to take the baby out for a walk everyday. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t walk as trying to get to the gym is impossible. I don’t currently belong to a gym to begin with. I looked in to a gym down the street that has daycare - but they don’t take babies less than 3 months old. That does me no good.
Another option is the raquet club we join every summer … but that’s a very expensive option, and I can’t justify it from a budget standpoint.
So you’ll find me walking for now. And riding my bike on the weekends … oh, how I love my bike. And hopefully you’ll find me 20 pounds lighter in two months time!
January 29, 2008
Six weeks ago today, my little girl was born. It really does feel like it was just yesterday. And I know I’ll be saying the same thing while I help her plan her wedding. Unless, of course, she takes after her mother and elopes.
I don’t enjoy the infant stage. There. I said it. I’m actually comfortable saying it. It is what it is. I love my children with a love I’ve never before experienced. A deep, joyful, painful, sweet, amazing, terrifying kind of love. But I don’t love the infant stage. I’m doing a bit better with it this time around because I now know the payoff. And I also know that in the grand scheme of things, the infant stage of things lasts such a short period of time. Time flies.
I must also admit that I’m struggling with taking care of two kids. I feel a little embarrased to admit that because there are millions upon millions of moms that have raised not only two, but many more than two children and survived. Even look back upon it with great joy. And they did it without any help - back in the day when dad’s were mere providers and never changed a diaper. My own mother-in-law raised seven.
I have a husband who is a tremendous help. I have family that comes to help. Friends that help. Yet I still feel like I’m drowning sometimes. Perhaps it’s a hormonal thing that will improve once my system returns to normal? I certainly hope so. Or perhaps it’s because I’m old and set in my ways, thus less flexible to the demands of parenting. I’ve noticed this trait in loved ones - especially my dad. The older he gets, the less flexible he is - even unwilling to spend an evening in his favorite city, San Francisco, because of the traffic, the crowds and the complicated parking.
If I’m struggling this much with an infant who is fairly predictable and easy - how in the world will I manage when I have an active four year old coupled with an active toddler? Oi.
I will manage. I will survive. And I will benefit greatly. I know this … I’m just trying to patiently wait for time to fly right on through the infant stage.
January 24, 2008
This posting will likely make little sense, will surely jump around aimlessly from topic to topic, and more than likely will be posted before it’s actually finished. You see, there’s very little I can finish these days - other than feedings and diaper changes.
I realize I’m likely preaching to the choir here - but I seriously don’t remember it being this difficult with the first child. This all-consuming. This exhausting. Of course, I didn’t already have a child when V was born. Now there’s two little ones wanting and needing my attention. All of my attention. All of the time.
More wine, please.
A perfect example … I started typing this over 1/2 hour ago and look how far I’ve gotten. How foolish of me to think I could steal ten minutes of me-time. I did get a shower today - albeit no time for shaving the legs - it’s too bad I’m past my hippie stage. But a shower and computer time? No way, baby … not uninterrupted, anyhow.
Subject change. Let’s talk about push presents. I don’t know how I missed out on this with my first child - but I certainly worked it with the birth of SOF. When some good friends of ours had their first child back in May, they asked my Husband what he got me for a push present when I had V. Answer? Nothing … he’d never heard about the push present. So when the Husband asked me why I never told him about the “tradition”, I told him not to worry as he now had his chance to make it up to me!!
Here’s the link to Betty, Push Present #1. Mine’s the black and pink one. And she’s purrty!!
And here’s Push Present #2. Me-ow!
December 30, 2007
My New Year’s Resolution?? To get back on track with my blogging - oh, how I’ve missed it!!
December was a crazy busy month - actually November AND December were crazy. V turned four years old on December 4th. Because I knew I’d be too pregnant to want to want to throw a party in early December, we celebrated his birthday in early November. It was his first birthday party as I had told myself I wouldn’t throw a traditional kids birthday party until he was old enough and interested enough to ask for one. Literally about three days after his third birthday passed, he started asking for a birthday party!! So, he got one for his 4th birthday.
I took the easy route and had it at a bounce house place. Those places are a God-send for busy parents. They take care of everything. We just wrote the check. It was awesome and V and his friends loved it!
Sometime in early November I started getting depressed when thinking about the upcoming birth of our daughter and how it might affect my relationship with V. The mornings are the most special time for V and I. It’s when we spend quality time together - just the two of us - cuddling, talking, playing. I know that’s likely going to end once the baby comes - even if for a little while - and the thought of that is killing me. It’s the best part of my day and it makes me so sad to think of not having it.
I finally wrapped up things at work on December 7th and was looking foward to a good 2-3 weeks of me-time before baby G’s arrival. She had other plans. At about 2:00am on the morning of December 17th I started having contractions. Not heavy, not painful - but often. I had four within the span of 15 minutes and because of my condition and high blood pressure, I was told to call the doctor if I experienced more than four contractions in an hour.
So I called.
My doctor told me to come to the hospital. I was sure I’d just be monitored for an hour or so and come back home, so I drove myself and let my husband sleep. But long story short, my blood pressure was extremely high (185 over 135) - so they immediately hooked me up to an IV, took some blood and found that it contained protein, which meant pre-eclampsia to the degree that they worried it would move to eclampsia quickly. They informed that they needed to take the baby immediately. My health depended upon it.
Surgery would start in 30 minutes - with or without my husband. I was terrified. Luckily we live less than a mile from the hospital and luckily we have good friends who came over to take care of V - and my husband made it to the hospital just as I was rolling in to the OR at 6:00am.
Our little girl was born 3.5 weeks early - but very healthy and strong - at 6:44am on December 17th. She weighs just over five pounds, so I”m calling her my little Sack of Flour - or SOF. And now that it’s been just about two weeks since the surgery, I’m finally feeling stronger and able to get around!
V has been a dream with his little sister. At first he didn’t pay much attention to her, but that’s been increasing each day. He’s not acted out. He’s not asked to send her back. He’s been amazingly perfect about the whole ordeal. I’m convinced that’s because Christmas came only a week after his baby sister, and he received so much attention - and so many gifts - that that distracted him!
On Christmas Eve we went to my dad’s house, where Santa came for a vist. I hadn’t taken V to see Santa at all yet as the thought of hitting the mall and standing in line at 9 months pregnant was enough to send me over the edge. So it was important to me to make sure V would be at my dad’s so he could see Santa - even though I wasn’t feeling strong enough.
When Santa came in the house, V’s eyes got as big as saucers. He immediately ran up to him and just stared. All of the kids (about 15 of them) surrounded Santa as he announced that he had a bag of toys for all the good little girls and boys and that they all needed to sit down so he could hand them out. I noticed V with a look of terror on his face as he quickly scanned the room to try to find me. Once he did, he ran up to me with tears filling his eyes and asked me in a shaken voice:
“Mama? Have I been a good boy??”
It was the cutest thing EVER and brought tears to my eyes! I told him yes, and a look of relief mixed with joy came across his face as he ran back to Santa and took a seat to his right - and waited patiently for his toy.
The poor kid had to wait and wait as his toy was the last one out of the bag. With each toy that came out of the bag, V waited for his name to be called and when it wasn’t called his facial expression turned from anticipation and joy to concern and then near panic - and then relief when Santa finally called his name. My heart felt for him as I remember that feeling as a child as if it were yesterday!
All in all, our holidays were blessed - not only with the arrival of SOF, but with the time spent with family and good friends. We are looking forward to a fantastic ‘08 and wish you and yours an amazing New Year!!
November 16, 2007
Wow. It’s been a long time since I’ve posted … and it’s been a long time since I’ve read any of my favorite blogs. Of those I have on my google reader, I have nearly 800 posts I’ve not yet read! Eee gads!!
First things first … why. Why have I seemingly disappeared off the face of the blog-o-sphere? One word … pregnancy. It’s been a real bitch for me, people. It’s all I can do to get through a day without losing my mind. Between the “complications” of this pregnancy, trying to get work in order so that I can be out of the office for 4 months, and chasing after a very energetic almost four year old, I’m drowning.
Oh, and the guilt. Perhaps it’s the hormones, but the guilt is sometimes crippling. I’m pregnant. I’m creating life. I should be glowing, excited, unbelievably happy, grateful, feeling oh-so-blessed.
NOT. Hence, the guilt.
I’m not sure if it’s the fact that I’m “advanced maternal age”, but this pregnancy is kicking my ass. I recall not exactly enjoying being pregnant the first time around, but this is so much worse. I should start by explaining that all is going well with the baby as of now. It’s me and the fact that I seem to be falling apart.
I have cholestasis - which is pregnancy-induced liver disease. Lucky me. First the good news:
- with ongoing monitoring, the baby should be fine
- I will deliver early
- my liver will return to normal after giving birth
And the bad news?
- there’s nothing that can be done about it
- I have an all-over body itch that is present all day, every day and is driving me insane. It’s an itch that comes from inside, so it’s not like I can use a lotion or take a bath or do anything to relieve it. The ONLY thing that provides a bit of relief is Benadryl. Which makes me sleepy - and which I haven’t been able to take in the last few days because my blood pressure has started to rise.
Add the feelings of guilt to the ever-present, overwhelmingly annoying body itch, and you’ve got one depressed Mama G.
Hence my disappearance.
I will return eventually - to both posting here and commenting on all of your blogs as well! In the meantime, have a fabulous holiday season with you and yours …
Cheers!
October 16, 2007
We just returned from a weekend spent at the family cabin near Yosemite, only this time we went with friends rather than family. It was fabulous and I wish I were still there right now!
One of the couples that joined us are newer friends. Friends we met through friends. They have two kids – two kids that worked my last nerve quite a bit – which, admittedly isn’t difficult considering I’m pregnant and therefore a bit cranky. I had been warned that they were “high energy” kids, but I never dreamed that high energy was really the nice way of saying “loud, very tempermental” children.
The Husband and I found ourselves discussing these kids, and their behavior, for a good part of the drive home. Their parents are so nice. So seemingly normal. And seem so involved. Is it just that these kids are hard-wired to be the way they are? Or is it because of the way their parents do or do not discipline them?
Bottom line was that I found myself feeling bad for these parents. I believe they are doing the best they know how in trying to raise these kids. I’m no mom-of-the-year, but I’ve seen Super Nanny enough times that I did notice a few things that they should have been doing, and aren’t. As well as things that they are doing, but shouldn’t. But I did the smart thing and kept my big mouth closed. None of my business – and no one asked for my opinion. And, we all survived relatively unscathed from the weekend …
The highlight of the weekend took place at the Ahwahnee Hotel in Yosemite. We decided to stop there for lunch and as we were walking inside, we passed two men standing by two beautiful very high-end Harley Davidson motorcycles. I made contact with one of the men and immediately thought to myself “I know him from somewhere”, however the thought left my brain the very next second because, well, that just happens now that I’m pregnant.
Fast forward twenty minutes or so and we find ourselves sitting outside on the patio at the table next to these same two men. And the tables really are quite close – such that we can hear each other’s conversations. The man that looked familiar to me is very obviously watching us – six loud adults with five rambunctious children – as I “caught” him looking over our way more than a few times. He must recognize me as well.
I know him. I definitely know him.
But how? I’ve not a clue.
Finally, as he was looking over our way I caught eye contact with him. “You look so familiar”, I say to him. “I know I know you from somewhere, but I can’t place it. Do I look familiar to you?”
He gets a shit-eating grin on his face, and tells me that I don’t look familiar to him.
I proceed to ask him if he’s from the town in which I currently reside. He tells me no. What about the town in which I grew up? No.
I’m stumped. I let it go and refocus my attention on the kids. A few moments later my girlfriend, giggling, says to me that the reason the man looks familiar is because it’s Tony Danza. Of “Who’s the Boss” fame.
No sooner did the words exit her mouth did it occur to me. No, it’s not Tony Danza. But yes, it is someone famous. Which explains the shit-eating grin he gave me.
It was Matt LeBlanc. Joey Tribbiani. Looking older than I would have guessed, but it didn’t matter because he was very nice.
I never let on to the fact that I finally figured out who he was. I’m sure he got a good laugh over it later, as we did.
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On the pregnancy front, I’m not sleeping well, I’m dropping things constantly and can no longer easily bend over to pick them up, and I’m exhausted. Otherwise, still on track for a Christmas or New Year holiday baby.
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The sewing addiction has not yet subsided. I’ve made somewhere near ten outfits now – and have even made a few for gifts. I bought an entire bolt of fabric yesterday because I found it on sale for $2 per yard, and I love it. That, and I think I might try to use it to make a few dresses and try to sell them. Every person I’ve shown the clothes to is telling me that I need to sell them. Here are just a few photos of what I’ve made so far:
October 5, 2007
I didn’t have the balls today to say to you what I really wanted to say, so I’m using my blog as an outlet to do so if for no other reason that to hopefully make myself feel better. Perhaps give myself some closure.
You’ve disappointed me. And I’m sad about that.
It was a little over a year ago when I was proud to call you my friend. I truly enjoyed our talks, our lunches together, the times spent laughing and trying to solve all of the world’s problems. Or at least the problems we had in our little world.
I appreciated your advice and felt like I was helping you out when offering you mine. Ours was a friendship from which we both benefited.
Or so I thought.
But one day, it all ended. Without warning. And boy, it stung. At first I thought that you were just going through something and needed your space from those that were close to you. But before long, it was obvious that I was the only person from which you needed space. I was confused. Hurt. Sad. If I gave you your space, I thought, maybe you would come back.
You didn’t. And rather than confronting you, I let your friendship go. It wasn’t until six months later that you told me why. And the why was so unbelievable to me that all I could do was cry in frustration. The why, after all, was a lie. Something you had heard that I had said about you. But something that I had never said.
Why didn’t you value our friendship enough to approach me six months sooner and ask me about it then?
Our friendship never returned to the level it once was. Sure, we had lunch a few times after that talk – but it was just two people having lunch, never two friends. I didn’t have it in me to give you my friendship after being burned, and I’m not sure you had any interest in giving me yours.
So now you’re moving on and saying your good-byes. And what you did to me today stung as fiercely as when you first decided to end our friendship without my consent and without warning.
Although there’s a part of me that would like to stand up and say FUCK YOU, I won’t. Maybe one day you’ll learn that it’s your loss. Truly. Your loss.
Good luck to you.
