This has been quite the week. I have often used this blog to vent and express, but it truly is a means of therapy for me.
I have always loved writing-I was an English/writing major in college. It is the most effective way for me to express myself-especially since I often do not say the right words.
I have avoided writing about this topic this week because it is difficult - but I feel like I need to get it off of my chest.
My Nana is dying. She is in hospice. She will pass-soon. I saw her on Sunday, and she was fine. Justin and I took HK to visit with her. The weird part of this is that on Saturday night, I had this OVERWHELMING desire to visit with her on Sunday. Thank goodness we went because she was admitted to the hospital on Monday and was unresponsive and in hospice on Tuesday. How quickly life can be given and taken.
I have to explain a little bit about why this is weird. I love my Nana. I admire her more than I admire most women. She is strong-probably the strongest woman I have known. She has lived with demons that I cannot fathom. She raised 5 incredible children-one of whom is my father. She has a temper and a gentle spirit about her. She is sweet and kind and assertive. She is a complete contradiction of personality traits. I got this from her.
I am not as close to her as some of her other grandchildren, and I have a lot of guilt about this. I am just thankful that I have a relationship with her and that I became more comfortable with her in the last few years. I know that sounds strange - being more comfortable with her - but I learned to just accept her for who she is and not be uncomfortable or upset with her faults.
I am sad that I don't have more time. I am sad that she is young and is leaving us. I am sad that I won't get her homemade frozen custard or fudge at Christmas. I am sad that HK won't get to spend more time with her great grandmother. I am sad that we are losing such a strong woman.
I am grateful that I am like her. I am grateful that I have her recipes. I am grateful that I have pictures of her from Sunday with HK. I am grateful that she made me assertive. I am grateful that she always had ice cream in her freezer. I am grateful that she loved and accepted her entire family without reservation. I am grateful that I am organized and a clean freak like her. I am grateful that her temper and demeanor are legendary.
I am proud that she is my Nana. I will miss her tremendously.
Another milestone - but I don't think that it is really much of one for HK. I think it is more of a milestone for her parents. She has moved upstairs to her crib. Yes, she is officially out of the bedroom. At least at night. At least for tonight. At least this is the plan.
The decision was made this morning when HK awoke at 6 am. This is not much of an issue except that she has been doing this for the past few mornings. It finally occurs to me that she is waking up when Justin's alarm goes off. So, I felt that it was time to move her to her own room. See, Babywise talks about babies waking up about 1-2 hours earlier than they had been around the 3 month mark and warns not to react or this earlier hour will become the normal wake up time. Well, all who know me know the importance of sleep in my life. Not to be a selfish person, but I feel that if we are scheduling here, I should get some say so in it. So, 6 am is not my time of choice. 7 is, however.
We will see how this goes.
I was not worried about it (a little sad-yes. It's like she is growing up and moving out or something)-until I talked to my mom. Mom says that I should sleep upstairs since this is her first night in her new big bed. Again, it's like we are moving her to a California King or something in Alabama. Mind you, I also have a video monitor-WITH night vision. So, I can see little miss and hear her just fine. But MOM says, "Well, what if the electricity goes out?" So-now I am actually sitting here debating whether or not I need to actually sleep in the adjoining room in case I need to rescue my baby from ...... um, a night of unaired sleep.
There are two channels on the video monitor. The first time I turned on the handheld receiver, I was greeted with the sleeping face of SOMEONE ELSE'S BABY!!!! The other channel fuzzily aired yet another toddler. I was tempted to post a sign in HK's bassinet that read, "I see you too," just in case we also have spies.
So, the next night, I show the neighborhood children to Justin-but I was all upset because it was almost 10pm and neither child was in his perspective beds. So, then I begin criticizing their phantom parents and their parenting, disciplining, scheduling skills because these two kids should be in bed by now sleeping. Geez.
Don't get all judgemental, though. I do not watch these kids at all. It was just these two times-and maybe a few more to just show other people who visit that I have a spy tech device in my house that is sold and disguised as a baby monitor.
Now, I am actually not a petroleum jelly fan. I mean-PETROLEUM. and JELLY. Yes-if you think about it, this is a completely accurate description of its contents. It coats and blocks the skin from breathing. This is a BAD thing for those of us trying to prevent wrinkles, but I realize that it is not the most awful thing for diaper rash. Rose Marie has mink oil in it-it soothes and provides great diaper rash relief, and it is wonderful for your lips as well! Just keep it sanitary people.
I found this cool thingy, the DigitsaverTM Door Pinch Guard. I got the monkey. Brilliant idea. I assume that I will have some windows open at some point with this warmer weather, and I want to air out the house for Spring. This creates PRIME door slamming conditions. Also, HK will eventually learn how to close her door-and lock it. This will also prevent that from becoming an issue. Look how cute-from Amazon.
And-HK received THE BEST GIFT EVER!!!! It is the kickin' coaster and you can find it on onestepahead.com. A friend recommended this-and she just goes to town kickin' those little legs!(No, this is not my baby-mine is much cuter).
Again-I don't make the rules here-there are just some things a girl cannot live without!
I seriously have to just bite the bullet here. It is time. Fun is over-no more games. No more ignoring. No more avoiding this one little word....
I am going on a diet. And, I truly hope that typing it right here right now on this page will force me to be serious about it.
My biggest problem? I will not lie-I LIKE bad food. I truly enjoy fast food. I crave cookie dough. I actually got up the other evening after I thought I was in bed for the night because I was craving chocolate chip cookie dough. I made some from scratch, ate half of it and froze the other half for future cookie dough cravings and self-medication.
I have had more pictures taken of me in the last 2 months since HK's arrival than I have ever in my life. And-I have to say that I am actually SHOCKED when I see myself in these photos. How is that possible, you ask? Well-apparently I am the QUEEN of denial. The QUEEN of self-preservation. The QUEEN of confidence and self-love. I have made it all right to look the way that I do because I have allowed it and told myself that it is all right. So, all of this love has given me 30 additional pounds TO love. And, since I am also a master of fluctuation, some days only 30 additional pounds would be just dandy.
Well-my friends, NO MORE.
Again-the more caps I use and the more I type it, the more I will have to pay attention to it. I am hoping that tomorrow when I am out and about delivering samples and such for work and pass by a fast food restaurant at lunch time, I will say to myself, "No, eat the fiber bar in your purse that you brought along for such moments of temptation and weakness because you BLOGGED about dieting. You must at least try for the sake of those poor people who actually read your whoa is me reel, fatty."
So-here's to another day. I will try to actually count points and be a responsible, calorie counting adult. God love those who will be dealing with me for the next few weeks while my stomach shrinks. Here's to "lifestyle changes!!!"
In fact, I am not certain that I can ever make her go to the doctor again. I am notorious for being a needle phob. When I was little, they had to bring in nurses to hold me down for a throat culture. A small army had to come in for a blood draw and the entire national guard for a shot. Unfortunately, I haven't gotten much better with age. While I have come to realize that it is quite unattractive to watch a 30ish (yes, ish...) year old make a complete fool of herself in the doc office over a shot, it still crosses my mind. I could take them all. Somewhere in my 20s however, I discovered that you could "decline" blood draws. So, I managed to go several years and through several annual check ups without blood work ups. Seems stupid to most, but I think that it is stupid to stick your arm out and willingly let someone prick through your skin with a sharp object-a FOREIGN object-that makes you bleed and bruise. SO THERE.
Needless to say, when it came time for HK's 2 month visit and vaccines, Justin went as well. They stuck that poor little peanut in the thighs with 3 shots-and the look of complete confusion, then realization, then PAIN....it was just awful. That little face turned a purple, red. The wide open mouth-no noise, silent scream.......then the high pitched shrieking wail. I am thinking "Breathe, Breathe." This mantra I keep repeating-for HK and myself. I hear myself saying at that moment in my head, "My poor little baby, you will NEVER have to go to the doctor again. Never ever ever." I am going to become Jenny McCarthy and swear off modern medicine.
I had to stop and buy her a little gift on the way home from the appointment-just to show her that I love her and did not let that mean nurse hurt her for no good reason. So, she did wind up with the cutest pink little jumper and a frilly white blouse. Now that we have had a few days to relax from this horrific event, I know that HK will return to the doctor's office and live to see another day. But good gracious-can't they just make all of those vaccines drinkable?
I knew that I would not be one of those moms who was completely distraught and lost when I have to leave my little baby with her grandparents, but I did not expect for it to be such a bummer for sure. I am constantly being surprised by this motherhood thing, and I am surprised that I like being a mom so much. I knew I would like having children, and I figured that I would like my children most of the time, but I did not expect to really LOVE being a mom as much as I do. That is a shocker to me. Again, she does not talk back yet, so remind me of this warm fuzziness in about 3 years.
I think that a huge difference between adopting and physically carrying a child comes with the moments of bonding. I am still amazed that HK can pick my face out of the several in front of her, lock in on me, and smile just for me. I am amazed when she turns to find me when she hears my voice. I LOVE IT. When you never get to feel a kick or the first butterflies of pregnancy, these are the first signs you have that you are someone's mom. It is just validation.
I know this seems like, duh...but it is really and truly in these moments of recognition in my little baby's face that I find such pure pleasure and happiness. I know that mom's everywhere understand. But, it is just these little things that make it all worthwhile.
I finally caught some of her first smiles on camera-this was for her dad. Enjoy!
I think I have it. By golly-I really think I have it!! The newest exercise rage...I am envisioning infomercials and all.
Yes-today I experienced the dreaded "Spanx" workout. Just trying to put them on burns over 1000 calories. It has to. And, if you are the faint of heart type, just stop reading right here. Just stop, because it does not get pretty. AT. ALL.
I am perpetually 10 minutes late. Always. And, I truly try to be on time. I really do. It is just not in me. 10 minutes late-it is my thing. So, over the weekend I am getting ready for the most lovely baby shower that was thrown for me and HK. I am running late. I am trying to get myself ready while running around like a chicken with my head cut off. See, HK is making an appearance at the conclusion of the shower. So, I am also barking out orders to poor hubby regarding HK's shoe selection and which ones match the dress I have laid out. Enter hubby-looking like his head is going to spin out of control with the words tights, white and pink crib shoes, and bloomers, rolling all around in it.
I am almost ready-just have to put the clothes on. I am one of those people who gets BURNING UP HOT while getting ready. The build up of hair dryers and flat irons just sends my body temp into the sweltering degree field. So, now I am barking orders to hubby to grab my dress that is hanging, take off the tags, grab my black pumps...and I am putting the first foot in the spanx. My heat, my fat, and my lotion that I just put on are completely fighting against the already unrelenting spandex fabric. Poor hubby just stops and stares. I can only imagine what he is thinking. Something like, "Huh, now I really understand what they mean by muffin top." But people, this is not a muffin top. This is every ounce of fat and skin I have being moved from my toes to my boobs. I am the human equivalent of an orange push up pop. Problem is, I am trying to gracefully put this contraption on and suck in at the same time so as to not completely scar the dear man for life. Not working. So, I have to suck it up-literally, and just ask for help.
So, I begin barking more commands, "Help me!! Help me!!!" He is aghast. He is horrified. I am flailing like a wet, sweaty fish. He grabs the waistband of the Spanx which have only made it to my mid thighs at this point and starts yanking up. I figure that the best way to help is to jump up and down and maybe between the two of us, I can get myself in the Spanx. I jumped, he pulled...we finally won the battle.
I was sweating even worse by the time it was over, but seriously-that was a workout. I could sell this. I might have to when my husband leaves me for a thin woman who has never heard of Spanx.
Anyone who knows me knows that I love shoes. You don't even have to know me well. Let's be honest-they always fit. Even on a fat day, your shoes will not mock you. They will never split or cling to your thighs like cellophane. In fact, heels automatically make your legs look longer and make you "lose" 5 lbs. Good heels give you 8-10 lbs. So, keeping this ratio in mind, it makes complete sense to spend good money on shoes because the higher and better the heels, the thinner you look. Name one pair of pants that create the same illusion every time you put them on or make you feel better every time you are wearing them. I rest my case.
When I had my first baby shower, my aunt, uncle, and cousins bought HK a WHOLE BAG of shoes. I mean-red ones, white ones, tennis shoes, rain boots, UGGs, black ones....they are just phenomenal. I mean-really wonderful. I am beginning to plan HK's outfits based on shoes. This makes a lot of sense because she gets the most comments and compliments on her shoes already. For instance, this evening there was a chance for rain. So, HK put on her rain boots. People stopped us in the restaurant to get a gander at those beauties. Ahhh-shoes are the common denominator for all of mankind. Shoes make everyone happy. Shoes could end wars. ESPECIALLY if they are little itty bitty baby rain boots.
So, these little shoe gems needed a home-a place where they could proudly be displayed. So, I commissioned a shoe rack-with angled shelving and all. Thank goodness that her Papa raised me and realizes that I am a little serious about what goes on the feet. He lovingly made her shoe shelf without even much sighing and only asked once if I was serious. Here is a picture of the newest piece of art in her nursery:
Seriously-that is a masterpiece.
We are adding shoe candy daily! She just got a pair of brown mary jane's and a pair of Winnie the Pooh slippers! In fact, the newest potential addition that I am drooling over are little crib high heels from Heelarious. These are not meant to walk in - they are crib shoes that have a fabric, collapsable heel. I think they are funny. I know that other people will not get the joke and think that they are in ill taste.
These even go beyond MY imagination! Who would have ever thunk it? What a riot!!
It's just me-and all of my idiosyncrasies. I work full time, I am married, and I love my dog. We just adopted a baby girl. I am completely contradictory, I am a girlie girl, and I am impatient. I like breakfast for dinner. I like apples and peanut butter. I like wine. I like entertaining. I like sleeping. I like labels and I can be a b-with an-itch when I want to be or am pushed. I want to give my baby every opportunity in the world, and I want to teach her values and the rewards of hard work. I want more children and am scared to death of the uncertainties of adoption even though I have already done it. I love my husband. I hate that I weigh the most I ever have in my whole life. I want my husband to make a zillion dollars a year, and I want him to put up his laundry and clothes when I ask. I want what most people want-and here is my story-day by day!