Monday, October 13, 2014

One (And Some Months)

You guys, we have a one year old.  I am not sure when it happened.  I blinked and BAM!  One.  Months ago, you know, when I had a baby, I took pictures like crazy.  Addison smiling, Addison laughing, Addison making a cute face as she tried avocado for the first time.  These days, I am lucky if I can get her to sit still long enough to put her shoes on, nevermind posing for a picture. 

My daughter is Miss Independent, always wanting to go outside and explore.  She is not talking yet, but man can she get her point across.  She brings me her shoes and sticks out her feet.  She grabs her sunhat and pulls in on her head.  And then she reaches up with a "ehhhh ehhhh" and as I pick her up she points to the door.  As I put on my own shoes she waves bye-bye to her toys.  This kid.

As each day passes, she loses a bit more baby, and grows ever more toddler-like.  She is curious, constantly exploring and seeing how things work, but with cautious wisdom beyond her year.  She is shy and slow to warm up to people, but once she does you are a forever friend who gets kisses and belly laughs.  She loves to put on mommy's jewelry and headbands and to dance around, but in the next breath insist on playing in the dirt.  She could play for hours in the sink, but will only tolerate the bathtub just long enough to get clean.  She loves animals- the neighbors dog, a stray cat, the monkeys at the zoo, or even just looking at pictures of them on the computer.  She is a mommy's girl with her daddy's laid back personality.   

I am overwhelmed with her perfection.  Yes, she gets crabby from time to time.  She has started biting and head butting when she doesn't have your full attention.  And if you try to put her down when she just wants to be carried, get ready for full blown water works.  But, with one smile, one kiss, one hug all that is forgotten.  My heart overflows with my love for her.  And a tiny part of me is sad that my sweet little baby has been replaced by this bundle of energy toddler, I am excited and looking forward to seeing her grow.  I can't wait to see what the next year brings. 



Monday, March 31, 2014

Things I Didn't Know

You guys, I don't even know where the time went.  I can't believe my last blog was over six months ago!  But... I have a good excuse.  This parenting gig is apparently full time.  Like all day, everyday, around the clock, no joke full time.  Who knew?

The last ten months have gone by in the blink of an eye.  It's like this: once I finally got a handle on being a mom- or maybe just before that- I was back to work.  When I went back to work in August, Addison was just under three months old.  She still was a mystery to Brian and me in so many ways.  Trying to figure out her needs, plus balance work life that was extremely hectic and my marriage damn near killed me.  In November I made the decision to step down to a lesser role and something closer to home.  Things got easier then.  And, as time passes, Brian and I are getting the hang of this parenting thing.  Being a mom is the funnest, hardest, and most rewarding job I have ever done, and  I am so so grateful!  I am learning everyday.  And I know as she grows, so will my knowledge of who she is and what I need to do as her mom.  So, I am compiling a list of things I didn't know (or maybe realize) before having a baby.  I'd like to add to it as time goes on... but I am going to leave that in a noncommittal tone becuase, let's be honest, I suck at updating this thing.

Things I didn't know before becoming a mom in no particular order:

1.  Your child does not understand or appreciate the Friends reference "Joey doesn't share food!"  They want what you are eating.  Now.

2.  Your child may sleep through the night and that is awesome.  However, in their eyes, 5am is still a perfectly acceptable time to be up for the day.

3.  You may think you are the most amazing parent ever because your child sleeps through the night and has since they were three weeks old.  Don't worry, teething, sleep regression, and object permanence will squash those self applauding thoughts.

4.  You may judge those moms who nurse during the night until your perfect, used-to-sleep-through-the-night, bundle of joy starts waking multiple times and you now nurse her back to sleep because that is what works and you just want to get back to bed yourself.  You will also curse yourself for judging those poor sleep deprived mommas and vow to never do it again.    

5.  Your standards for a clean house will hit an all time low.  And then they will drop again.

6.  The amount of time you spend getting ready for the day will make a Daytona 500 pit stop look hours long.  Also, showers are now optional.  Invest in dry shampoo.

7.  No one takes care of your baby the right way.  Not even your own mother.

8.  You invent a new language.  Diapers = diapy.  Bath tub = tubby.  Yogurt drops = yogis.  You get the idea.

9.  Babies have no interest in actual baby toys.  But, they are happy to play with eletrical cords, dog hair, and anything that poses a choking hazard.

10.  Nothing will bring you more joy that seeing your child smile/laugh.  Seriously, you guys, it's the best.

11.  Some women lose the baby weight right away and it's ok to hate those women.

12.  Baby farts are hilarious.

13.  8pm is a perfectly acceptable bedtime for mom and dad.

Monday, July 22, 2013

The After (Birth)

I started this post a month and a half ago.  Each time I'd try to write it I would choke up and not get through my thoughts.  Here I am two months later hoping that THIS time I can make it through.  I have so many posts I want to write about life as a mom, Addison's development, and how Brian and I are coping with our new roles, but for some reason I cannot bring myself to write them until I get THIS post done.  The three days following the arrival of our daughter were both wonderful and tramatic.  Allow me to get all cliche as I tell you that no matter how much you read, or how many people you talk to, you can never be fully prepared.

Let me preface this by telling you I have a tendancy to overreact.  I am a bit on the dramatic side at times, so even though the events following Addison's birth were not life threatening, to me it was the end of the world.  I blame the hormones.  Hormones be bitches.

I gave birth at 10:22pm.  Seeing as this is the first grandchild on both sides of the family, Addison is kind of a big deal.  Both my parents and B's parents were there.  Waiting.  All day.  To say they were excited is an understatement.  So, while I was exhausted from my twenty-nine hour labor, I could not deny them an introduction.  An hour after coming into this world, Addison met both sets of grandparents and all of her aunts and uncles except one.  Once the families left around midnight, I had some more skin to skin bonding and another attempt at breastfeeding (my milk was late to the party).  Finally, around one in the morning, I decided I needed to get some actual sleep and asked the nurses to take Addison to the nursery.  After three short hours of trying to sleep, I was in terrible pain, worse than any contraction I had felt (of course I had gotten the epidural around 4 cm so I was never in real labor pain... details).  I asked the nurse for more pain meds and if such all this was normal.  She pushed on my stomach several times sending blood clots the size of golf balls out my lady parts and gave me a look of concern.  The nurse then asked me to try to use the bathroom and as she helped me up to get out of bed I nearly passed out.  The next thing I knew there was an alarm screeching and four more nurses in my room helping me back into bed.  Turns out my uterus did not want to contract.  I was given a shot of hormones and hooked up to pitocin again.  I was loosing more blood than I should.  During all this commotion, the baby had been brought back for me to nurse, but I did not get to do so before she was rushed out of the room when the band of nurses came in to help me.

The next day I was so tired, I only got out of bed to go to the bathroom.  Addison spent a little time in my room, but she slept most of it too.  I tried to keep track of how often she was nursing but my brain was barely functioning.  At night, I sent Addison back to the nursery to catch up on sleep trusting that the nurses would bring her back to eat every few hours.  Monday morning, I felt better and managed to get showered and packed up well before our check out time at 11am.  Brian and I were both ready to get home.  Around 10:30 the pediatrician came in to check Addison and then told us we could leave once the bilirubin test results came back.  Being first time parents we had no idea what this meant.  Nor did anyone at the hospital communicate to us prior to this that we were even waiting on test results.  Much to our dismay the results came back high and the Pediatrician told us they wanted to keep Addison for the day and night.  She would be put under a blue light for the duration of her stay and only brought out to nurse.  Also, she needed to have a formula supplement after each feeding to insure she was getting enough fluids.  The hospital let me and Brian stay, overnight, in the room we had been in all weekend.  While it was nice we did not have to leave, at the same time we were ready to go home.  We were frustrated with the poor communication.  We were terrified about Addison's bilirubin levels.  Note to readers: never google illnesses/conditions to "read up" on them... it leads to nothing good.  The heartbreak and helplessness I felt were overwhelming.  Seeing my little girl in the phototherapy box was gut wrenching.  Brian would not even go into the nursery after the first time he saw her in there.  I would go check on her, tears streaming down my face, and sing quitely the songs I sang when she was still in my belly.  I felt like a bad mother.  I had read that high bilirubin levels can be avoided with hydrating.  I blamed myself for her condition.  It was my fault for not nursing as often as I should have and sending her to the nursery to be cared for by someone else.  I apologized over and over again as I stared down at my little girl in her blue light bed.   I remember thinking that taking a picture would be too awful and I would never want to see it, but I wish I had.  Here is one I ganked off the internets to give you an idea of what it looked like:

Sometime in the early evening I went to check on her in the nursery.  The nurses has gone through a shift change and I wanted to make sure they knew about giving the baby formula after each feeding.  When I told one of the nurses this, she looked at the chart and told me this was not noted on there.  I informed her the doctor had told both my husband and I that was part of her treatment.  She called the Pediatrician to verify... and then once she had confirmation she noted it on the chart.  I was livid.  My baby had gone all day without the proper care!  I wanted to punch every staff member in the hospital in the throat.  The doctor had mentioned in our conversation that monring that if A's bilirubin level did not come down that she would have to stay at the hospital, in the NICU, and continue the phototherapy treatment.  After hearing that she was not getting the supplemental formula, I was convinced we would be leaving her at the hospital a few more days and that her condition would worsen (see, overdramatic).  I bawled.  I was so angry- at myself, at the nurses, at the doctor.  The next twelve hours were full of tears, restless sleep, and constant worry.  At 7 am the following morning we waited anxiously to hear if Addison was coming home with us or staying at the hopsital.  We were given the OK to take her home but with strict instrustions to keep pumping her with fluids.  I had to nurse every two hours around the clock and we were told to supplement with 15ml of formula each time.  The doctor said we were not out of the woods yet and the next five days were crucial.  Obviously, this story has a happy ending: at her 1 week check up she passed the bilirubin test with flying colors and had also put on weight and was up above her birth weight by one ounce!

Looking back now I realize that jaundice is very common.  Both Brian and I had it.  We survived.  I should of realized things would be fine, but those raging hormones and my over active imagination took over and really made it hard for me to realize all that.  It probably didn't help that I had my own brush with danger and that the hospital was terrible about communicating.  It really was not a big deal and I am so thankful for that.  My heart goes out to anyone who has had to deal with this and worse.  I can only imagine what it is like to have to deal with something serious.  Because I can't think of a good way to end this post I will leave witha  quote:

"Making the decision to have a child is momentous.  It is to decide forever to have your heart walking around outside your body".  -Elizabeth Stone      

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

The Third Trimester and Then Some

I just re-read my last post and had to laugh at myself.  Being my first pregnancy I really didn't have a clue.  Oh, I thought I did.  I talked with various friends who had recently had babies.  I read several mommy blogs and had three books on the subject.  I was pro at this pregnancy thing and nothing unexpected was gunna happen to this girl.  Hahaha!  That's some funny shit.

In order to save you some time, I will briefly state that I am a big moron for thinking that way.  At 23 weeks, yes, I was having a bit of trouble sleeping and coping with the odd comments.  Flash forward ten weeks and there was welling, aching hips and back, heartburn galore, and the added worry of high blood pressure.  In the beginning, you know, in my naive days, I thought I would work a 50 hour work week up until the day I gave birth.  No problem.  Hahaha!  Turns out my body had other plans.  I managed to make it to 38 weeks before the doctor told me I had to stop being crazy and cut down my hours.  I am glad she did because the last two weeks even at those shorten hours were hard.  Not as hard as the next part though.

Let's talk about being induced.  At my 39 week appointment, the doctor said I was only 1 cm dilated and with my high blood pressure she thought it was a good idea to schedule an induction prior to the baby's due date as she didn't want me going past the due date because high BP is no good for baby.  So we schedule the induction!  I was scared because I had read that inductions could be a longer labor.  I do not tolerate pain at all so the idea of deliberately putting myself in pain for longer than necessary did not sound that appealing.  But, I needed to do what was best for the baby and my health which meant sucking up my fear and getting on with the scary stuff.  It was nice, however, to know a date.  To know when she would be here.  To know I would be meeting my daughter in a few short days.

We went in Friday night to get things started.  I will save you the details but I will tell you by 4 am Saturday morning I was begging for the epidural.  Once that happened things seemed like the were moving along.  By 7 am I was 4 cm.  I thought for sure we would be done with this whole labor thing by 3 pm at the latest.  Hahaha!  By 5 pm I was at 9 cm.  At this point I had been in labor 23 hours and while I had drugs to numb the pain, I was ready to be done.  I had barely slept the night before, I had not eaten since the evening prior, and I still had to go through active labor and push.  They checked me again at 7 pm and I was still at 9 cm dilated.  The effacement thing was not happening and there was swelling on one side of my lady bits which was a big deal apparently.  At 9 pm (read: twenty seven hours in) the doctor came in and did her thing and said I was still swollen, and the baby was not dropping.  My husband and I both silently feared that she was going to say gear up for a C-section.  Which, side note, would have terrified me but that's a whole other story, but also would have pissed me off cause damnit I did not just go through twenty seven hours of craziness just to get cut open.  Really though, if I had to because the baby was in danger than that is what I would have done. Anyway... the nurse actually suggested a few practice pushes to see what would happen.  So I did.  The doctor and nurse both looked hopeful.  The doctor gave her blessing to keep pushing, made a comment about how we may have a baby before midnight, and left to "do some paperwork".  Before midnight?  Eff that!

I was exhausted but since everyone seemed encouraged by the first few pushes, I was determined.  Fourty minutes later, after pushing, puking, and (ahem) another "p" word, our little girl entered our lives and changed them forever.  Addison was born at 10:22 pm on May 25th 2013.  She rang in at 7.10 lbs and 21 inches!  She is undoubtably the best thing we have ever done and B and I are head over heels in love with her.

Sunday, January 27, 2013

Slightly Over Halfway There

I am 23 weeks pregnant today.  Because I am a total douche and cannot keep a secret, pretty much the entire world has know since like week 6.  Which makes this feel like the longest pregnancy ever.  Yes, I realize I am slightly over halfway there and still have a ways to go.  I really thought I would be one of those women who loves being pregnant.  And there are a lot of great things, don't get me wrong.  It's no secret that I love attention, so having people "ooohh" and "ahhhh" over the baby bump me is fun.  And feeling those first kicks is amazing.  Not to mention, once you are pregnant you enter this secret club where everyone talks in code: "how are you feeling?" = "has the morning sickness stopped cause you are starting to look normal again", "you're eating for two!" = "damn that's a lot of food but you are pregnant so no judging here", and "you're pregnant, how exciting!" = "your life as you know it is about to end!"  And then there are the people who just blurt out whatever is on their puny little brain without stopping to think that HEY, this might be considered rude!  For example(s):

Upon hearing I am pregnant some one said "Oh, that explains it".  Explains what, asshole?  Answer that and I will punch you in the face.

When guessing the gender of the baby someone told me it is a girl because I am frumpy in the face.  Awesome.  By the way, it IS a girl.

And another someone said that it is a girl because with girls you gain weight all over.  Did I mention IT IS A GIRL?! Awesome the second.

So yeah, there is that fun part.  And there was the fun part of notquitemorningsickness but you are going to feel like puking the entire damned day for two months.  That was awful, but ended around the beginning of the second trimester PRAISE JESUS!  And now I am having the worst time sleeping.  Which is as sucky as it sounds.  And thanks to everyone who keeps reminding me to "sleep now, cause you are not going to get any once baby comes."  Awesome to the third power.  So far, the sleep thing has been the worst.  And the crappy thing is as I get bigger I am sure it will get harder and harder to get comfortable.  And then, baby will be here and I will die of exhaustion.  The end.

Just kidding!  Wow, this post is a bit of a downer and sort of sounds like I am not excited at all about being pregnant.  Do not let the sarcasm fool you for it is a protective mechanism.  I am thrilled.  I am also scared, excited, nervous, anxious, happy, curious, and lots of other mixed emotions.  And I know that once that little baby is in my arms all of the above will be trivial and forgotten.  But part of me doesn't want to talk about the end result because of the "what if's" that haunt me.  What if I carry full term and the baby is still born (happened to a family friend of ours)?  What if the baby is born with downs?  What if she is autistic, blind, deaf, or anything else besides healthy?  I am a worse case scenario type of person... always expecting the bad so if the good does happen I am pleasantly surprised rather than terribly disappointed.  I have done this for as long as I can remember.  And this is why it is easier for me to write a rant-y post about my insignificant slightly crappy pregnancy woes than a gushy over-the-moon  mommy-to-be one.

I vow the next post will be upbeat.    

Monday, October 29, 2012

50 Shades of No Thanks

Admittedly, I was extremely slow to jump on the Harry Potter bandwagon.  I scoffed and ignored the rave reviews for three years.  When I did finally cave, I was like a crack addict itching for my next fix.  I read the first three books and then, once a new book came out, read ALL the books all over again.  Now I dream of receiving my letter in the mail to attend Hogwarts, debate if I would be in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, and laugh at the Muggles who don't get how cool these damn books are!

I will also tell you that I didn't run out and buy the Twlight books right away.  But, once I started reading the first, I drove to Target to purchase the second and third books just chapters into the first (not my proudest moment, I know).  My love for this series is not as great as my love for Harry Potter, but I am a fan.  And, since I know some of you are curious, I am team Edward all the way.  Jacob can suck it.

It also took me forever to get around to The Hunger Games.  A friend mentioned them to me years ago and when I found out the premise, I was like... uh, a lottery where the winning children kill each other for honor, food, and riches sounds like some medieval shit that does not interest me.  Fast forward a good six months and I see a movie preview and think maybe it could be cool  So, I read it.  And now am all  Katniss is such a bad-ass and when I grow up I want to be just like her!

To recap, I have a record of dragging my feet.  I go into these books not expecting much despite the hype.  But usually around chapter two I am hooked and calling everyone I know to talk about how Hagrid is such a lovable oaf, Rosalie needs to get laid, and Haymich's drink of choice is probably rubbing alcohol.  So I was obviously late to get on the Fifty Shades of Grey popularity train.  After hearing all the ladies at work laugh, whisper, and shriek about these books, I decided to give them a go.  I have had the books for over a month now (thanks to a lady at work who lent me all three) and I am about half-way through the first book.  And I have to say, this is honestly the hardest dribble I have ever tried to read.  And that means something because freshman year of high school I had to read Clan of the Cavebear.  But this, Fifty Shades of awful, is gag worthy.  I am not sure I will finish the first book, much less read the second and third.  In a nutshell, the writing is terrible and the premise totally unbelievable.  I am sad for America that this crap is on the New York Times Best seller list.   

Excuse me while I go wash out my brain.   

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

My Bitchy Face

When my best friend and I were younger, she would always introduce me to new people with a disclaimer, "This is my best friend, Sabrina.  Everything she says is sarcastic."  Which is really just a nice way of saying "She is a major bitch, but it's funny once you get to know her."  Sarcastic, bitchy... to-ma-to, to-mah-to.  Anyway, that is how ye old blog title came about; we were sitting around one day trying to think up a blog title that would really represent me and WHA-LA This is my sarcastic face was born.  I tell you this, dear reader, because it has occurred to me that probably ninety percent of my blog has not done this title justice.  So, for no one's enjoyment but my very own, I will commence with the sarcasm bitchiness.

For starters, I don't really like people.  I am quick to judge and even quicker to whip out a comment about hair/clothes/lifestyle.  For this reason celebrities become an easy target.  Also, I feel less guilty about ripping on celebs because 1) They are in the public eye and under constant scrutiny, 2) They have money to fix most anything, 3) There is a snowballs chance in hell that I will actually meet them and/or be confronted about my remarks, and 4) They are not real people.     

Let's begin:
Cameron Diaz used to be hot.  Can you believe this is the same woman who starred in The Mask?  Not sure where she went wrong, but now she just looks like a circus clown dressed in drag.

 I am sure I am going to take some heat for bashing Drew Berrymoore, but I can't stand the woman.  Her acting was terrible in E.T. and it has never improved.  Also, her big man jaw is extremely distracting.

 I have loathed Kristen Stuart long before the whole cheating scandal.  I will admit,  I read the Twilight books... twice.  And I loved them.  When I heard it was going to be made into a movie I was so excited!  But then K Stu was cast my dreams were dashed.  You can't have a rabbit play the heroin who conquers a vampires heart, that's just common sense.

 Ah, footface! aka Sarah Jessica Parker.

Uma Thurman.  What an ugly name.  How fitting.

Lastly, Imma pick on Angelina Jolie.  I used to LOVE her until she became a home-wrecking, stick insect, who thinks she is better than everyone because she adopted half the world's population.  Skank.

And that, my friends, is my sarcastic face.