Tuesday, September 05, 2006
9/05
I'm back! Although I never really left. Can you hear Madonna starting to swell in the background as I type?
"Don't cry for me Argentina! (Texas) The truth is I never left you. All through my wild days, my mad existence, I made a promise...don't (please) keep your distance"
I spent the weekend watching movies - alternating between four hour naps on my couch and waking up every fifteen minutes throughout the night with Zac, who just wanted confirmation that I was still there. I think I heard him murmur, "While you are up, do you think that you could just rub my back a little? Ahhh...that's nice, thanks Mam...*snore*" He had large quantities of fluid leaking out of his right ear and my Mom was worried that Zac would go deaf while I was walking around assuring everyone that leaky ears were normal for a sick baby/toddler. Her reply was something along the lines of, "EARS SHOULDN'T LEAK!"
Hmmm...maybe she had me there. Self-doubt creeped in, followed by the words, "This could be why Zac isn't talking yet. He could have hearing loss." There is no rational argument to that.
I drove down Saturday morning to the pediatrician by my parents' house and left Z. in the care of a sweaty Grandma and Grandpa, who took him to the doctor after their morning run. I was lucky enough to drive up to the Saturn dealership and spent the next fatigue-laced three hours finishing up, "The Time Traveler's Wife," which everyone should read, and the latest issue of People, which no one should read - ever, unless you've lived abroad and can fully appreciate how asinine the whole thing is.
Zac got better news than my car. The fluid meant that his ear tube was working correctly by stopping the fluid from collecting behind his ear drum and causing an infection. They gave him ear drops, just to make sure that the ol' tube kept up its good work and sent Z. home for a three hour nap. I found out that extended warranty shops take the ENTIRE weekend off for Labor Day. I spent my entire, weary, cranky morning waiting for that little nugget of information. I couldn't get my car fixed, even if I wanted to.
Personally, I've been struggling with some issues for a couple of weeks now. After two months of not getting my period, my beloved pill, is causing me to have some spotting. This normally wouldn't be a big deal, but the hormonal changes that occur while that is happening have caused some problems. I hate to chalk everything up to hormones because all of my underlying issues are still there, they are just exacerbated by the chemical changes. My face has been breaking out, horribly. I've been overeating because -ha!- if, "I'm ugly and miserable, why not be fat too?" I've gained back some of the weight I lost earlier in the spring and summer. Zac's constant need to explore everything, including all objects strategically placed on the tops of tables, has been getting under my skin. He's pushing more buttons than I knew I even had. Last night, he was tired, cranky, and started crying everytime I said the word, "No," which I said approximately thirteen hundred times. I started crying. Then I ate some more pizza and felt sick to my stomach.
"Don't cry for me Argentina! (Texas) The truth is I never left you. All through my wild days, my mad existence, I made a promise...don't (please) keep your distance"
I spent the weekend watching movies - alternating between four hour naps on my couch and waking up every fifteen minutes throughout the night with Zac, who just wanted confirmation that I was still there. I think I heard him murmur, "While you are up, do you think that you could just rub my back a little? Ahhh...that's nice, thanks Mam...*snore*" He had large quantities of fluid leaking out of his right ear and my Mom was worried that Zac would go deaf while I was walking around assuring everyone that leaky ears were normal for a sick baby/toddler. Her reply was something along the lines of, "EARS SHOULDN'T LEAK!"
Hmmm...maybe she had me there. Self-doubt creeped in, followed by the words, "This could be why Zac isn't talking yet. He could have hearing loss." There is no rational argument to that.
I drove down Saturday morning to the pediatrician by my parents' house and left Z. in the care of a sweaty Grandma and Grandpa, who took him to the doctor after their morning run. I was lucky enough to drive up to the Saturn dealership and spent the next fatigue-laced three hours finishing up, "The Time Traveler's Wife," which everyone should read, and the latest issue of People, which no one should read - ever, unless you've lived abroad and can fully appreciate how asinine the whole thing is.
Zac got better news than my car. The fluid meant that his ear tube was working correctly by stopping the fluid from collecting behind his ear drum and causing an infection. They gave him ear drops, just to make sure that the ol' tube kept up its good work and sent Z. home for a three hour nap. I found out that extended warranty shops take the ENTIRE weekend off for Labor Day. I spent my entire, weary, cranky morning waiting for that little nugget of information. I couldn't get my car fixed, even if I wanted to.
Personally, I've been struggling with some issues for a couple of weeks now. After two months of not getting my period, my beloved pill, is causing me to have some spotting. This normally wouldn't be a big deal, but the hormonal changes that occur while that is happening have caused some problems. I hate to chalk everything up to hormones because all of my underlying issues are still there, they are just exacerbated by the chemical changes. My face has been breaking out, horribly. I've been overeating because -ha!- if, "I'm ugly and miserable, why not be fat too?" I've gained back some of the weight I lost earlier in the spring and summer. Zac's constant need to explore everything, including all objects strategically placed on the tops of tables, has been getting under my skin. He's pushing more buttons than I knew I even had. Last night, he was tired, cranky, and started crying everytime I said the word, "No," which I said approximately thirteen hundred times. I started crying. Then I ate some more pizza and felt sick to my stomach.
Friday, September 01, 2006
9/01
Well, it doesn't look like I'll be going anywhere this weekend, although I dreamt of being in New York last night with MNS. Lack of planning, money, and energy are really hampering my dreams of getting out of Texas. It seems that most of my friends already have plans and people that I would like to go and see, live just a little bit too far for me to drive while blowing my nose on scrap pieces of paper I find lying underneith the passenger seat.
For the past two nights, Zac has lost his privilege to be awake. He just comes home from daycare fussy, whiny, and miserable. Then he likes to make me miserable because he is. His new favorite trick is laying down on the ground and putting his head down, crying. He does this until he realizes that I'm not paying attention to him and he'll crawl over to where I'm standing, and lay down at my feet, crying. This goes on approximately three-four times before I pick him and say cheerily (in the "I'm losing my mind" tone of voice), "Well, I guess it's time for little babies to take a bath!!!" Then I fill up the tub and dump as many water-resistant toys in there that I can and watch Zac throw them out of the tumb. Then he stands up and demands (by pointing and grunting, "Eh...eh, eh") that I retrieve the castigated toy from the bathroom floor. He gets one shot at this game. The second time the little plastic men go flying, they are pushed under the floor mat and declared "all gone".
After bath time, I try to wrestle him into pajamas as fast as possible, which only serves to make him as bad as his toddler body can handle before he spontaneously bursts into flames. Then I hug him, take his still quaking body and quivering lower lip to bed. He cries for about ten seconds before he realizes, "Oh thank God. I'm in bed. I can go to sleep".
All of this happens before 7:30pm, at least for the past two nights. Hey - if he needs more sleep, I'm not going to be the one to keep him from getting it. I can get used to drinking an afternoon cocktail and rescuing plastic men during happy hour if he can.
For the past two nights, Zac has lost his privilege to be awake. He just comes home from daycare fussy, whiny, and miserable. Then he likes to make me miserable because he is. His new favorite trick is laying down on the ground and putting his head down, crying. He does this until he realizes that I'm not paying attention to him and he'll crawl over to where I'm standing, and lay down at my feet, crying. This goes on approximately three-four times before I pick him and say cheerily (in the "I'm losing my mind" tone of voice), "Well, I guess it's time for little babies to take a bath!!!" Then I fill up the tub and dump as many water-resistant toys in there that I can and watch Zac throw them out of the tumb. Then he stands up and demands (by pointing and grunting, "Eh...eh, eh") that I retrieve the castigated toy from the bathroom floor. He gets one shot at this game. The second time the little plastic men go flying, they are pushed under the floor mat and declared "all gone".
After bath time, I try to wrestle him into pajamas as fast as possible, which only serves to make him as bad as his toddler body can handle before he spontaneously bursts into flames. Then I hug him, take his still quaking body and quivering lower lip to bed. He cries for about ten seconds before he realizes, "Oh thank God. I'm in bed. I can go to sleep".
All of this happens before 7:30pm, at least for the past two nights. Hey - if he needs more sleep, I'm not going to be the one to keep him from getting it. I can get used to drinking an afternoon cocktail and rescuing plastic men during happy hour if he can.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
8/31
I was just looking through my past posts and realized that the last time I was sick was July 21st. I'm pretty sure Zac was sick as well. That means instead of getting my period once a month, I get a head cold. If I had to choose between blood coming out my genitals or my entire sinus cavities filling up with mucus, I would choose the blood. At least then I feel justified in being bitchy to complete strangers. When I'm sick, I can't even muster up enough energy to complain about the lack of hot water in my apartment this morning.
Even though my little booger got me sick on Monday, I feel sorry for him when he starts sneezing long, green snot trails. If this morning's sneezes were any indication, we are in for a long weekend of napping and snot sucking. At least I know what is happening to me when I'm sick. Zac always looks so startled after he sneezes, like he's saying: "What the hell was that? What is the stuff running down my nose? Does it taste good? Let's see. Ohhhhh....not so good. I wonder if I could rub it all over my face and into my hair. I'll try it and let you know."
This must be the true meaning of parenthood - complete, selfless abandon. You care more about the one that got you sick more than you care about drinking tea and trying to sweat out a fever. Although some tea would be nice right about now. Maybe I'll go and get myself a cup.
Even though my little booger got me sick on Monday, I feel sorry for him when he starts sneezing long, green snot trails. If this morning's sneezes were any indication, we are in for a long weekend of napping and snot sucking. At least I know what is happening to me when I'm sick. Zac always looks so startled after he sneezes, like he's saying: "What the hell was that? What is the stuff running down my nose? Does it taste good? Let's see. Ohhhhh....not so good. I wonder if I could rub it all over my face and into my hair. I'll try it and let you know."
This must be the true meaning of parenthood - complete, selfless abandon. You care more about the one that got you sick more than you care about drinking tea and trying to sweat out a fever. Although some tea would be nice right about now. Maybe I'll go and get myself a cup.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
8/30
"As long as there's stars over Teeeeeeeeexas, then I'll hang, the mo-oon for you"
Dear Texas,
I'm tired of you always hanging the moon for me. Every damn night, all I see is the moon in Texas. I want more! Vermont, California, and even Missouri have started flirting me, giving me the attention that I don't get at home. They tell me that I'll like the way they hang the moon better.
You've made me hate 90+ degree weather in late August. I mean, really, can you please just acquiesce to the fact that fall has descended all across America? You can't hold out forever you know. I promise. Eventually, I will wear sweaters and wool socks and love cuddling under a blanket. Right now all I want to cuddle with is a bucket of ice water and copious amounts of Shiner Bock beer.
I need more space. Barring a very fast, emotionally challenging trip to Pennsylvania in early July, I haven't left your borders since New Year's. I haven't even left the greater Houston area!!From Huntsville down to Galveston, I know every nook and cranny of the north-south interstate. I can also drive in circles, on beltways and loops, never leaving the city (!) as the brilliant planners of this fine city decreed. Everything is circular, and brings me right back to where I started.
It's not that I want to permanently leave you. I just want to explore some different parts of my soul. New York keeps calling me, leaving me voicemails, telling me that I need to get my f'ing ass out there or it's going to beat up the brother I don't have. New Hampshire is feeling neglected because I always idolize Vermont, but really, it knows that it has a piece of my heart. Colorado has been asking me to visit for the past three years, but have I made time? No. You know why? Well, I blame you.
You've cowed me into believing that I shouldn't mess with you for long enough. First chance I get, I'm outta here.
Sincerely,
Not-so-Pregnant-in-I-wish-anywhere-but-here
Dear Texas,
I'm tired of you always hanging the moon for me. Every damn night, all I see is the moon in Texas. I want more! Vermont, California, and even Missouri have started flirting me, giving me the attention that I don't get at home. They tell me that I'll like the way they hang the moon better.
You've made me hate 90+ degree weather in late August. I mean, really, can you please just acquiesce to the fact that fall has descended all across America? You can't hold out forever you know. I promise. Eventually, I will wear sweaters and wool socks and love cuddling under a blanket. Right now all I want to cuddle with is a bucket of ice water and copious amounts of Shiner Bock beer.
I need more space. Barring a very fast, emotionally challenging trip to Pennsylvania in early July, I haven't left your borders since New Year's. I haven't even left the greater Houston area!!From Huntsville down to Galveston, I know every nook and cranny of the north-south interstate. I can also drive in circles, on beltways and loops, never leaving the city (!) as the brilliant planners of this fine city decreed. Everything is circular, and brings me right back to where I started.
It's not that I want to permanently leave you. I just want to explore some different parts of my soul. New York keeps calling me, leaving me voicemails, telling me that I need to get my f'ing ass out there or it's going to beat up the brother I don't have. New Hampshire is feeling neglected because I always idolize Vermont, but really, it knows that it has a piece of my heart. Colorado has been asking me to visit for the past three years, but have I made time? No. You know why? Well, I blame you.
You've cowed me into believing that I shouldn't mess with you for long enough. First chance I get, I'm outta here.
Sincerely,
Not-so-Pregnant-in-I-wish-anywhere-but-here
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
8/29
Good Lord, August is a long month! Who gave this month permission to go on foooorrrevvvver? I updated my budget this morning and gave serious thought to closing that bitch out before the end of the month, just so I wouldn't have to post the ruins of a well-intentioned budget. It's bad enough that there are five FULL weeks in this month (so I had to pay five weeks of daycare cost, which automatically put me over budget) but there are hidden expenses lying in my budget, like the $100 car warranty deductible. True, I luv my car warranty because is saved me $1300 on my last repair, but seriously, you know your budget is tight when you start complaining about co-pays - be it for health insurance, car insurance, or prescription medications.
I spent yesterday at home with Zac, trying not to lose my mind at his unbelievably high temperature that mocked in the face of infant Tylenol. He puked in his crib twice and apparently rolled in it. When I went and rescued him in the morning, his hair smelled so strongly of vomit that I had to bathe him early in the afternoon, just so we could continue snuggling in peace (by snuggling I mean, lying on my chest, drying heaving with me watching the Today show and trying to fall asleep).
After waking up from a four hour nap on the couch with me, I decided to trundle Zac into the city to pick up some files from work so I could "work from home". Turns out that my time would have been better spent going to Blockbuster and picking out new movies to rent than going to my office and displaying my incredibly sick child. I learned that I cannot, under normal circumstances, "work from home". That phrase is a euphemism for "a three hour coma while the baby is taking his afternoon nap". Anytime that I'm around a horizontal surface, I can guarantee you that I'm asleep in under fifteen minutes.
I don't want to hear the "but you're a single Mom" excuse because this is getting ridiculous. I know plenty of single Moms that get enough sleep. Besides, it's not like I'm up doing things and that's why I'm not sleeping. No, really, one minute I'm awake watching CSI reruns, and the next minute, I'm snoring and drooling. Dishes be damned!! One of my friends told me yesterday that I should start a chapter of SA - Sleepers Anonymous. Then we realized that no one would come to the meetings because other SA addicts would be too busy hitting the snooze alarm for the eighth time to actually attend anything.
So, barring any further illnesses or narcoleptic seizures that knock me out for hours at a time, I'll be answering your e-mails shortly. Please, keep them coming, and I might just tell you what happened with Deep Sea Diver J. and why I'm smiling today (although trying not to pass out on my keyboard).
I spent yesterday at home with Zac, trying not to lose my mind at his unbelievably high temperature that mocked in the face of infant Tylenol. He puked in his crib twice and apparently rolled in it. When I went and rescued him in the morning, his hair smelled so strongly of vomit that I had to bathe him early in the afternoon, just so we could continue snuggling in peace (by snuggling I mean, lying on my chest, drying heaving with me watching the Today show and trying to fall asleep).
After waking up from a four hour nap on the couch with me, I decided to trundle Zac into the city to pick up some files from work so I could "work from home". Turns out that my time would have been better spent going to Blockbuster and picking out new movies to rent than going to my office and displaying my incredibly sick child. I learned that I cannot, under normal circumstances, "work from home". That phrase is a euphemism for "a three hour coma while the baby is taking his afternoon nap". Anytime that I'm around a horizontal surface, I can guarantee you that I'm asleep in under fifteen minutes.
I don't want to hear the "but you're a single Mom" excuse because this is getting ridiculous. I know plenty of single Moms that get enough sleep. Besides, it's not like I'm up doing things and that's why I'm not sleeping. No, really, one minute I'm awake watching CSI reruns, and the next minute, I'm snoring and drooling. Dishes be damned!! One of my friends told me yesterday that I should start a chapter of SA - Sleepers Anonymous. Then we realized that no one would come to the meetings because other SA addicts would be too busy hitting the snooze alarm for the eighth time to actually attend anything.
So, barring any further illnesses or narcoleptic seizures that knock me out for hours at a time, I'll be answering your e-mails shortly. Please, keep them coming, and I might just tell you what happened with Deep Sea Diver J. and why I'm smiling today (although trying not to pass out on my keyboard).
Monday, August 28, 2006
8/28
Thank you for the comments on the last post and for everyone that took the time to e-mail me. I really appreciate it. It was inspirational to me to learn about all the single Moms, soon-to-be empty nesters, and never been pregnant women that read my blog. If I didn't read strangers' blogs myself, I would say something along the lines of, "I can't believe you read the crap that I write," but then I remember that I would be lost without my daily reads.
In honor of all of the love that I got over the weekend, I thought that I would share some.
Before I had Zac, I read every parenting book that I could get my hands on. The overriding themes of these books seem to say, "Don't worry about the dishes, the laundry, or showering, just enjoy the special moments with you and your new baby!!" This theory might actually work if you have someone (or a whole team of someones) to do the dishes and laundry for you and to watch your baby while you shower. It also might work if you can stop freaking out long enough to recognize that your baby loves you unconditionally and that you are exactly what your baby wants and needs. Oh, and you're also supposed to fall instantly, madly in love with the creature that lived inside your uterus for nine months.
For me, it didn't work like that. I was so afraid that I didn't know what I was doing that I was numb to Zac's beauty and the love I felt for him. I couldn't appreciate his perfect fingers and little nose, his blond hair and the snoring sounds he made when he fell asleep while nursing. I was little more than ambivalent to him, especially after three months of waking up every hour-and-a-half to nurse him. I would get scared when I thought he needed me. Certainly I couldn't be the mother, the woman, the caretaker he needed, I thought. It was easier to let someone else pick him up and comfort him, even though I was wracked with guilt. I felt like I knew what motherhood was supposed to feel like. I should be enamored with him! I should never want to leave him!!!
Then he and I moved into our own apartment and there was no one else there.
It was just us.
and I fell in love with him.
I love the way he stands up in his crib, shaking the bars, crying, holding his arms out for me to come and pick him up. I love the way he dances, rocking back and forth, while his toy turtle plays little snipets of songs. He laughs and wants to be around me - all the time. I still struggle to enjoy those moments, especially when I would rather e-mail in peace, yet there is a sense of calmness about it.
I can now imagine loving him for the rest of my life. Watching him grow into the man that I see inside him. I can imagine going to parent-teacher nights and being with him the first time he rides a bike all by himself. I can imagine high school homecoming games and waiting up for him to come home from a school dance. The panicky feelings are still there, but they are more subdued, more tempered by the fact that I can see my future intertwined with his.
One day, hopefully after I'm dead, when Zac reads this blog, I hope that he can see that this is the period where I let go of my fear and opened my heart to him completely.
I love you, Peanut.
In honor of all of the love that I got over the weekend, I thought that I would share some.
Before I had Zac, I read every parenting book that I could get my hands on. The overriding themes of these books seem to say, "Don't worry about the dishes, the laundry, or showering, just enjoy the special moments with you and your new baby!!" This theory might actually work if you have someone (or a whole team of someones) to do the dishes and laundry for you and to watch your baby while you shower. It also might work if you can stop freaking out long enough to recognize that your baby loves you unconditionally and that you are exactly what your baby wants and needs. Oh, and you're also supposed to fall instantly, madly in love with the creature that lived inside your uterus for nine months.
For me, it didn't work like that. I was so afraid that I didn't know what I was doing that I was numb to Zac's beauty and the love I felt for him. I couldn't appreciate his perfect fingers and little nose, his blond hair and the snoring sounds he made when he fell asleep while nursing. I was little more than ambivalent to him, especially after three months of waking up every hour-and-a-half to nurse him. I would get scared when I thought he needed me. Certainly I couldn't be the mother, the woman, the caretaker he needed, I thought. It was easier to let someone else pick him up and comfort him, even though I was wracked with guilt. I felt like I knew what motherhood was supposed to feel like. I should be enamored with him! I should never want to leave him!!!
Then he and I moved into our own apartment and there was no one else there.
It was just us.
and I fell in love with him.
I love the way he stands up in his crib, shaking the bars, crying, holding his arms out for me to come and pick him up. I love the way he dances, rocking back and forth, while his toy turtle plays little snipets of songs. He laughs and wants to be around me - all the time. I still struggle to enjoy those moments, especially when I would rather e-mail in peace, yet there is a sense of calmness about it.
I can now imagine loving him for the rest of my life. Watching him grow into the man that I see inside him. I can imagine going to parent-teacher nights and being with him the first time he rides a bike all by himself. I can imagine high school homecoming games and waiting up for him to come home from a school dance. The panicky feelings are still there, but they are more subdued, more tempered by the fact that I can see my future intertwined with his.
One day, hopefully after I'm dead, when Zac reads this blog, I hope that he can see that this is the period where I let go of my fear and opened my heart to him completely.
I love you, Peanut.
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