What Motherhood Teaches Me about Me

Obviously, I suck at blogging.

I’m a decent writer, but thank God this isn’t my bread and butter or my family would be emaciated by now. I love writing; in fact, I think of at least 10 things to write about a day. But in the day-to-day functions of my family, they get pushed aside. I’m ok with that. I’m also a lot more OK with a lot of things. So here goes.

* The house can be a mess and the world goes on. Obviously, my goal is that everyone has clean underwear or diapers, work clothes are accessible, and there’s at least some semblance of clean utensils to eat/drink on. Everything else is a bonus.

* I will never stop worrying. I know Jesus was talking to the world at large when he said, “Don’t worry about what you will wear, etc.” He wasn’t talking to moms: he knew we would keep worrying. In the last ten months, I’ve never thought a second about what I would wear. I have worrying a billion times about having something for the baby to wear, if anything would fit him, if he was warm enough, if he was comfortable, if he didn’t look like the orphans or poverty stricken photos of children because his shirt is stained and won’t come out.

* Banana stains. Who the hell knew that before you have a baby? You don’t. You know why? Because before a baby, you just ate the banana.

* I haven’t thought this much about what I was eating since loooong before rehab for my eating disorder. Seriously: is it ok to drink coffee? Is this too spicy? Does this have any nutrients that are really good for milk? Is any of this an allergen to a new body? What about dairy? What about hormones?  Sheesh… Now, fortunately, I’ve almost always eaten very well. Blame it on 30 years of dance training and knowing that food=fuel and you will get out of your body what you put in it, but we don’t buy junk food. Ever. But it kicked into high gear when I was building a human from scratch and then feeding a human with everything my body intakes.

* I absolutely HATE to watch the news. I didn’t like it before, but now, everything from news articles on Facebook to local news has some article on child abuse, a rabid daycare center, or a child death. It’s enough to make me want to run to my sleeping baby, and just hold him for the rest of his life.

* I’ve become more judgmental and then less judgmental of every parenting practice you see. As I’ve said before, I live in a very rural city. There are things that I see that I will never, ever, EVER, do. And then there are things that I see occasionally that I will never, ever, ever, do – and then promptly do them.

* I haven’t purchased new clothes in months; my son has a great wardrobe. I’m totally fine with that. I have purchased new shoes for a body that cannot walk.

* I am obsessed with cloth diapers. Sorry-not-sorry.

* I’m the mean mommy; he doesn’t get junk food, cookies, or ice cream. His newest love is mom’s fruit smoothie and all natural peanut butter. He will probably not know what a crappy McDonald’s chicken nugget tastes like, Kraft Mac n’ Cheese, or Kool-Aid will taste like for a very, very long time. I’m fine with that. He loves momma’s mac n’cheese, mom’s nuggets, and applesauce. He’s ten months, and over 22 pounds. I think he’ll be ok.

* I’ve never been this bonded or in love with something that beats the crap out of me, bites me, yanks my hair, yells in my ear, scratches my eyes, and keeps me awake for days at a time. If anyone else did that, they wouldn’t stay around long.

* I’ve never questioned my beliefs, values, or sanity like this in my life.

* I’ve never been this in love with my husband. Seeing him as a father is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

* I only blog when I’m procrastinating folding the laundry 🙂

See you guys soon.

 

Enough Self Love

A site that I absolutely adore posted this link about self-love. So you don’t have to open if you don’t want to, a 250lb woman strutted down Hollywood Blvd in a bikini. People then stared at her. Then she stated she wanted “to promote body confidence.” Now, what I understand about this is she’s aware that she needs to lose weight, but she wants to love herself now.

That’s absolutely awesome.

But can’t she do that wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a freaking shirt? The comments on the post made it worse that it should be. Everyone wants self-love. Everyone preaches self-love. But like it or not; how we dress matters. How we present ourselves matters even more.

I agree that so many need to have some self-love. No one should feel so terrible about themselves that they walk around in an outfit with their buttcheeks hanging out of the pant legs, and the sisters hanging out in the front. That is absolutely sad. Regardless of size.

We’ve gone way past self-love. Now we’re just using it as an excuse for selfishness, and calling it something to justify it. Below is my original comment, followed by the replies I received by some other followers.

I’m sorry, but… No. There’s self-love, and then there’s just being inappropriate. You CAN love your shape and dress for your shape at the same time. When we, as women, wear this nonsense, what message are we sending to our kids? Are we dressing like the women we wish our sons to marry? I doubt it.

ca——aw^^^ffs. What is so hard to understand about what @birthwithoutfear is trying to say? Every time someone gets all high and mighty. And wth would I dress ‘like the women we wish our sons to marry’? I dress for myself and occasionally for my husband. And I want my son to marry whoever steals his heart and loves him fiercely- what she (or even he!!!) is wearing has nothing to do with it. Shallow.

k—-dc Inappropriate for who?? Your eyes cause it’s something you don’t want to see?? Get over yourself. There are lots of men and women who love curvy women, why… because we have a confidence about us. We are at home and comfortable in our own skin. I personally think girls with a less than curvy figure that wear shorts up their ass or their breast falling out are inappropriate but that’s my opinion. I don’t tell them that because maybe they felt very sexy and confident that day. Good for them!! Don’t bring somebody else down cause it’s not to your liking or what you think is inappropriate.

jenntwilleySo, by that argument if your son walked in with someone who dresses like a prostitute, you’d be totally ok with that? Really? How we present ourselves *does* matter. I’m not saying don’t love yourself, but if you’re going in to a job interview, you really going to wear a lowcut top so the interviewer gets a good luck at the ta-tas? What’s shallow is doing everything for yourself and just expecting the world to cater to your whims.

jenntwilleyAnd I do agree that shorts up the ass and boobs falling out are inappropriate for skinny girls: because they are inappropriate *for everyone*

k—-dc There is a difference by going to an interview dressed skimpy abd messing a point as this lady was doing. Opinions are like assholes. Everyone has one and they are all different.

k—dc*and making

I could have gone on, but it’s basically pearls before swine at this point. This site is dedicated to mothers. And that’s my point. As a wife first, I dress so that my husband doesn’t have to apologize for me or be embarrassed by me. As a mother, I dress so that my son knows what a woman should look like. He thinks I’m wonderful already; but he needs to know what to look for. And if I don’t teach him something: everyone else will.

I am all about self-care and loving who you are. I’m more about making better decisions and self-awareness. If you want to only do something for yourself – and there’s nothing wrong with that – then don’t get married. And sure as hell don’t ever have kids. The day you commit to someone you are saying that you will never again make a decision that doesn’t only affect you. Having a child says that you will never again put yourself first.

Maybe this makes me an old-fashioned jerk. But I don’t think you should ever have to dress a certain way to show self-love.

Family Feud

source: Huffingtonpost

I do it. You do it. And it has to stop.

Ever talk to someone about something, and their response is so condescending, so pious, and so unrealistic that you just want to punch them in the face?

Then you hear them say something about everyone being “so judgmental” and “not as spiritually mature” as they are.

This is total crap. It has to stop.

It goes like this; you watch a cool show on Netflix, or on TV, or catch the news, and you ask someone about it, trying to make conversation…

You: Hey, did you see that thing on the Colorado blah de blah? It had Blah de Blah from So and So… very cool.

Them: Well, we don’t watch Blah de Blah. Actually, we don’t watch TV at all.

You: (in your head) Oh that’s right, I forgot you had the perfect family and never do anything that us simpletons do. Your three-year-old will most certainly get into Harvard by the time they’re 10. Thank you for opening my eyes to the truth about everything. You know what? Maybe I should just follow you around for a day or so, and just write everything down that you do…

Ok, maybe I took that last sentence a bit too far. But not that much.

Two mothers are at a playground. The kids are all being kids; playing in the dirt, swinging on the swings, and making up a game where only they will understand the rules.

Mom 1: Which one is yours?

Mom 2: One in the red shirt. Yours?

Mom 1: One in the green shirt. They look like they’re playing really well together!

Mom 2: Yeah, well ever since we removed gluten, dairy, red dye no 5, cartoons, puppies, and peanut butter from his diet, as well as limit his screen time, got him a private tutor for his brown-belt in jujitsu, he seems like a different child. I mean, who would have thought that only using purely organic essential oils on his solely organic, non-gmo steamed vegetables would have such an effect? 

Mom 1: (in their head) I would kill myself.

Two parents are talking in the lobby of a crowded restaurant. It’s a family friendly place: lots of kids, lots of noise.

Parent 1: Oh my goodness, she’s so cute! How old is she?

Parent 2: Seven months.

Parent 1:Oh, wow… so she/he’s on solid foods, talking, crawling, and playing the bass?

Parent 2: Uhh… actually, we’re breastfeeding, so no, he hasn’t had anything solid yet. He’s definitely trying to crawl, though! nervous laugh…

Parent 2: Oh, I guess I don’t know what the norm is for kids these days. I’m sure he’s fine.

Parent 1: (In their head) Well, golly, I’m so freaking glad we got that out of the way.

Every family does things a little bit differently. I don’t think most of us are trying to offend someone when we respond the way we do, but at some point we really do have to take a step back and reflect. If you’ve been friends with someone for years, or you just met them, or you have no idea in the Sam Hill who they are, take a second to realize the reality that their situation is going to be different from yours.

And besides that, unless they ask you for your stance on TV, fast food, global warming, the Presidency, books, or child development;

Shut up. Just shut up. No one cares about your stance on food, GMO, breastfeeding, child rearing, or yoga. No one cares unless they ask you what you care about. It’s not you; it’s them. They have a life too and are doing what they need to for their family.

Not everyone has a dairy/gluten/peanut/puppy/allergy, mmmkay? Are there those of us that do? Yes, and I have a family of them. Ironically, we’re all allergic to different things. But I am trying, and I think we all need to try a little harder.

No, I didn’t see that show. I should look that up.

Yeah, they are really having a good time!

Aren’t babies so beautiful?

Is it that hard to lift someone up without lifting yourself up higher than they are? Is it that hard to tell someone else that they, too, are doing a great job rearing their children? Is it that hard to be positive, without a political spin on your own praise?

Tell me I’m wrong.

When Mommy is sick…

I have learned something momentus about family life…

When Baby is sick, Mom stops the world as she knows it, and cares for the baby. Lots of hugs, nursing, snuggles, nursing, naps, and definitely some nursing. I can’t even promise that the nursing does anything, but it makes us feel like we’re doing something to help besides singing the itsy-bitsy spider for the umpteenth time.

When Daddy is sick, he is immediately quarantined. Mommy pushes fluids, soups, and medicine from a distance. She loves Daddy. Just not enough to catch what he’s carrying.

But when Mommy is sick…

Houston, we’re totally screwed.

Baby still needs to eat, and be changed, and eat. Baby doesn’t understand that you’re so weak you may drop him. Baby doesn’t understand that now may not be a good time to use your nipples as a teething ring.

Poor Daddy.

In our case, Daddy actually caught it also. We spent the day tag-teaming who got to sleep, and who had to deal with the also-sick-but-certainly-not-sleeping Baby. My sweet husband moved the changing station to the floor so we wouldn’t have to stand to change a diaper, knowing that if we were vertical for more than 30 seconds, we’d be puking on our son.

I was up every hour; either to throw up myself, to change a seriously hazardous diaper, or to nurse the very cranky Little One. Hubs took the day shift full of ‘lower GI problems’ and it was all we could do to make it across the house.

Fortunately, it was short-lived for me. So, for now, life has gone back to the world as we know it. Hubs went back to work. It’s been snowing like crazy here (for those of you who live in warmer climates, please comment with your home address.) so I’ve been locked inside the house anyway for weeks.

Thank heavens the Facebook Fast is over. It was interesting and partially hilarious to hear the feedback coming from my friends. The Mom friends I have seem to understand. Mom friends with young kids are sympathetic, but we all understand that this is the ship we cast off of daily. Just as other bloggers have pointed out, no one throws us a parade for being a mommy.

What is hilarious, are the sweet friends who either do not have children, or their children are grown. I know. Because five short months ago, I was one of those annoying hipsters… with their spiffy clothes, full-time jobs, spare income, and nights of sleep.

They look at you. In the eyes. And in their most well-meaning tone they say…

Get some rest.

Great.

Am I being condescending? Yes. Yes, I am.

Am I jealous of them? A little. I miss being able to sleep in. I miss being able to take a shower and leave the house without the logistical planning of the conquest of Saigon.

But it’s a small price to pay for being a Mommy.

The bear is waking… see you all soon.

Feminism… You’ve Screwed Us Again.

You’ve turned women against women; for the very reasons we are both fighting for.

I’m a little tired of the Mommy Wars.

It’s total bullsh!t.

I posted on a Facebook site the other day how happy I was that my city (that isn’t known for its class and quality) is getting a cloth diaper store! Finally, I don’t have to drive an hour for things like diaper cream that’s CD safe. If she sells cold-pressed coconut oil, I may just move in to the store.

FORTY-FIVE COMMENTS LATER… I deleted the post.

It went from everything about the lingo of cloth diapers, and some of the negative connotations they can have, to the political stance of tax dollars going to SAHM’s instead of to the military….

I just about lost it.

This was a site dedicated to doing things in a positive way, for Christ’s sake. Where babywearing, cloth diapers, and a delayed vaccination schedule are the norm, not the anti-Christ.

And they tore each other to BITS.

Some are working moms; others stay at home full time. Some exclusively breastfeed; some pump, and others use formula. Some have hospital births; some have homebirths with no medical assistance whatsoever. And everything in between.

And, somehow, one choice is better than all others. Really?!

I work two different part time jobs. I am both a counselor, and a dance teacher. Three days a week, I’m a counselor. One evening per week, I am a dance teacher. The rest of the time, I get to be at home with by beautiful 5-month old baby boy. On the days that I’m working with my teens and building them up, I come home exhausted, fulfilled, and accomplished. On the nights that I teach 3 different disciplines of dance, I come home exhausted, fulfilled, and accomplished. On the days where I get to spend some beautiful time nursing my son, doing laundry, and cleaning my home, I end the day exhausted, fulfilled, and accomplished. It’s not a “better life” to work or to stay at home, in the end, you have to decide that you will be fulfilled in the role you have chosen: to embrace it, and to fill it to its core.

Just because we live in a society where women can be anything, doesn’t mean we have to be everything.

If you are unhappy with the role you have taken, I’d advise you to take stock of yourself first. Are you unhappy with something simply because You Are Unhappy? If that’s the case, then regardless of your job or role you decide you play, You. Will. Stay. Unhappy.

A fellow blogger wrote recently that regardless of your role, you don’t owe the world an explanation of how hard your job is. I love it. I do have to work. The money that I make doesn’t do anything but put gas in our cars and food in our bellies. That’s why I have advertisements on the main site and on the cooking site, because it off-sets the cost of keeping the site up.

But in the end, if I didn’t love doing it… I wouldn’t be friggin doing it.

But in the age of Women Can Be Everything a Man Can Be, we’ve forgotten that only women can be Mothers. Only men can be Fathers.

Now, if you’ll excuse me… someone just woke up.

So, I’m not the only one?

messagewithabottle.tumblr.com

So, this article has just surfaced about a SAHD that put little sticky notes all over the house so he could tell his wife what he does during the day.

I call BS.

First off, I’ve seen these little notes before; in little articles, in a Reader’s Digest, Cafemom, whatever. They’re not original.

Secondly, if a SAHM did this, it would just be noted as a plea for sympathy.

Well, at least I’m not the only one who has this desire?

A desire to be noticed.

In one of my favorite movies of all time, Susan Sarandon is talking to the PI that she’s hired to follow her husband. Turns out, Mr. Gere is not having an affair: he is taking ballroom dancing lessons. But she’s trying to talk to the PI about why people get married; she says,

 Because we need a witness to our lives. There’s a billion people on the planet. I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you’re promising to care about everything. The good things. The bad things. The terrible things. The mundane things. All of it. All the time. Every day. You’re saying, “Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go unwitnessed because I will be your witness.”

Is that what Facebook does? Does it give us the opportunity to notice each other and be noticed – or just, as I’ve written before – give us an outlet for sympathy. A way to say, “I have it harder than you.” or “I have it better than you.”

The days I’m a Stay-at-Home-Mom are just as tiring as the days I’m seeing clients and running around town. However the differences are stark: I make money when I’m seeing clients and teaching groups. I turn in an invoice for what I did, and notes for what we talked about, curriculum we’ve covered.

When I’m “just at home” with my son, my biggest accomplishment is laundry, dinner ready at a decent time, or clean floors. Rarely is any of that noticed because it’s just a day at home with my son. I love doing it. If I could make decent money and just stare at the baby all day, I’d do it. But I’d miss out on getting to help broken families put the pieces back together and learn how to ‘do life’ together.

I don’t leave sticky notes all over the house explaining “oh my word, this diaper is FOUL” or “Wow! Did you know we literally could make another dog from all the hair under the sofa?” because honestly, it’s not anything that a billion women all over the world do every single day.

I guess that’s why it mystifies me as when a Dad does it, it’s a big deal. He needs to be noticed for what he’s done for the family.  Just like all of us.

But seriously… just clean the damn wall and shut up.

Holy Spirit Parenting 101

There’s been more controversy over parenting styles in the last year than the Benghazi scandal.

There’s the Attachment Parenting Style, the Hug-A-Tree-Love-A-Bunny Style of Parenting, the Authoritarian/Authoritative Style, Helicopter Parenting (I kid you not – Google it) and the list goes on. But the most controversial of all of them is the Babywise/Ezzo method of doing stuff.

The people that love it claim that it has gotten their kiddos on a schedule. They sleep, eat, and cry less. Also, the children are doing well.

The people that hate it have very, very good reasons to hate it. Some of the kiddos raised in this method have developed RAD (Reactive Attachment Disorder) and have some serious consequences.

I am not doing any of these. But as someone who is a constant researcher, I have become quite eclectic in everything I do: counseling, clothing style, and now, parenting.

Please don’t get me wrong. I KNOW that I know nothing. That’s what makes this so fun. I love asking questions, and hearing the answers. And for now, what works for us is patterns, not styles.

My son just turned one month old on Saturday. His greatest accomplishments so far are that he came out of the womb holding his head up and looking around. He loves his Boppy, and loves being propped up in it so he can watch everything around him. He HATES having a wet diaper; also, changing said diaper. There’s no win there. He also doesn’t sleep for more than 30-45 minutes during the day. So, all of those people that tell you to “sleep when the baby sleeps” need a good, solid, smacking. You can’t sleep for 30 minutes and accomplish anything.

I tell my husband that I can accomplish 3 things per day.

1. Eat
2. Laundry
3. Dishes
4. Floors
5. Fold the above laundry
6. Sleep
7. Shower
8. Pump so my boobies do not explode
9. Cook dinner

I can pick any of these three, but it cannot exceed that number.

And, honestly, I was going literally insane. I was tired to the point of hallucination, and in so much pain that I could barely walk across my house. I kept thinking that I was supposed to be doing something different than what I was doing, and it was driving me crazy.

So, at one of the many 1am, 2am, 2:30am, 3:30am, and 5am moments where I found myself awake, I just started to cry, and whine. And get so angry at my husband for things he hasn’t even done yet… and cry some more… And then it hit me:

Praying, Napping, Listening intently to Jesus

Pray. Not just pray, but PRAY… Seek after His Face and His Heart. Talk to your Dad, and get HIS PARENTING ADVICE.

Maybe, just maybe, the God who gave me this gift would know how to operate it.

So, I started researching again. This time, instead of looking for “What Am I Doing Wrong?” I looked for “What Can I Do Well?” and “What Might Work for Our Family.” Not a guarantee or a hug-the-bunny-it-turns-into-a-unicorn moment. Just a guideline.

It worked.

Why was I surprised?

I was literally surprised when prayer started working. Seriously?

Something crazy started happening: he started sleeping, crying less, and eating with regularity. He was never doing poorly: he’s been gaining almost a pound a week. But I could never keep up with him, and felt like I was being dragged around by him. Now, I know what he needs before he needs it, and I feel like I know what to expect.

So, I will probably start editing the Page Holy Spirit Parenting 101 more often, just as the Lord leads, with lessons that I’ve learned as a brand new mommy. I’m sure it’s stuff that most know already, but it’s new to me. I know that a lot of this is a learning curve, and that there’s no way to research, read books, and study up on this stuff. But I’m slowly learning to ask my Dad what my baby needs. And everyone knows Dads give the best advice anyway.

Work-At-Home-Work-at-Work-Work-at-Everything-Mom

I was going to call this, “The greatest dilemma I’ll ever face” but no sooner would I call it that, then something else more major would fall in its place.

Am I going back to work?

And by that one question, it brings out a hundred more. It’s the crazy cycle that can drive anyone insane. When you’re doing one thing, you feel like you should be doing something else.

Can I work part-time? Who will watch the baby during the day? Can I work only in the evenings, teaching groups and dance? Who will watch the baby when I’m gone in the evenings? What about when Hubs is out-of-town? Can we afford to live on my husband’s salary? Will I really be able to hack it if I’m “only” a stay-at-home mom? Can I do work at home? Can we make this work another way? Am I stressing out a little too much?

YES. Yes, I am. And no, not really. It’s not the questions that worry me; it’s the answers. The answers from everywhere that say, “this is what we did, and it worked for us.” While that’s certainly well-meaning and sincerely appreciated. No one situation works for more than that family. I know some things for certain:

1. I do not want to work full-time.
2. I would really, really prefer to be at home full-time. That thought also terrifies me.
3. I love what I do as a counselor. Like, I really love it. Today tore my heart out in 10 different ways, and I still absolutely love what I do.
4. I love what I do as a dancer. Like, I really love it. I can’t imagine a world where I couldn’t dance, and I love teaching.
5. I love that my husband has a job that he is passionate about. I love that he can finally go to school and finish his degree.
6. The only person I’m concerned about disappointing: my husband.

I’m also really, really good about being a hermit when I want to be. I think that’s why I like blogging so much. I don’t actually have to be around people; I don’t really have to talk. I just get to write. To people. Without ever having to really talk to them. I can be there for them, and give them the listening ear that so many need and leave to go pee without them noticing I’m gone for a few minutes. Blogging is an introvert’s dream.

But, I can’t make money holed up in a corner. Not with my degree. And, I’m not super convinced that we can really make it on one salary. And I know one thing: I will feel guilty either way I decide to do things.

If I stay at home, I will feel bad for putting so much pressure on my husband to be the sole provider for his family. Up until now, it’s been a team sport. We both contribute, love what we do, and love the conversations we have about our day at dinner.

If I go back to work, even for 5 minutes a day, I’m going to feel guilty about not giving him the 100% consistency that he really needs. I will know that I’m missing something in my son’s life. I will be happy that I’m contributing to my family’s income, but will probably be worried that the dishes aren’t done, the laundry isn’t done, and the house isn’t spotless so I should be home doing that.

If I stay at home, I’m still going to worry that the house isn’t spotless (even though no one cares but me) and I should be doing some kind of Pinterest craft, making large amounts of organic baby food, sewing projects (even though I don’t know how to sew) and still waxing poetic about some kind of universal conflict for my clearly controversial yet simplistic blog with thousands of followers (sarcasm much?)

The crazy part; I know my husband doesn’t care what I do. He loves our family; and would do anything to make it succeed. He loves the same thing about me that I love about him: that we live with goals and aspirations and passion. He’d never dream of taking that away from me, but knows I would give it up in a second – if it would help his dreams come true. I know he’d love to make more money, so this isn’t a conversation that we have to have. But at the same time, people do this worldwide with a helluva lot less than we have right now.

I also know that there isn’t a day that goes by that God hasn’t given us some kind of provision. Seriously. Not sure how it’s worked a few times, but it’s always worked. I know God is calling us from Manna to the Promised Land. But I really love that He’s still the God of Both. I love that my God is proud of me and my son already. He gave me the gifts that I have – all of them. Including the one happily bouncing on my bladder.

 

New Mom Freak-out Time.

A bedtime conversation ensued a long and terrible thought process for me a few weeks ago. I’ve been

mulling it over, and part of me is still excited – the rest is just completely terrified. So, while Mr J is playing with the right side of my ribcage, these are the questions I’ve been asking myself – and the only answers I’ve come up with so far.

1) What if I really suck at labor?
I have pretty high pain tolerance. At least I think I do. Problem is: I’ve only broken some little bones; I’ve never had surgery; I’ve never really needed stitches except for once and my studly amazing husband took such great care of me all I needed was a tetanus shot, and some crutches.

And I’ve sure as hell never pushed a cantaloupe through a lemon with a smile on my face.

2) Who is going to be in the room with me other than Hubs?
I know they’re going to ask. Here’s the problem: my mom is an emotional wreck most of the time; and has always found a way to make things about her. She ruined a wedding shower, a couple of hospital stays (for family) and almost my entire stay in rehab because she could make anything be about her. She also really, really can’t handle bodily fluids – although she’s gotten much better about this. I’m still not sure I’m going to feel super comfortable with her in the room. My Mother in Law is awesome – but she’s also an OB-GYN nurse, and likes to push pharmaceuticals. She LOVES them. I can’t stand them, and honestly, I really want to have a home birth, but I know I’d never ever ever have her support. We also live about an hour away from the nearest decent hospital, and it’s not an ideal situation. Ideally, I’d really like it just to be me and Hubs, but that’s also going to step on a few toes. Maybe the solution will be people can come in and out? I’d love for our grandmothers to be there – but they might not know what’s going on.

3) When do my b@@bs stop becoming play dough?
Because right now, they pretty much take the shape of whatever container they’re put in.

4) Am I being obsessive about not wanting to gain a lot of weight?
So far, I’ve only gained 7 pounds at 24 weeks preggars. But let me be clear: I weigh in around 160lbs. I’m not a delicate flower. I’m quite muscular, so I understand that not all of this is fat, but my BMI could come down a few points, and it would be really helpful. I lost quite a bit of weight in the last year. I weigh now, at 6mos preggo, what I weighed at my wedding. I want to keep that going. Even my GP doc was like, “Is the baby growing? Mmmkay… What’s the problem?” I eat a ton of vegetables and fruits, and while they are awesome for nutrition, they’re low in calories. So, I’ve had the challenge of trying to add caloric-rich foods that don’t destroy my diet. And are gluten-free. Yeah.

5) What if I… like… get tired of being a mom?
Ok, that sounds awful from the moment I put it down, but I’m just being honest. Let’s face it, the longest commitment I’ve made so far is having a great dog. He’s almost 9, and I love him to pieces. I love my husband, and it’s not like I’m tired of being his wife, but I’ve had it pretty easy. I can leave the dog at home I HAVE to leave the dog at home to go grocery shopping, to work, or to church. And, yet, no one calls DHS when I leave the fur-kid outside on a nice day with a huge bowl of food and water (and chewies) to let him sleep in the sunshine while mom and dad go to dinner.

I have to take this thing e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e. And that seriously and completely terrifies me.

6) Do I really want to vaccinate?
No. I don’t. And I know my family will completely disown me if I tell them that.

7) Will my sleeping abilities change?
Oh, man, I hope so. I sleep so soundly that the baby monitor will have to use electric shock to get me out of bed. I thought about doing the co-sleeper thing (it attaches to the bed, so baby gets his own space) but I’m very active in my sleep, and I’d be terrified that I’d punch the kid because I’d forget he’s supposed to be there.

8) Where’s the dividing line between wanting to save money and just being downright cheap and nasty?
We’re really wanting to do cloth diapers and make our own baby food. Partly because it’s cheaper, and partly because if I hear of another recall on baby food, I’m moving the family to New Zealand. But the start-up costs are much higher, and I’m terrified I’ll still screw something up. The biggest problem here is that Craigslist doesn’t have a gift registry, and I definitely feel like a cheapskate if I put on my Babies R Us list to just get everything at garage sales.

9) What if I can’t handle being this unselfish?
Let’s be realistic. So far all I’ve given up is not getting to drink wine and beer, some sushi, and a couple of bras. I have the most amazing husband in the world, and if I’m tired, I just lay down and take a nap. I work hard, and still take care of our home well, I think, but that’s it. I love giving my time to help others. I love that my job means I help others and put families back together. But even now, I volunteer on my own terms. I get to love on other people’s babies and then give them back. I’m seriously aware that so far the only major thing I’ve given up is starting graduate school. But my mantra has been that if I’ve prayed for a child for years, the least I can do is take good care of this gift.

10) what if the kid doesn’t like me?