The End and Beginning

In just a few hours another year will end and a new one will begin. Everywhere you hear about new beginnings, resolutions, changes people want to make with the start of a brand new year. Normally I am one of those people shaking my head saying it will never happen. However, what I have to say now goes so far from my norm, and I am afraid I have become one of those people. 
The year 2014....well....it sucked. It just did. I see all of my friends on Facebook making those cute little 'year in review' movies about how great 2014 was, and honestly, I could not see myself ever making one of those because I spent a great part of the year struggling and dealing with things I never thought I would face. Did 2014 end that way? Not by any means. In fact, the latter part of the year has been nothing but blessings. I made that change, you see, way before December 31st. It was more like September 30th. 
I am closing this blog because of a new step I have made in my life. I finally did what always had been considered a pipe dream in my mind, something I have wanted to do but always thought it would never happen and was impossible. I started my own solo law practice. I am my own boss. And I love it.
However, with starting my own practice and representing clients as well as going up against people who may not always like me or wish pleasant tidings to me and my family, I have decided that it would be in T's and Aubrey's best interests if I shut down this blog. It has been an honor to share my heart and my life with all of you, but now that I am out in this field, some things are best kept private. In fact, I was debating not having a blog at all, but the problem is - I love writing and I love opening up. I know so many professionals out there who do just that but do so in an appropriate manner. So that is what I have chosen to do.
If you do want to learn more about my law practice, please feel free to visit my site. I am so excited about what this new change will bring, and I am focusing on faith, not fears as I start this new year. Hence the name of the new blog: Faith, Not Fears.
I hope for those of you who have kept up with my blog (despite the lack of activity since September) will follow me into this new venture. I thank all of you from the bottom of my heart for reading, for your comments and support through so much. So much has changed since I started this blog in May 2010. I got married. We built a house. I had a baby. I lost someone very close to me. I struggled with postpartum depression and opened up about my fears as a new mother. I changed jobs. I made mistakes. I laughed. And I was blessed. I am truly honored for those of you who have been with me all of the way. Thank you!

My movie virgin

My husband must have never watched movies growing up.  Seriously, he has seen pretty much nothing.  Ever.  I knew this going into our relationship, but sometimes it just hits me just how sheltered from movies he has been.

The man has never seen the Wizard of Oz or any part of Gone with the Wind.  Granted, Gone with Wind is not exactly a “guy” movie, but still it’s a classic.  Shawshank Redemption?  Never seen it.  Hell, the movie is played all the time on TBS or TNT on weekends, isn't it? Granted, I know that most of our weekend time is spent watching Disney or Sprout PBS, but still….did he ever watch TV or movies in high school or college?

None of the Oceans 11 series.  I was the one who introduced him to Airplane! when we first started dating.

The other night we were watching Dancing with the Stars (well, no, I was watching it and T was begrudgingly trying to ignore it), and the theme was movie night.  One of the movies featured was Ghost.  He had never even heard of it. 

Tommy Chong (yes, of Cheech and Chong) danced to a “Scent of a Woman” theme.  This is my husband’s response:

“What is this movie? Does the woman smell? What is this movie about?”

I turn and stare at him, not responding.

The one that shamed me the most was Back to the Future one.  The actress who played Loraine, the main character’s mom, is on the show so of course she danced to “Power of Love” by Huey Lewis. T starts making fun of the song: “What movie plays Huey Lewis and the News?” “T, it’s in the movie – very important.” So I try explaining who she is and what the movie’s plot was as T gives me a blank stare. 

“Have you ever seen the movie?”

“No.”

“But wait, you laughed at my cousin’s joke about the DeLorean. That’s a movie reference. Did you get it?”

“I knew it was in the movie.”

“Yeah but you can’t laugh at a movie reference when you don’t even know what it’s about.”

Then I turn to him and ask “what kind of bomb shelter did you grow up in? Did you even own a TV? Did you leave the house?”

I’m not sure he can be saved. I thought we could make a list and check-off movies as we see them, but I am not even sure there’s enough time to handle such a task. It’s insurmountable. 

Pumpkins with our pumpkin

Sunday we took Aubrey to the pumpkin patch because, as she put it every time she saw a pumpkin "Aubrey got no pumpkins."  It was a nice Indian summer day (note the shorts) so we headed out to collect three pumpkins.  One small for Aubrey, medium one for Mommy and big pumpkin for Daddy.  All the rain this year must have been kind to the pumpkin crop because we got some pretty nice ones.  Of course, they were heavy, and Aubrey thought she would help Daddy haul them to the car...

We had fun playing around the pumpkin patch/apple orchard.  They have a petting zoo, rides and other little things for kids to do (and parents to spend money, of course).  Aubrey had a good time, and that's all that counts.  This smile...

She LOVED the cider.  We each got a little cider jug, and she downed hers pretty quickly.  I love this picture, btw...

Anyway, so we have been going to this place since I was first pregnant with Aubrey, and every year, we take a picture at the same place.  It did not start off like a tradition or anything, but it has kind of worked its way into one.  Looking through these pictures, it's amazing how things change and how the time flies.  I believe somewhere around six months pregnant with Aubrey....

I don't have one from 2012 but this was us at the pumpkin patch then...

Aubrey and Mommy 2013....

Aubrey and Mommy 2014....

She has gotten so big!  Hopefully we will keep this up as she gets older, though I doubt she will always want to get a picture with good old Mom.  

Where do I go from here?

Monday morning I will be doing something that I have not done in about twenty years.  I will not be going to work.  Not because I’m sick or on vacation, but because…well…I don’t have a job. 

By choice, mind you.  I’m not going into it because I am a professional, and I do not under any circumstances talk about my employment at all but I had to make a decision that was hard, took a lot of thought and was the right thing for me to do.  However, I did it without the big thing I always have in the past – I did not have a job waiting for me.  I won’t go into why either, but that’s not what matters to me at this point.  What matters to me is….

What the hell do I do Monday?

I have worked since I was basically 12 and started babysitting, then working at Baskin Robbins, daycares, and so on…I don’t think (aside from first year of law school) I have ever NOT been employed.  Hell, I worked when I was studying for the bar exam.  So this is something that scares the hell out of me.   I worked during my maternity leave, for God’s sake! 

I am struggling with the feeling that I am letting my family down, and I am not going to lie that I am freaking out like you would not believe.  I am fortunate, however, that I am in a two-income household, and also, I do have my writing.  I’m not raking it in by any means but I am bringing in something.  But still…

Friday night and Saturday morning found me quickly applying for various freelance writing opportunities until T essentially pulled me away from the computer and told me to stop and take a breath.  That and think.  It is going to be hard, yes.  It is going to suck, yes, but I need to take this time to breathe and take care of myself, as well.  I did not just get mono for absolutely no reason, after all.  “You can start looking for writing gigs and then permanent jobs on Monday.” 

What am I going to do?  That is a whole other post for another day.  For now, I am taking as many freelance opportunities I can and potentially doing contract legal positions as I do some real soul searching.  I need to decide what it is I really want to do.  I need to find something that actually makes me happy.  For so long I have jumped from job to job because I had to and because I needed that immediate income.  But none of those jobs were right for me, and what did that bring me? A resume’ with lots jobs for short periods of time, and I never wanted that.  So I have some serious thinking to do, but a lot of writing in the process. 

And I’ll be damned if I sit on the couch watching daytime TV all day.

In the Wiggle house

I was doing so well with writing posts!  Darn it, what happened?  Oh right.  Life.  Anyway, a lot has happened since I last posted.  One of those being we got free tickets from Aubrey's daycare and got to see....

Yep, that's right.  The Wiggles!  Me, Nain - the person who never in a million years thought she would go to something like this - voluntarily went into an auditorium of toddlers dancing to kid's music.  But I did it for her, because this face was worth it:

Dude, she was excited.  When we first told her that she was going to see the Wiggles, I'm not sure she understood until we got there and they actually came out on stage.

Did you guys know that they have a girl Wiggle now?  And she's pretty talented, too.  I have to admit they did put on a good show.  This concert was not one of those either where they make you wait and go on stage like 30 minutes late.  Nope, not when you are dealing with toddlers.  You start on time and end before 8:00.

She was mesmerized, especially during the ballerina part where the girl Wiggle (Emma) and another ballerina danced.  I'm thinking someone is going to be a ballerina for Halloween.  She loved it.

It was a weeknight, and logistically with T coming from Columbus and me working downtown with the concert being at 6:30 downtown, it was a nightmare but we pulled it off and it was SO worth it just to see her smile like this.

So Aubrey has been to her first concert and the young age of two, and it was so much fun.  If only I could stop singing the damn songs now..
Fruit salad!  Yummy Yummy!

Blessed weekend

We’re wrapping up this much-needed long weekend, and I am telling you I could so go for just one more day.  Not just one more day with a child in my presence, however, but just one more day.  Of sleep.  Glorious sleep.

We had T’s family down from Michigan this weekend, and any time family visits is always a super fun time but also exhausting.  Aubrey was in heaven seeing her Grandpa and Nana, and I’m not going to lie…it was nice having someone to entertain the kid every now and then, though Mommy was still in high demand.  We even met up with my parents at a local winery for an Irish band concert and wine, so Aubrey was spoiled by both sets of grandparents.  The parents stuck around for a fire pit that night, so it was a lot of good bonding time with the parents and children.

I love watching how close Aubrey is with both of her grandparents.  I want her to have that good relationship like I did with my own grandparents.  So it makes my heart so happy to see her loving all over her grandparents.  She was in her element, too.  The kid was so hyper it was ridiculous.  At one point I considered putting a stake in the grass outside and tethering her so she could just run around and get the energy out.  In that respect, it will be good to have things get back to normal with school and what not. 

It is funny because I imagine T’s parents were more than ready to leave come Monday evening.  They love Aubrey, I know, but they also do not live with a toddler full-time.  I am guessing they longed for that peace and quiet, no matter how much they love spending time with her. 

I do feel blessed T and I have good relationships with both sets of parents, and I know we are lucky in what we have.  It really makes you step back and just realize what you have through these little moments like watching your daughter hug your mom or hold her Nana’s hand as she walks to the car.  Or tell her Grandpa to stop hammering because his hammering noise was scaring her pee pee as she sat on the potty.  Or watching her lay her head on my dad’s lap after a busy and warm afternoon outside.  It is those moments. 

Or it is those moments where she gives you a big hug and tells you “you’re my friend.”  Those moments are pretty damn good too.  

Just Mommy and me....

I have been told that the things your children will cherish when they grow up are not the things you bought them or how much money you spent on them but the things you did with them and memories you created.  I really do believe this is true.
Monday Aubrey was pretty sick so we did spend the entire day in the house resting and watching TV (see previous posts), but on Tuesday when I had to stay home and eat a vacation day because of the daycare 24 hour rule, I wanted to make the most out of it and get out of the house.  I didn't want to keep her cooped up only watching TV all day.  However, the summer weather has finally hit in Indiana so going outside wasn't a great idea, given how sick she was on Monday.  We did try to go out first thing in the morning for a bit - riding her tricycle and wagon to the playground where we were disappointed to discover all of the slides were wet from rain and morning dew.  So we went home and headed to the library and read books and played trains for awhile before lunch and "nap." (Note: no sleeping took place.  Axl Rose tore up her room again but at least it was not poop on the walls mess.  I'll take it.)
After "nap," I got the idea to go get some frozen yogurt or "ice cream" from what I told Aubrey because she would have no idea what the difference was but lactose intolerant mommy sure would.  So we went to one of those serve yourself yogurt places.  She loved it, as you can see by the photo below.  I asked her what she wanted - pink ice cream and sprinkles.  Mommy got cake batter (YUM) with white chocolate chips.  And don't be fooled by the bowl in the picture.  They had one cup only so no way did I fill up that giant cup for either of us.  But we had a Mommy/Aubrey day and had fun, heading home for me to do some writing.  But I decided to put the laptop away when I heard a sweet voice say "come play with me, Mommy!"  How can you say no to that?  We ran around the house and played under the dining room table with the Magna Doodle.  I loved every minute of it.  And I wouldn't have gotten to do it had it not been for that 24 hour rule.  So good things do come out of not-so-great things.
Wednesday night as we were getting her ready for bed, I said to T that Aubrey and I bonded the day before, and he asked Aubrey "did you bond with mommy?" She turned to him and said "uh-huh, we got ice cream.  I got pink and Mommy got orange."  So clearly that meant something to her, too, even if at only 2 years old.  
That's all I needed to hear.  And this smile?  A picture says a thousand words, doesn't it?

But you only have one

A stigma is out there regarding people who choose to only have one child.  I was not really aware of it growing up as I was the youngest of three and always that that only children had it so made because they got all of their parents’ attention and got anything they want.  Of course, that misconception has quickly been erased now that I am the mother of an only child.  Home girl does NOT get whatever she wants, let me tell you that.  Anyway, now that I am the mother of an only child, I now get the stigma.  There’s a stigma for everything, though – oh you didn’t breastfeed?  Oh you had your child via c-section?  Oh you are sending your child to private school?  (Judge, judge, judge)

Anyway, where I’m going with this….

Since I have had Aubrey, I have heard the phrase or statement of “Oh, trust me I understand…you only have ONE child.  I have (insert number larger than one).”  Or I even heard the statement of “you’re not really a parent until you have more than one child.”  Oh really?  I seem to have stretch marks that would beg to differ.

I am not sure why people think it is acceptable to make these statements, and I am not sure on what basis they stem.  I have come to realize that people say some really stupid things without thinking over the course of my 33 years on this planet.  It does not mean it does not sting just a bit when someone says it.  One of those most recent statements had to do with me having a hard time leaving my child.  “Oh trust me, I would know.  I had more than one child.”  Okay, so does the difficulty in leaving one’s child increase with the number of children you have?  I have one child so surely I could not miss my child as much as someone who has three, right?  Or, I have a hard time leaving my child, and I have only one child whereas if someone has more than one child and is perfectly fine leaving his/her children, then there is something innately wrong with me or that makes me weaker?  Oh.  I didn’t realize.  Noted for future reference.

I have gotten the statements of “oh, well, you have that heart condition so it’s okay that you only have one.  It’s for your health and safety.”  Um, yeah, even if I didn’t have a health condition, if I chose to have one child, that’s my and T’s business alone.  I don’t need a justification.  Nor do I need judgment. 

A parent is a parent is a parent.  Having Aubrey changed me forever.  Yes, if I were to have another child, I would be changed even more, I am sure.  But I do not believe for a second that if I were to have a second child, that would make me more of a parent.  I am a parent. 

I’ll put that right next to the statements of “well, when you become a real attorney” when referring to my working at DCS or as a pro bono attorney. 

I’ll get off my bitch box now. 

Someone help me...stuck in cartoon hell

Oh, the 24 hour rule.  Your child has to be symptom free for 24 hours before returning to daycare.  I totally forgot about that, and I felt just awful trying to drop Aubrey off at daycare yesterday morning.  (See yesterday’s post about being mom of the year – go, Nain! Way to read that parent manual!) 

I think in a way I was really wanting to drop her off because the two of us need a break from each other.  With it being so hot outside and her being sick, we’ve been cooped up in the house. Monday involved a lot of television, too, which I know, I know…it’s bad to have that much screen time but when your kid just wants to lay around because she feels so terrible, some TV is just what she needs.  However, that meant watching her shows over…and over…and over. 

We DVR the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse due to her obsession with Mickey and Minnie, and we DVR the show called Super Why.  Both of these shows are so much better than Cailou so I really should probably not complain but I swear…I saw these episodes two times each at minimum.  And with all of these shows, I had many questions that came to mind.  Deep questions.  Questions that you think only after watching hours of mindless children’s television programming…

So Goofy is a dog, right?  And so is Pluto?  So why can Goofy talk and Pluto can’t? 

Pete is a cat? (Mickey Mouse Clubhouse) He doesn’t even resemble a cat.  How in the hell is he a cat?

Does Mickey ever stop smiling?  Is it all of the Prozac that makes him eternally happy? 

Is it just me or does Mickey’s clubhouse look like a bunch of dismembered body parts?

(Copyright Disney)

Are the Mickey characters adults or kids? 

So all of the trains on Thomas and Friends cause all of this “confusion and delay,” but they clearly have conductors driving the trains so what is the point of that?  These trains seem to just do whatever they want so those conductors seem to be just unnecessary.  If they really did anything why wouldn’t they just stop the trains from doing stupid shit all of the time?

The Island of Sodor seems pretty dangerous with all of these “accidents” these trains cause.  A lot of derailed cars, if you ask me.  I wonder how much insurance premiums are there?  How is Sir Topham Hat still employed?

Is Sir Topham Hat emotionally abusive to those trains?  It’s a lot like North Korea there if you ask me.  And how did he become a knight?  Who are those two men that just stand behind him like Secret Service wherever he goes?

They are so scared of ticking him off and all they want to be is a “useful” engine.  I sense some brain-washing. 

So the Berenstain bears are talking, human-like bears but they have pets like cats and dogs.  How is that possible?  I mean, if one animal can talk wouldn’t every other animal be able to do the same? 

Did you know there’s a show called Dog with a Blog?  Seriously.  It is one of those Disney shows that is on after the Disney Jr. stuff.  For those of you who have been with me for a while you know all too well that I absolutely hate things with talking animals.  So this show….yeah, I hate it.  Luckily I didn’t have to really watch it.  Thank God, but it better be off the air when she’s at the age to start liking that stuff because I really don’t have the patience for that.

That Sarah and Duck show….who is this creepy man that follows them around (the narrator?)  Where are her parents?  What’s wrong with this kid that her only friend is a duck?

And what happened to the original Wiggles?  They have a girl now?  When did that happen?

So yeah, I need to go back to work.  This isn't healthy for me or Aubrey.  The numbers of brain cells I have lost over the past few days are going to take a while to replace.  

Mom of the year

Mom guilt.  I hate it.  I used to hear my friends throw that term around and think they were just being dramatic, but now that I’m there, I totally get it.  That guilt you have when you leave your child at daycare all day?  Been there.  That guilt that comes along with not knowing something was very wrong at your child’s daycare?  Yep. 

And then there are the little things.  I got my very first “you’re a mean mommy” the other day after I took her toys that she was using to scratch at her door during nap time even though I told her I’d take them away if she kept it up.  I was right in what I did, but man that stung.

This past weekend I was kind of striking out, as well.  Aubrey gave me her monkey (luckily not a prized possession like butterfly) to put in my bag while we went to the hair salon, and I lost said monkey as Aubrey walks around the car going “Monkey?  Where are you?” Yep, sorry kid.  Mommy lost your monkey.  (Of course, granted, the parent in me wants to say this is why we don’t take our stuffed animals with us on errands…but still…)

Yesterday Aubrey was sent home from school after throwing up.  She did this like 10 minutes after I dropped her off.  The thing was, she was acting really puny and whiny before I took her, but it was hard to say why because she’s been like that off and on every now and then, and she’s like her Mommy in that she’s no morning person so I partially thought that could be it.  So I took her to school but told the teacher when I dropped her off to let me know how Aubrey does because she’s not acting like herself.  So I kind of had a suspicion I would get a phone call later.  Not 10 minutes into my ride, however.  But I drove away with that guilt of being that parent who takes her kid to daycare even though the kid clearly doesn't feel good because she doesn't want to ask off for work.  I don’t want to be that mom but at that point I kind of had to be that mom.  And I hated that. 

Then I was that mom who didn't realize that her child had thrown up in the middle of the night.  I go in her room to do the customary stripping of the sheets and sanitizing everything she could have touched and I step right in a pile of cold vomit.  Nice.  Instantly I felt absolutely awful because how in the hell could I have missed that?  I didn't even think to case the room when I got her up that morning.  It didn't smell or anything either.  She was in bed when I got in there, and the vomit was behind the door.  And then I think back to Aubrey waking up around 11:30 last night crying and me telling T to just let her put herself back to sleep because she wasn't crying that badly.  She had thrown up and I didn't go help her.  I didn't know, but I should have known.  Mom guilt.  Granted, all that matters is she’s fine, but her mommy didn't come help her when she needed it?  I just left her alone?  Ugh.

Luckily she’s feeling better, but I could use just a little break from the mom guilt.  I know, I know, it doesn't go away…I’ll tell you this much, though – I have some mad respect for all of those mothers who I did not believe when they talked about mom guilt.  I feel your pain.  Props, ladies, mad props.

Potty humor

We are in the middle of potty training Aubrey, and it is never without its dull moments.  Like most milestones with Aubrey (crawling, walking…) things are moving slowly, which really means she knows how to do it but will do it on her own time.  (No idea where she gets this stubborn thing!)  So as you can imagine a lot of topics of discussion at the Nain and T household are around the potty.  I very rarely go to the bathroom, er, I mean potty, now without company.  It is kind of nice, though, because I cannot remember the last time someone cheered for me when I went to the bathroom.  Go, Mommy!

She is also into the poop and farting thing.  In that respect, I suppose she is a lot like her Daddy.  She’ll fart in the bath tub and go “oh, big fart!”  And they don’t smell like roses, let me tell you.

As gross as it is, too, she insists on seeing her poopy pull-ups before I throw them out.  She has to see it.  So disgusting.  But I’ll tip the thing up so she can see her “accomplishment” and she always goes “oh, BIG poop!  I did that!”  Yep.  Good for you, kid.  You took a giant dump!

She’s also somewhat of an old man in her routine.  We will put her down for nap, and never fails – she’ll poop.  She does this at daycare, too, apparently.  So I’ll stall whatever it is I want to do during her “naptime” and wait about 20 minutes only to go back in there.  Sunday, however, she did not fall asleep even after that first change.  I come in her room to discover Axl Rose had destroyed the place, clothes everywhere, and she somehow managed to pull her overnight diapers from the dresser and they were everywhere.  The dresser, mind you.  Four drawer dresser.  I have no clue how that feat was accomplished, but I imagine it took a great deal of determination. 

I come in her room and lean to her level.  “Aubrey, are you poopy again?”  She looks at me ever-so-serious “I do one, two poops!  BIG poops!”  Dead serious face, counting with her fingers.  It is so hard to not just crack up in times like these.  I mean, I do, but still, I don’t want her to think we’re not taking her seriously. 

But hey, she took one…two…BIG poops, guys.  And of course, she did have to admire her work afterwards.  That’s my kid!

We’ll just chalk this up to something that will embarrass the hell out of her when she is older.  

Then there was that time I had mono…

I grow very very tired of the “health scares.”  It kind of comes with the game though when you were born with a heart defect.  It happens.  They seem to happen every two years, too…you know, like the Olympics?  And well, what would you know, Aubrey is two so it’s been two years since I’ve had a heart scare so here we go!

It was unexpected.  I got routine blood work done for a physical.  Cholesterol and what not, so I got the blood work done and thought we’d go over it the next week at my physical.  Instead I get a call Friday (blood work was Thursday), and it’s the doctor’s office asking if I’ve had any muscle aches because apparently my muscle enzyme levels were very elevated.  Um, no, I haven’t.  What does that mean?  Does this have to do with my heart?  “Oh we don’t know but we’ll run some tests that are heart specific and we’ll rule it out.  But don’t work out this weekend.”  SO, yeah, you know how that goes.  WebMD it!  Sure, I know better but the doctor had me alarmed, and all I kept thinking of was my previous cardiologist telling me he was consistently checking to see if my muscle lining in my heart had thickened.  Muscle enzyme.  Heart is a muscle.  Mine works harder than most.  So you see my logic.  And it turns out that high levels of muscle enzyme are indications of a heart attack or serious muscle damage to the heart. 

Shit. 

So of course all weekend I worried.  I worried when I got blood work done Monday and also Tuesday when no call from the doctor’s office.  I finally got a call on Wednesday that said everything was better and maybe it was an error in the lab.  Hmmm, what? 

By this point my muscles were hurting.  I kept thinking it was all in my head after hearing the “news.”  So Wednesday at work, I was getting kind of ticked with myself.  Why am I achy?  Why do I feel like such crap?  I went home to lie down, which was good because I quickly developed a fever, well over 103 degrees.  I had a fever from 100 to 102 for like four or five days straight.  Yep.  Mono.  Blood work confirmed it, even though I kind of knew it.  I had it in college really badly.  We’re talking very badly.  This was more mild and after two weeks it’s pretty much gone and I feel much better.  I guess I wore myself down so much with everything that I got sick.  And when I get sick it’s go big or go home. 

Hey, you know what else the high muscle enzyme levels can indicate?  Mono! 

Huh.  It makes sense now.  Glad I thought it was my heart because that was a lot of fun.  Let’s do this again sometime.

I swear if it’s not something it’s another.  But I am thanking God that I am healthy and my heart is just fine.  I am blessed because most kids who had the same surgery as me had follow-up procedures later in life, and here I am 33 years after my surgery, and I’m doing just fine.  Thank God.

Goodbye Facebook

I got off Facebook.  For the second time, but I am pretty sure this time will be for good at least for quite a while.  Forever?  Quite possibly.

It’s a good tool to keep in touch with friends and family.  I loved getting to see pictures of everyone and see what people are doing in life, friends I have not seen in years.  But the cons kind of outweigh the pros.  Facebook is a drama starter.  It just is.  I have read somewhere that Facebook is a huge contributing factor to marriages ending, friendships ending, what have you.  T has been off of the thing since one month after Aubrey was born and he hasn't looked back.  Granted he would look over my shoulder occasionally to see the stupid crap people put on there, making fun of it.  I’m sure some of it is out of morbid curiosity, which honestly is what makes Facebook so appealing.  Who knows…

We went to a concert the other night and it was kind of pathetic looking around at all of the people who are clearly with someone or a group of people and are glued to their smart phones.  No interaction and you know damn well what they are doing.  Some sort of social medium.  I found it has even become a topic of conversation.  You know when you are talking about Facebook rather than things that really matter, you may have a problem.  That’s partly where I was.

I would say why I got off of it, but I will keep the real reason to myself.  It does kind of suck that I had to resort to that because I do want to stay in touch with people who live long distance from me.  A quick Facebook hello can be much easier than an email, but it is not worth it at the moment.  Things you put on Facebook will quickly get turned around on you, bastardized and then thrown in your face.  Over statements that start out as innocent statements.  A person reads into that, a person reads your Facebook posts and reports them to another individual.  I understand that privacy is a moot concept when it comes to social media, but at the same time, some sort of line should be drawn.  However, rather than deal with that, I’m just taking a step back.  I want to continue blogging, and my Pinterest addiction lives on, of course.  I still have yet to understand what LinkedIn really does exactly, but hey, I will keep it.  I doubt someone would really read into what you post on LinkedIn. Maybe they would, but it would not be as easy.

I know so many people say “oh, I’m not on Facebook (insert I’m better than you) and that’s totally not why I did it.  I just do not like how others around me were using my own Facebook activity.  That and at some point, I just have to take a step back and get some privacy.  What about some of you? I would be curious as to other thoughts on social media because it certainly has changed life as we know it.  

Motherhood. And poop.

Oh, motherhood.  I debated writing this post in the event that I would be turned over to child protective services (just kidding, of course), but a few weeks ago I got a real taste of toddlerhood.  And it….well…it sucked.  But I survived, and now I have a story to tell all of Aubrey’s friends when she’s in high school.  And then she can share it with her therapist.  The circle of life, you see. 

Let’s start off with this – Aubrey has started wearing pull-ups as of a few weeks ago.  She saw all of her friends wearing them, and we are potty training and all so it’s time.  The only problem with these is it’s so easy for her to take them off.  She’s the big girl now, wearing what she calls her “panties,” and she can take them off herself, thank you very much, Mommy.  I don’t mind it so much when it’s just a wet diaper.  The other type….

Anyway, so it was a nice Saturday afternoon, and I put Aubrey down for a nap.  On the weekends, she actually has started sleeping every now and then but during naptime it’s always on the floor.  I normally don’t care so long as she is getting some kind of rest.   She was actually quiet so I didn’t think anything was up.  

Two hours pass or so, and I go in there to check on her.  As I get closer to the door I smell the distinct scent of Desitin.  Funny, I don’t remember putting Desitin on Aubrey before nap.

I open the door and see her lying on the floor, hugging her butterfly.  I tiptoe over there and am greeted with the sight of my daughter’s bare butt, covered in poop, her pull-up half off.  Poop everywhere.  On the carpet, all over her diaper changing box we use, her hairbrush, the carpet, coated all over her hands.  “Aubrey!” was my immediate reaction.  She startled awake and started crying.  And then I noticed the Desitin tube, open and covered with poop.  And white Desitin smeared by her mouth. 

I kicked into high gear, immediately taking her to the bath tub, stripping her down and cleaning every inch of poop off of my kid as she sat there pitifully crying.  I tried my best to calm her down and tell her it’s okay, it’s okay, Mommy’s here, trying to not freak out about her ingesting Desitin.  T was outside mowing so I’m shouting out the window for him to get up there, which he does, and the only thing I can get out is “shit, everywhere!” to him. 

We clean her off, call poison control who told us that this is actually quite common and totally not harmful to her.  Sigh of relief breathed there.  Then we had to tackle the task of cleaning the shit from all over her room.  Oh what’s that?  Her precious butterfly?  Poop and Desitin was on her too, so I had to take her and clean her off and throw her in the dryer.  You would have thought I just shot a puppy right in front of Aubrey.  I have never seen her so traumatized in my life.  Seriously.  It was funny but at the same time I really felt for her.  I didn’t make the thing stay in the dryer the whole time, so I took it out damp and gave it to Aubrey wrapped in a towel who grabbed from me, giving me one of those “bitch, step off” looks.   I didn’t get to touch the thing for the rest of the day. 

We had to shampoo the carpets, wash everything and then throw away the things that were not salvageable.   Poop.  On my carpet.  Ugh. 

So here’s what we think happened.  Aubrey’s an independent kiddo.  She always seems to poop once we put her down for a nap, and we have to go in there and change her before she finally falls asleep.  My guess is that happened.  Little Miss “I have panties and am a big girl,” God love her, decided to change it herself. 

Someone said, “Well, put that diaper box high so she can’t reach it.”  Yeah, we did that.  I have no freaking clue how she managed to get that down.  It now sits in the closet when we put her to bed.  With a child proof door handle.  But she managed to get it down, and I’m guessing she thought “Mommy puts this cream on me, so I’ll do it myself.”  And then was tempted to try said Desitin.  She tried wiping her hands off (carpet, window, etc.)  But here’s the thing – she never cried.  You would think she would have cried for us and not fall asleep surrounded and covered in poop.  I don’t get it.

Motherhood. 

We survived and now have a story we will laugh about someday.  Not yet because I’m still traumatized but someday…and she now has something to share with her therapist as she gets older.  Because you bet your ass Mommy is using this little story as needed.  

Like Mommy

I knew becoming a mother to a little girl that I would be her first female role model.  The thought scared and intimidated me because who am I to mold a human being into becoming an upstanding citizen?  How do I even know to do that?  I don't.
But it's happening, slowly but surely.  It's not that I'm all "Aubrey, do this because Mommy does."  No, it is just the little things.  Aubrey's shoes are colorful and striped like Mommy's.  Mommy doesn't wear socks with hers so Aubrey tells her teachers to take hers off because Mommy doesn't wear socks.  Mommy and Aubrey wear pink.  I pick shorts out for her but she wants jeans pants like Mommy.  Mommy has a pony tail so she does too.  
She mimics the things I do even if it is not something I want her to mimic.  Case in point - I now have a backseat driver in Aubrey.  "GO, lady, go!" yelling at the car in front of us after I do.  (oops)
I have this habit that I have no idea where I started or when but I always sit on the couch with a pillow on my lap.  I just do it.  So now she'll sit right next to me with a pillow on her lap.  It's hilarious.
I sat on one of those tiny chairs they have for toddler tables, coloring with her the other day, and I got up after like 20 minutes, my butt killing me.  "My butt hurts from sitting in that chair, Aubrey."  "My butt hurts, too.  Like Mommy."
Yesterday twice she pulled her stool up to me while I was prepping and cooking dinner.  I explained to her what I was doing, let her touch and smell the food, with her, of course saying "I don't like it."  I have a helper unloading the dishwasher when I do.  She helps me fold the laundry.
I never thought I would serve as the role model for someone.  I never realized the little things matter like that, but they do.  I never thought in a million years someone would look up to me like this.  And I never in a million years thought I would be worth looking up to.  But she's here, and I wouldn't change it for a thing in the world.  It fills my heart so much each time she does it.  I love that little girl with all of my heart, and I don't know...I think she is fond of me, too.
I think I will call her...."Mini-me."

I have a problem

Note:  Before I write anything I want to make one thing very clear.  In my posts where I  have opened up about my marriage, I am talking a great deal about my problems and how I can improve.  I may lightly touch on T and things he will change.  However, please do not take me focusing on MY issues as saying I am the only reason we are going through a rough patch.  I worried about that earlier this morning as I wrote this.  So take this as a universal disclaimer.
I have a problem, you guys.  Well, that's the vague statement of the year, because it could honestly encompass a whole bunch of issues, but I have a specific problem.  It was one of the reasons why T says he fell in love with me and is quickly becoming one of the reasons why we fight.  
I want to fix people's problems.  I'm a problem fixer. I want everyone, especially those I love and truly care about, to be happy in life, and if I can, in any way, help that situation, I will do it.  However, that quickly runs into another part of that problem....
I worry about people's problems.  And that brings me to another issue...
I take on people's problems.  And that brings me to another problem...
I often worry more about everyone else's lives than I do my own.  
So yeah, caring about others and wanting everyone to be happy is good, right?  I mean thinking only about yourself and only worrying about yourself is....well, selfish, right?  So wouldn't it logically be that you should care about other people's problems?  Well, yes.  But not too much.  
I am that kind of family member, friend, coworker who people come to when they need to vent, need a friend, need help.  I like being that way.  I like helping others.  It's why I practice law, after all, to help others.  It's a good thing.  All rainbows, ponies, and shit.  
T thinks so, too.  When we first met, he loved that I cared so deeply about others in my life that I would do anything for them.  If you hurt a friend or family member of mine, you better watch out.  That's gotten me into trouble every now and then as I have stepped into the situation to try to fix it for the person in trouble.  Has it fixed the problem?  Yes, sometimes it has.  I have a way with words, I guess.  I make my point clear.  But then it brings me into the melee.  And I'm what one of my counselors called an emotional sponge.  I don't just listen to a conversation and offer advice.  I soak that shit up  like crazy and then carry it around.  I do that with each person with whom I interact until that sponge gets so heavy and full of water that it just falls on top of me or spills everywhere.  Thus, we have a Nain breakdown.
The issues T and I currently face have been building up for quite some time so it's hard to pinpoint when this specific problem started.  However, what quickly happened was my focus continually shifted into the lives of others and not in my own.  Our dinner conversations were on problems going in others' lives.  We would go on date nights and talk about issues with family members, friends, me worrying about what that person will do, will they be happy, how can I help, etc.  So we'd talk about that and of course Aubrey, and that was our date night conversation.  We would have nothing to talk about but that.  If we did talk about "us," it would be business stuff like home, money, etc.  (Saving that for another post).  So I think you can see where a problem would develop.  
It was one of the concerns T brought to my attention when everything came to a head on Father's Day weekend.  I've heard him say it before, but it wasn't until then, until we both heard the word "separation" come out of my mouth, that I really and truly listened to what he was saying.  He missed us.  He was tired of us always talking about everyone else but us.  He pointed out the times when this happened, and it hit me that, wow, this is a problem.  
It's hard because this is the person I am.  I have been trained for 33 years now to be the fixer, the problem solver, you name it.  It is my role.  So how do I stop it?  Well, I can't just stop it.  It's a part of who I am.  I like being that person in some respects, but how do I get that balance?  What exactly is that right amount?  
And what in the hell are T and I supposed to talk about now?
Seriously, how sad is that?  How sad is it that we have no other conversation than talking about household business, Aubrey and everyone else?  I've been trying.  I've truly been trying.  I had a relapse this last weekend on yet another date night where I focused on the problems of others, and I did not even realize it until T pointed it out to me sadly during dinner.  
I think I could take that even farther to say that I even worry about T to the point where I don't worry about what's going on with me.  Surely that's not bad, right?  He's my husband so shouldn't I put him before myself?
I'm writing about this knowing full well that I do not have this solution to the problem.  It is not going to fixed overnight.  But where do I even start?  And how do I reconcile that stabbing guilt when I do pull away from being in that role to focusing on my own life and the problems that have exploded in it like land mines?  I don't know.  I wish I did.  
I guess the first step to fixing a problem is recognizing it, right?  

Running on empty

I am cursed with something that will always plague me.  Taking on too much.  I take on too freaking much until life really isn’t that fun, and all I do is work on the various tasks I have willfully imposed upon myself.  I did it in high school…it was not enough to just do one activity.  No, I had to work 20 hours a week, do newspaper and orchestra, all of these often falling on the same day. I had to work two jobs during summers in college, giving myself mono one summer from working too hard.  I took on the Mary Kay thing, a musical instrument (again), and writing.  I started with the blog and then bam, started writing for about seven different publications at a time.  And working full time.

Oh and what’s that other thing?  Oh right.  I am also a wife and mother.  I forgot about that.

Or at least it seems that way.  And I know it seems that way to T.  It is one of the things that has come up in our discussions as we work through the weeds of where we currently are in our marriage.  Ever since we have had Aubrey I have not put enough time aside for my relationships.  When I do, it’s Aubrey.  At the end of the day, after I have run myself ragged trying to do all of the things I put on myself, the only ounce of affection and care I can give is to our daughter.  I try to give more.  But I have nothing much to give to T or even to myself. 

We would spend our evenings sitting on opposite ends of the couch, both of us on our computers.  I would be working well until 10 p.m. on a story or two, while T would search the Internet just wasting time until I was done with the computer or ready for bed.  If we did not have the computers out we would be watching TV.  No conversation.  No interaction.  Any interaction we did have would be once the kiddo was in bed and we were eating dinner at 7:30 p.m. 

When we first met, I gave of myself so readily and easily.  True, I had more time because I was not a mom at that point in time.  We were not married and lived in our own separate spaces so we had our own “me” time.  So when we did have our “us” time we could not get enough of each other.  Sitting up and talking until midnight was so easy.  Now T’s lucky if I even stay awake past 9:30 p.m.  By the time we get to the end of the day and sit down, I usually pass out unless I’m sitting behind the computer.

How does that make the other feel?  I never really thought about it.  I always just thought T was being unfair or irrational when he would get irritated that I essentially ignored him all evening.  I thought he was not being supportive, was being too hard on me, not fair.  While, yes, I am sure some of the times he was in the wrong, but I can see the frustration and where it came from.  We don’t interact.  We don’t know how to talk to each other, and when we do, it’s business – work, bills, house, and Aubrey. 

It is a realization I have hit, and I am working like hell to change it and make it better.  Relationships do not just maintain on their own.  You have to nurture them, make them grow.  That cannot happen if we are both so distracted to even see what is going on in the other person’s world. 

Am I finding it harder to find time to get articles out?  Yes.  Have I fallen behind on my emails?  Yes.  But am I spending more time with the one person who means more to me than anything in this world?  Yes.  And that, to me, is so much more worth it.

Living of fear

I have this thing.  I am scared of pissing anyone off.  In fact, I would venture to argue that it is more than just a thing.  It’s an all-out paralyzing fear.  I hate confrontation.  I hate yelling.  I mean, I know everyone is like this unless you are one of this sick and twisted people who like yelling at others.  If that’s the case then kudos to you? 

I think what you would call it is I am a people pleaser.  And a worrier.  That has become a problem.  The problem arises when I have people at all aspects of my life at different angles with different needs, and there I am in the middle trying to please them all. 

I write this as I know I may or may not have a confrontation tomorrow coming up, even though it is all highly possible that it will not be as bad as I think it will.  It could be worse, who knows?  Anyway, that fear is kind of propelling me to write about fear in general and where that lines up to what’s going on in my life right now. 

I have always been a people pleaser.  I walk on eggshells because I have been trained to do so.  As a child, a teenager, an adult, I have been through a series of relationships whether those be familial, friend, significant other, boss, etc., where I am absolutely petrified of letting that person down, losing that person or causing them to be upset or disappointed in me.  It is inherently unhealthy.  You do not go through a series of counselors with each one telling me the same exact thing and not come to that conclusion.  However, it is a problem when you do not listen to the advice.  And it just keeps going and going like that damn Energizer bunny.

Where does this play in?  It comes in with my relationship with T and my family.  That, which is to be a subject of a later post, is causing a great deal of the tension, and like Pavlov’s dog, I am conditioned to react in a certain manner, my loyalties going to my family.  But that cannot always be the case.  In most circumstances my loyalties should probably lie elsewhere.  And that is causing a huge issue, if not one that is threatening to break us. 

It is frustrating.  So I am venting.  This problem is one of the many T and I are tackling, because like tonight, it seems to rear its ugly head all the freaking time.  Says the girl who is sitting here freaking out about what lies ahead tomorrow. 

It’s amazing what fear can do to you, isn’t it?  Too bad I am not one of those people who can just say “oh well” or “to hell with it.” 

Ah, to hell with it.

Team T&A

Recently, I've come back to my blog because, like an estranged friend, I have missed it.  Having time to actually blog has been difficult, but that’s not really why I have not really been great at blogging these past few months.  See, I pride myself on being open and honest when I write.  Certain subjects have always remained off limits to me, but the thing is, they are huge parts of who I am and my life.  It is hard to come up with writing material when the main parts of your life are falling apart all around you.  I’m not one to be fake, so bringing myself to write up some “see what an awesome mom/wife I’m being” posts just wasn’t in me.  

Don’t get me wrong – I have a ton to brag on when it comes to T and Aubrey.  However, when something is wrong and it’s really taking a great deal of my attention, emotional energy, you name it; it’s hard to just push that aside and play happy.

Before I go further – no, I am not dying.  T is healthy, Aubrey is healthy.  We both still have our jobs.  We have our house.

However, all is not right in Whoville.  Rather, Nain-T-ville.  We have been going through some….stuff.  It’s hard for me to even write that out because I don’t want to admit we are anything other than the perfect couple with the perfect family, but like pretty much everyone else out there, we are not.  I have held back on that on this blog ever since it has been building up, but as T and I work through things, I have asked him if I can open up and be honest on this blog.  He has said yes, and anything I say on here is nothing that he does not know or approve of me saying.

Things have been building up, like I said.  Building up since we had Aubrey.  As we went through those six months of sleep deprivation, other problems just kept brewing under the surface.  Neither of us wanted to really address them, and all that resulted in that was a lot of fighting. We have argued more than I want to admit because, like I said, I want everyone to see us as this super couple.  However, the arguments never really led to anything other than hurt feelings and resentment but one or both of us just apologizing to finish the argument or just pretending it didn’t happen.  It wasn’t until a couple months ago that in a few of our more contentious arguments that things came to the surface.  And the shit hit the fan so to speak.  And a word I never ever would throw out was thrown out.  By me.

No, not the “d” word.  But not much better.  Separation.

Neither of us would actually do it, but it scared both of us enough that we realized something had to change.  The change is not easy.  It is not pleasant, and it’s taking a lot of me admitting that maybe, just maybe, I need to listen and really hear T more to get to that change.  I’m not always right, though I like to be. We’re both at fault, but the fault thing really doesn’t matter.  All that matters is where we go from there. 

I’m on Team T&A (Yes, our initials are inappropriate, I know), and so is T.  We said forever, and we meant it. I love him more than anything in this world, and I’m not willing to ever give up on us.  Ever.  We have both been making some changes, have discussions that last three hours plus with both of us tearing up at least once or twice.  But it’s necessary. 

Hence me opening up on here.  See, the reason I never brought up family life before is because I’m not that person who is going to husband bash.  I’m not going to use this blog as some kind of platform so you all walk away hating T.   I am opening up because it’s who we are, it’s what’s going on with us, it’s the whole reason why I started this blog to begin with.  I am exactly the person that I put out there in this blog.  That’s me – good, bad and ugly.  This is my life, and this is something huge happening with us right now.  And, like I said, nothing I would say here would not have already been said to T, not said without his okay, and well….it’s not me just saying how much my life and my husband suck. 

So you may not read posts that are all rainbows and ponies.  But, as I put it to someone the other day, “Shit is about to get real.” 

Or is it “It’s time for when people stop being polite and start getting real…the real world.  Nain and T edition.”

I had to put that in there.  

Everything is awesome

We had T's family down a few weeks ago, and Aubrey's cousin who is just a few months younger than her was down.  It was a blast and the girls were hilarious.  I will not say much other than...these girls can really break it down!

• 
  
• 

Five years

Five years ago today, this happened....

Tim popped the big question on an unusually chilly and rainy 4th of July.  It literally poured all day, but neither of us cared.  He took me to the Monument downtown and asked me if I could be his other half forever.  It took me maybe one instant to say yes.  And I still firmly say that it was the easiest answer to the biggest question ever.  Five years has passed since that beautiful day.  Today we will be heading back downtown as we have down every year since (minus last year) and will take Aubrey to this special place.  Sure, she has no idea what "engaged" means, and sure, if we continue this tradition, it might become annoying to her as she gets older but...it does not matter.  If Mommy had never said yes, she would not be here.  Five years has brought us to where we are now.  
It does not feel like it has been five years.  Yet so much has happened since then.  We've gotten married, built a house and started a family. We have created an extremely blessed and wonderful life.  All from that simple yet so important question.  
I love you, T!  I would say yes again - over and over and over again!

Fearless

Along with the spirited child front, my child has one characteristic I want her to keep throughout her life because I have struggled with this myself.  She's fearless.  Bravery.  Seriously, the kid has no fear.  I have yet to find something that scares her.  Thunderstorm?  No.  Lawn mower?  No, she runs toward it.  Same with the vacuum.  We were in Michigan with my family last year, and as we walked along the pier in South Haven, the kid was leaning over trying to reach the water.  Climbing rocks, wanting to explore.  She has no fear.  I love that, but at the same time, fear that, about her.  
We went swimming with friends the other day, and Aubrey could not have been more excited.  We've been in a pool maybe one other time with her so I'm not sure why the word pool got her so excited, but she was.  We got her in the water, with her water floaties, of course, and she was giggling like crazy. Then it started.  She saw the big kids swimming so Aubrey wanted to swim.  She got frustrated because she wanted us to let her go on her own.  I tried to show her what would happen, but that didn't deter her.  "I need to swim, I need to swim!" she kept saying.  (Side note:  Her new thing is to say she 'needs' something instead of 'wants.')  She then saw kids jumping off the side into the pool so she climbs out of the pool and tries to do that herself, with her Mommy scrambling out of the pool with her.  We did a modified "jump" with me holding her up to Daddy in the water.  It seemed to fool her for the time being, but I'm afraid that will only last so long.  She wants to do it on her own.  She thinks she is as big as those other kids jumping and swimming.  That's my kid.
It scares me because of obvious reasons, of course.  I'm already paranoid with my kid around water but now I have more reason to be eagle eyes with her.  It's hard to keep up with her, and as she gets older and more independent, I know that will only get worse.  She's fearless.  To a fault.
I want to strike that fine balance between encouraging her to be fearless but also reigning in her over-braveness.  I love the fighter in her, the daredevil and the strong girl she is.  I just want to make sure she does not think she's bigger than she is.
Did I mention my kid is spirited?  Oh I didn't?  
God help me when she's a teenager....

Spirited Child

I'm frustrated.  I know people say that "oh you think the terrible twos are bad?  Just wait until the terrible threes!" And I know this too shall pass and it gets better...blah, blah, but seriously, I'm irritated.  And tired.
Our doctor, Aubrey's teachers, and pretty much everyone has said that Aubrey is a spirited child.  It's basically another word for stubborn.  I've even started reading books on it.  Aubrey finds something and darn it, that's what she wants and she will bring all holy hell until she gets it.  And when she doesn't get it - which is often because we don't give into her - thus begins the fit.  And when Aubrey throws a fit, she throws a fit.  It's impressive the dedication she puts into her fits when she starts them.  And the volume.  Yeah, it's not pretty and it's enough for us to not want to do anything at all, go anywhere, leave the house, you name it.
We took her to the downtown canal on Saturday morning thinking we'd have a nice family walk, see some ducks, have a little fun for a couple hours.  Yeah, that lasted like 30 minutes when she decided she wanted to go up the stairs to the street.  That ended up with her being in the stroller and screaming.  So we went home.  So much for that....
It's frustrating.  And I'm jealous.  I have friends who have kids my age, and I see pictures and stories on Facebook of all the fun things they do and see.  Why can't we do that too?  Oh right, our child will do okay for like a minute before she finds something that will start World War III.  It makes the whole point of the outing not even worth it.  I'm starting to get a little resentful, and I hate admitting that.  Why is their child okay going out in public and ours not?  I know the answer.  Our child is anything but the laid-back and chill kid.  She does not just go with the flow.   We get looks from people when Aubrey does meltdown like we have some kind of brat, but we don't.  It's not that.  No way do we spoil our kid, and she is accountable for her behavior.  She's just  very strong-willed and well....stubborn. Or wait, no, it's she's "spirited."  That sounds better.
Whatever it is, I'm having one of those days where it just sucks.  I'd love to go to the zoo or the pool or park...I mean, we try it and hope like hell that it goes well, but 9 times out of 10, we end up with a screaming Aubrey and a frustrated Nain and T.  
Just needing to get that out, and yeah...it's my blog, so I can, right?  But no, I'm not looking for tips or anything.  Maybe a baby-sitter or two.