Pre Baby/Post Baby - No one told us this. . .

So, you're gonna have a baby! Ya hoo! Total miracle beyond all miracles! Truly. And then, (we're just gonna take a quick jump thru the exciting changes that come throughout the next 9 months. . . ) :
6 wks: you are feeling a little sick - certain smells are really gonna rock your world - not in a good way. oh - and you are SO tired.
3 months: you are through the scary stage - all appears to be well with the little bambino (sigh of relief) - but, no one can tell you are prego yet - just bloated, maybe even borderline fat, Mabel.
4 months: yeah! you're belly is a tiny little cantelope - starting to show. You're skin is in uproar right now - all these fan-tabulous new hormones coursing through your now widened veins ( which will become spider veins in about 3 months).
5 months: you can find out what you are having! your skin is a little clearer, you aren't nearly as sick anymore - and what's this? you finally moved from bloated to prego! (which will turn into a GIGANTIC mass hanging off the front of your cute little body before this is all over - oh, shoot - i didn't realize this was your FIRST baby. . . sorry. Keepin it real, ladies!
6 months: the girls have arrived. And your man loves them - and you think they look pretty cute too. And your man will continue to love them, until you move into maternal mode (which is coming, if it is not already here) and you ever so gently (not) inform your man that these things are not here for his pleasure anymore - they are tools for feeding - and plus, unbelieveably tender. . . so BACK OFF... honey.
7 months: what's this? your are growing hair and a dark line down your ever-expanding belly? Right. sorry about that. . . any stretch marks yet? (they are coming). Oh - and what was with that weight gain this month? a fluke, i'm sure!
8 months: you can no longer see what your doctor can during the next 4 to 6 visits! you are pretty sure the weight gain will taper off. . . not likely, Mabel.
9 months: Oh, ya hoo! Only four more weeks! Maybe your dr. will induce you?! Probably not. And your cute little cantelope is now a GY-NORMOUS watermelon! and you have been looking the mirror (from the side) thinking, "Oh, look how cute im gonna be again after i have the baby!" as you cover your bulging belly and try to remember how it all looked before you started this adventure! Well, a girl can hope.

So, now your perfect little bundle of joy is here. . . and life is just as you imagined it. . . except your body of course. Lets, just run through that - cuz if you are anything like me, no one told me about all of this.

Post Baby:
Nursing is not a walk in the park. The most natural thing in the world? Hardly.
and then there are the amazing nursing pads you will get to wear for who knows how long - fitted shirts are out, cuz you can see the circle outline of the pad under your shirt. Not that you will want a fitted shirt, because, by now, you are most likely enjoying the (what i so affectionately call) bread dough. that's right, Mabel. Go ahead and go to that happy place of making homeade cinnamon rolls, when you pull the dough out of the Bosch, right before you roll it out - cuz, baby, that's your stomach for the next little bit. And - along the line of rolls, you could probably make your own with all the yeast trading places between you and your sweet baby - break out the nystatin, Mabel - it's a party!
For the next 6 to 8 weeks, you are going to need - for lack of a better description - a diaper for a pad. Remember all those periods we skipped while we were prego? Well, we are gonna make up for them now. And, for the next 6 to 8 weeks, you are going to experience "Night sweats" while your hormones regulate again. And, its not gonna be just a light sweat - you are going to wake up freezing in the middle of the night, because your whole shirt is soaking wet. So, in a nutshell, you are going to be leaking from every place you could possibly leak from for about two months - that's sexy - i don't care who you are - no one told us any of this! Seriously? seriously.

The lot of a mother's 31st birthday

So, i dont know about you - but for me, turning the big 30 was not that big of a deal. I always thought that it would be. I remember being like 8, and thinking, "30 is soooo old!" Now, i can't believe how the time has flown! My point, in short, is that 30 came and went with the wind - and nothing huge really happened. And so, i woke up the other morning, on my 31st birthday, and thought - "wow. Now i really am IN my thirties. And then i thought about what birthdays were like before i became a mother - and how it was your special day - the world seemed to revolve around you for 24 hours. And your parents doted on you, and your boyfriend doted on you, and your roommates threw you a party! Well toto, we're not in Kansas anymore! and i'm gonna go out on a limb here, and say most mothers can relate to what i'm about to decribe...
My Birthday:

Wake up at 5 am to get the baby a bottle and change her diaper. go back to bed - until (at 10 to 6) my 2 year old comes (crying) down the stairs because she is still half asleep and needs to go potty. Now that she is up, she wants a sippy cup of milk - and where is her pink snuggle? she asks. So, i find her pink snuggle. But, it's not the right snuggle. she wants the pink snuggle with the silky on the back. So, we go looking for that. We finally find it - soaking wet in the washing machine (i forgot to switch the load before i went to bed) - and here it comes - the breakdown. so, she throws a tantrum on the floor because she didn't want her pink snuggle to be wet - and clearly she should not be awake yet, because this is a Tired Tantrum. And i look at her and think, "I know! I want to lay on the ground and scream and kick my feet too. . . BECAUSE IT IS MY BIRTHDAY!" But, she's probably a little too young to sympathise. so, we move forward. She wants a yogurt, and to watch Yo Gabba Gabba. But not the Robot one, the Nap Time one. Well - the DVR has convieniently deleted (because of space) the Nap Time episode.
* SIDEBAR: Remember when you just watched what was on the tv, because that was the only choice? And there were only like 5 channels to choose from - and that was IF the bunny ears pulled in all 5 of them. and if you wanted to record a program, you had to find a blank tape and set up the VCR to record, and just hope that you didn't end up with sound and a screen of salt and pepper?! My kids have no idea how lucky they are to have DVR and On Demand - and yes - i'm realizing that i sound all too familar to my dad and grandpa saying. . ."In my day, we had to walk 5 miles in the snow...barefoot...up hill...just to get to school - yada, yada, yada." Seriously? Seriously!
So, now that my 2 year old is happy, my son comes bouncing down the stairs. He does nothing quietly - ever. It is in his nature to be noisy. Noisy steps, loud voice - always clapping or snapping or singing or rambling or bouncing his basketball down the hallway etc. - he is all boy. So, now my 6 year old is awake too. She is not a morning person. My son needs to know where his take home reading book is and wants to know if i have signed it off in his agenda yet. Of course not, because this is the first i have heard of this assignment - which is clearly due this morning. In the background, my 6 year old is speaking Whinese, because she can't believe i haven't gone shopping yet for new cereal (there are only 5 choices in the pantry - how can she be expected to eat the same cereal more than once a week?) - and i am trying to block it out because i dont necessarily want to be "Mother with a Loud Voice" today - on my birthday. And my son continues nagging, saying he can't find his book anywhere - and where did i put it? he wants to know. Because, clearly, if something is lost in this house, it is moms' fault! (Nevermind that i am the only one who finds things around here because i know that just like the game of Peek-a-boo, you actually have to MOVE things and LIFT things up sometimes to find what you are looking for! Why did i spend so much time when they were babies playing Peek-a-boo? It didn't stick.) So, we are looking for the book, and i am giving new options for breakfast to my 6 year old ( how about Oatmeal, or Toast?) and with all the noise, my baby is now awake again. Go get the baby, put her in the high chair, and put some cheerios on the tray. And there it is - the first appreciation for the day - That huge grin with four teeth - i remember for a moment why i love being a mom. But not for long, because now my son and my 6 year old are fighting because HE had that barstool FIRST. Which is obviously a worthwhile argument - i mean - what would we do if he had to sit in the identical barstool sitting right next to the one he is so adamently staking claim to? And here she comes... mother with the loud voice. I turn and look at them both and say (loudly), "No way. No way! It is my birthday. There will be no fighting. There will be no whining. There will not be as much as an ungrateful sigh today. IT IS MY BIRTHDAY! You have to be nice to me 24 full hours today - and not a minute less - Got it?!" And they just stare at me.
and then my son turns to my daughter and says (in an egg-you-on tone), "yeah, Grace." To which she instantly protests, and the fighting is back on. And i just watch them, across the counter, and they are oblivious to me all over again - and i think to myself, "Such is the lot of a mothers' 31st birthday."

Yep. I'm going there. . .

Ever notice how some women are all prim and proper - and others just let it all hang out?! So - i was thinking about this the other day - trying to figure out what makes us one way or the other - and here's what i came up with!
First of all, I think it depends on how many kids you have had - i mean - let's be honest. With every prego adventure, we are slapping our swollen ankles (with nothing but the paper sheet and socks on) up into the stir-ups over and over again. and, just to keep it real - it's important to point out that towards the end, we can't even see what the Vajayjay doctor sees - this is some major trust we have granted! And, further more, at some point or another during this most invasive adventure of fetus growing, we just seem to throw our hands in the air and give up on the grooming issue - unless your Mr. Right is really willing and loving - and you feel like throwing that out there. So, here we are, larger than we ever thought we could possibly be, basically like a turtle (if you end up flat on your back at this point - you are, very possibly, stuck!) and we head to the hospital, willing to do just about ANYTHING to not be pregnant anymore - ( if someone had told us, nine months prior, that at some point, towards the end, if someone gave us the choice to be thrown into labor, and all the blood, sweat, and tears that involves - OR - go home and wait one more day. . . and then we were told that we would unequivocally choose labor - NOW! - we would have thought that person had been hit one too many times with the cuckoo stick!) But, on we go, toward labor, the place where we will lose all sense of privacy. So, this, i think, is where the number of kids we have comes into play with the whole prim and proper or not theme. The more times we do this, the more we let go of this theme of keeping it all pulled together for the outside world. And eventually, this seeps out into every aspect of our lives. It starts little. One of our friends rides in our car somewhere. . . and we choose not to pick it up first. Or, we know our mother in law is stopping by, and we no longer kill our self to make the house and kids look perfect. But from here - watch our sista - welcome to the spiral effect! the visiting teachers pop in, at 4 pm, and we answer the door in jammies with spit up on them - and heaven forbid they ask to come in - cuz, they are about to wade their way through laundry to find a seat - and then, you think you will be clever, and pull off "mom of the year", and say something like, "i was just building tunnels with the kids. . . with all .. . this laundry. . " and it is too late, because now, instead of looking like a busy and exhausted mother, you are a busy exhausted mother telling little white lies! Ugh! and so it is - Here are your choices during motherhood: 1) Try to pull off Prim and Proper, OR 2) Throw your fat ankles up in those stir-ups, and say "Have at it, Doc." - and remember - this season, too, will pass. :)

Turtle

So, i have this thing - where when life gets to be just too much (laundry piling up, my babies in to everything, the dog potty training - or lack thereof, my 2 year old potty training etc. etc. etc.!) - anyway - i have this thing where is just "shell up" and shut down. I don't answer my phone - i don't return calls - i don't go out - except for my daily run to Sonic for a route 44 diet coke w/ lime. . . that's just a given. Those closest to me can see this coming before i do. In fact, my sis and my bff will totally call it before it really hits. There is no reason to be offended - its just part of my package.:) Everyone has a package i've decided. Maybe not a morning person, maybe an over-saturated person, maybe a shopaholic, a gotta have salt person, gotta have chocolate person, a gotta have a DC w/ lime person - okay, so this is basically all in my package - but - whatever! Don't judge Mama - love mama. :) Anyway - the other day, my bff gave my package a name: Turtle. And that is it - she hit the nail on the head - I "shell up, and shut down." And those closest to me know, that i will resurface, and life will continue with RT and loud laughter. . . until i shell up again.

I'm not old enough to drive a minivan

When we discovered we were pregnant with our 3rd, we knew it was time increase our car's holding capacity. Now, for most, three kids can fit in any car - but, we are not most. We are that crazy couple, that had their first 3 kids in 3 years. That's right - our 3rd baby was due on - -none other than - our first daughters 3rd birthday. which also happened to be December 19. Well, she came on December 26 - so, Savannah was a whopping 3 years and 7 days old,and Mason was 14 months old. Clearly, our regular sized car would not fit three 5 point harness carseats across the back seat. So, we were in the market for a new car. a bigger car. About two weeks before we had Gracie, my husband calls and says he has found it. He wants me to go with him to pick it up after work tonight. I knew this day was coming. We had discussed it - and i knew this was the smartest move, with three babies, and getting 3 carseats buckled and unbuckled, loaded and unloaded - and another C-Section delivery around the corner - it just made sense. We would get a minivan.
It was nice. Basically new - in great condition. Silver with grey interior. A few bells and whistles. I tried to be excited. We bought it, he handed me the keys, and said, "Ok babe, see you at home." I cried the whole way home. No matter how i turned it - i just did not feel "hot" in that minivan!! Lets be honest - I did not even feel semi cute. Is this spoiled? Yeah, probably. But, i'm just keepin' it real, ladies.
And so it was. For the next 4 years, we took that minivan everywhere. It took a serious beating. Bottles, sippy cups, fries, chicken nuggets, a few sick kids - sticky crap in the tracks beneath the seats - which became a magnet to every crumb or morsel that was dropped. Filthy? Yes, filthy. The silver minivan eventually became known affectionately as "Wilbur". What's a Wilbur? Lets examine this. Its a He. He is old, for sure. He is loyal, basic. Does he have a smell? Yeah, i would say that when you say the name "Wilbur" - it conjures up a certain smell in your mind - like grandpa cologne. . . maybe Old Spice. He's a good egg, for sure. But, he's not picking you up and taking you out dancing or for a night on the town! And even though "Wilbur" makes you think of a tall, skinny guy - he's kind of hunched over - and its easy to be frumpy around him - cuz he doesn't try to "keep up with the Jones' - he doesn't even know the Jones'."
So - Fast forward to December of 2007. Since we bought Wilbur, we have added another child to the mix, and are in fact pregnant with yet another. Wilbur can handle this. Two of my kids are old enough, that having 3 across the back row of the van no longer creates a car seat dilemma. But, i have grown tired of Wilbur. I to be taken out on the town. I want to pull up to a stop light and think the guy looking at me is thinking, "she's cute" - even if he really is just looking at one of my kids in the seat behind me sticking out their tongue at him - in my world, I'm cute right then! So, i say to my hubby, "Babe, I need a cute car - I am too young to drive a minivan!" And he says, "Yeah, but you are probably also too young to have 5 kids!" So much for sympathy.
Two weeks later, my husband arrives home and honks in the driveway. The Kiddos and I walk outside. . . and there she is: Shakira. She is hot. She is not waiting to be taken dancing - she is the dancer! She is gold with leather (I had never had leather before in a car). She has every bell and whistle. I don't know anything about rims, except for she has sweet ones! Lol! Oh my good gravy - mama is going dancing tonight! The kids and I all load up in our jammies and drive up to my BFF's house (a quarter mile away - big trip!) and lay on the horn til' she comes out! She shares in my bliss! And then it hits both of us - What about Wilbur? Eww. I feel like I'm cheating on him. And then, reality sets in: it's just a car. They are all just cars. But still. . . i feel cuter in this car. :)

Life's Not Fair!!

So - in my head, i saw this weekend going so different. As the New Year rolled in, i committed to making some MAJOR changes - for the benefit of our humble home. I wrote up a schedule - morning routine, after school routine, evening routine. . . broken into the tasks that needed to be accomplished - in some cases, every 15 minutes (am i on crack?! Seriously? Seriously.) I felt re-newed - a new year, a new me, a new family - yada, yada, yada. The first day, Monday - went pretty well. The kids were embracing it - excited even. (My husband, always the realist in our little group, warned that i might be biting off a little more than i could chew (and here's me: don't be so negative honey - have a little faith. . . ) - you all know where this is headed right? It's like being on a train - a super speed train, and up ahead, you can see that the track just ends - just stops - and in your head, you're thinking, surely, by the time we get there, new track will just appear. And here's the worst part - BEFORE you got on the train, the conductor was all, "hey lady, you are gonna be going along at super speed, and then the track is just gonna end. Nobody is building the rest of that track right now. There will be a huge crash at the end of your little trip if you board. . . don't get on this train!" And you look at him and say.: "Ugh - don't be so negative. . . have a little faith". :) Oh, AND - you really prepared to take this trip - i mean, you put in the time to do all the girls hair, and their luggage matches, and you even made matching bows - you know - the kind that cost like 10 bucks a piece? Well, you made em. And, for once, you even feel like you look pretty cute - like, this trip is an answer for you. Well, i don't want to burst the bubble - but i mean - this can only end badly. (Anyone notice how I have turned this around into a segment where i am giving some poor mama a huge helping of excellent advice instead of admitting this is just my story - i'm the poor mama?! Don't know how we got here - gotta be my "mom adhd"! So, i set this plan into action. Get up, work out, get showered. get dressed. (And if its gonna be sweats, atleast make it be your boyfriends from Vickies (Boyfriend sweats from Victoria Secret) - there's no affair here. . . seriously. . i know there are women who do this - but i need another person to take care of like i need a hole in my head - this is madness! Anyway - get dressed. Kids up at 8 - help them make beds, get dressed - down to shoes - so they can take Tank on a walk. When they come back, we will have breakfast. While they eat, i will read them the scriptures - which we will pleasantly discuss. After breakfast, do hair, brush teeth, mouthwash - to protect their pearlies all day - and load the suburban (Shakira - more on that in the mini van post) by 9. Drop off at school by 9:05 - this is on time - my kids are on a later gator track - thank heavens thats an option! This is good on paper, right? Let me toss you a play by play in real life:
I'm up at 6. Heading down to work out on my treadmill (cant go to the gym this week, because I'm on a colon cleanse - too scared to risk being stuck at Golds' in the bathroom - more on the cleanse in a later post!) Just got a new "safety key" from my treadmill company, because last time i used my treadmill, i put the key in "a safe place" - which turned out to be so safe in fact - that i cannot find it! So, for the bargain price of $34, I now have a new plastic safety key (my treadmill doesn't turn on without it). So, i am armed with my new key, my water bottle, my ipod and ear phones, my gum - i am ready - I'm bringing sexy back! I get on my treadmill, I'm feeling strong, increasing speed - and it just STOPS. ERRR. i almost fall because it stops so fast. After searching, well, waking my husband - we discover that the treadmill tripped the socket. Whew. just push the button and start again. I do. It screeches to a stop, again. This time i DO fall - and a few words fall from my mouth. I do this 2 more times - until finally, i go fish out an outdoor extension cord from the garage ( those orange ones) plug one section in upstairs, haul it downstairs and plug in the other end - and Voila - it works. By now, it is almost 7 - i am way behind schedule - but i am on a path - i will not be deterred! I finish my workout, head up to chug down my cleanse shake - sicko - and head upstairs to wake my kiddos. Up up!! Everyone up! I open blinds - which is followed by huge protests. I help make beds, we head downstairs, get shoes on - i hand them the leash - and Gracie, my 6 year old - has a melt down - on the floor. "I don't want to take Tank out, its too cold - i hate the new plan - why can't you do it? (to get this right - you really must whine in your head - my kids are totally fluent in "whinese"). But, i don't want to be "mom with a loud voice" (as my BFF calls it) - so, i stay calm. "Okay, Savannah and Mason, would you mind taking Tank on your own today?" which is amazingly met with, "ok mom". Ahh. Sweet Succatash. SUCCESS. So, they go take the dog, and i make breakfast, and we do scriptures - and I'm thinking "i told you so, honey" - and then i ask them what we read. No clue. They have no clue. That's okay - lets brush teeth. Savannah's toothbrush feels hard - she is sure someone has used it. To which i say - "Oh yeah - there's been this guy on the news that apparently breaks into people's houses at night and uses kids toothbrushes" - which is met with rolling eyes, and an annoyed "Hmf." Could i have been more sensitive? Ok - maybe. And this whole time, in my head, i am thinking,"this is not how I saw this going!" We did make it to school on time - so there's the silver lining! We don't have a "Kodak Moments" life - it just is what it is. Even when i give it my all. It's real. Better luck tomorrow.

Seasons of motherhood

There was a time - not too long ago - that i had things pretty organized as far as my home and family goes! we had three kiddos, 2 girls and 1 boy - and i dare say we had a system - a method to the madness. FAST FORWARD to 2 more babies, both girls, and, yes, a puppy (there's the boy) - lets total that - cuz its my life - and I'm confused!! - so, now we have five kiddy poos - ages 9,7,6,2, and 10 months, and a 4 month old puppy! The line up goes: girl, boy, girl, girl, girl, and boy (dog). Oh my stinkin' heaven! Are ya with me?! So, now, it is just basically complete chaos - to put it gently! And i have found myself on this path to somehow find structure and organization in our lives once again - did i mention there is a home business thrown in there too?! I have read, and investigated all kinds of systems. I have spent money, honey (sidebar - does anyone else LOVE LOVE LOVE Mama Mia?! - you should also know i have what i lovingly call "Mom ADHD" - and it is just that - a million thoughts all at once trying to make their way out of me in some sort of organized manner - i am convinced this is a direct side effect from all the multi-tasking that we do as mothers!) Moving on- I have spent money on countless programs, promising to bring my home order and calm - and does anyone really believe that's gonna happen during this exact "season" in my life?! I'll tell you, that's a big, fat Negative, Good Buddy! So, here i am, committed to embrace this season, instead of fight it - and in the process, maybe, just maybe, i will find the peace and joy i am looking for in our home thru the little things each day. . .