Rambling On

You guys...it has been a long time since I have blogged. I am bad at this apparently. Anyways, I have a new goal. And that is...with summer fast approaching (lawd help me)...I am going to try my hardest to blog on the daily. That being said...please send me your ideas and topics of interest. Because I am really (obviously) not that interesting.

Moving right along...

Have you ever had one of those days where your kids are just evil spawns? Like they don't ever shut up. And they have all this energy. And they cry and whine and annoy you? All day long. Every single minute. Every single, slow second. So the day never ends. Because that was my entire day today. And I have a clogged duct in my boob. Which makes me even crankier. Anyways, I was in close relation to Oscar the Grouch today. ((This blog is brought to you by the letter F and U)) Let's face it. Kids can be obnoxious as fuck. YOUR kid(s) can be obnoxious as fuck. And if you're denying it...you're not my friend. (maybe you are...whatever)

But...my babies are now sleeping. And Grey's Anatomy is on. And I just ate a really great salad and piece of pecan pie. So all is right with the world. Except for my boob. That boob is really pissing me the fuck off.

Anyways, enough rambling...this is my first summer as a stay at home mom. I'm not going to lie. I am slightly terrified. I love my kids. I love my kids more than life itself. BUT I don't know how to do it. What are we going to do all day? And what if Bowen acts like he did today...but like..every day....for the whole summer? How will I survive? How will HE survive?

Here is the deal. I am getting used to this stay at home mommy thing. I truly cannot imagine having to put little Endie in daycare or with a babysitter. (I have read WAY too many scary articles lately) I am loving (and also hating slightly) the breastfeeding thing. As much as I try to pump, I just am not getting enough to feed a baby for an entire day. So I have the baby all day mommying down, but not the eight year old all day mommying. So again...suggestions welcomed. (We are not doing day camp though...so please don't suggest that)

This is what I have realized about this whole motherhood shindig. It is a learning experience every day. It is also a challenge every day. Every. Single. Day. Some days your babies are little magnificent angels. Some days they are awful little energy syphoning midgets. But every day, we can learn something new. Even if it is just that you learned (remembered) tomorrow is a new day.

Also...remember to snuggle and smooch those little assholes. I mean, it may be after they have been peacefully sleeping for a few hours and you've had a glass of wine and hot shower. But go smooch them. Tell them you love them. And remember we don't get this day back.

And just as important is remembering that you are only human. You get to have a bad day. A day when you literally cannot handle another meltdown or the question, "Why?" being asked one more time. You are human. And not every day is going to perfect. Just let them know that you love them. You are sorry for not having patience or whatever it is you did wrong. And remember...tomorrow...is a new day.

That being said...I have to go put a hot, damp diaper (clean) on my boob and massage it. And enjoy some Grey's before I get outvoted on it. And maybe eat another piece of pie. Because this day has kicked my big, fat ass.

Poop Filled Life Lessons

I am sitting here on the couch with my gorgeous three month old kicking me and my amazing seven year old making popcorn, when I hear from the kitchen, "I am the awesomest boy in the world! Me and Ender are the awesomest boys in the world!!" And I smile. Because they are. I have always wanted to be a mom, since I can remember. When I was a kid I wrote terrible little stories about being a mom of eight kids and driving a minivan. Obviously a lot has changed. I mean...a minivan...get the fuck outta here with that. But me wanting to be a mama has never once changed. (Maybe not eight kids though. My uterus just tried to crawl out of my body at the mention of that.) So with this grand plan for my whole entire life of being a mom, I wonder why I didn't pay MORE attention to my parents and other parents. Because, it was brought up today that children learn about being a parent, from their parents.

Bowen was talking to me about being a parent. Here is our little conversation.

Me: Bowen what do you think you have to do when you are a mom or dad?

B: Feed and water your kid. Give them love and care. LOTS of love and care.

Me: How do you know how to love and care for your kid?

B: I don't know, I will probably learn a little in school. But mostly I will learn from you. Yea. I will just learn how to love and care because I watch you. ALL. THE. TIME. I can't talk about this anymore. I have to poop. I'm about to explode from poop.


Wow...so once you get past the image of a child with explosive shit...what he said was really impacting. Our kids are watching us all the time. (Kids are jerks) And they learn from us. I mean, you truly cannot live by the, "Do as I say, not as I do" motto, it doesn't really work. Studies show that if you smoke, your kids are more likely to smoke. But even without studies, common sense and videos on YouTube show that if you cuss, your kid will probably cuss (sigh...I am fucked then) and if you do inappropriate things, your kids will probably follow suit.

I know there are a ton of things I can work on as a parent. And if you don't think that YOU have things to work on, you are up Denial's stream without a paddle. One of the things I said I would NEVER do as a parent is yell. My Dad was a yeller and I hated it. Lo and behold, I popped out a kid and soon found out, I followed in those exact footsteps. I can say that I have really been working on that a lot over the last few months and it has definitely come close to a stop. But there are days when I do yell. Mostly because you can only repeat yourself 963 times before you lose your shit. And also because I am human, which means I am not perfect. Some days I have no patience. Some days I cry in front of my kids. Some days I don't give them the attention they want. And some days I am completely selfish and their wants (whether it be to snuggle or talk about a video game) are put on the back burner. Fact of the matter is, every day is a day I can improve. And knowing is half of the battle. Or so they say. (They seem to be really big know it alls.)

There are a million other things I want to be known for as a parent. I want my kids to tell me that I was patient and kind and understanding and open minded and fun. I want my kids to see me as reliable and accountable and helpful. There are so many things I want to be as a parent and I HOPE that I am showing my kids that.

So...the moral of this story is...our kids are listening and watching and learning from us. And I heard it straight from a kid. Apparently reminders to "Be on your best behavior" should go both ways. Every day is a day we can change and improve and I just got the proverbial face slap to remind me of that. Now, I must go and deal with the child who doesn't speak, but actually does have explosive poop going on.

Stay At Home Mom Thoughts

Back in the day, I was a single, full-time working mom. I usually had two jobs to make ends meet. And I always seemed...or felt...like I had it together. Now, I am a stay at home mommy of two kids and I feel like I have nothing together. I mean, the laundry is never caught up. I almost always need to vacuum (ok in my defense, our carpet right now is dark blue, so everything shows up) and at least one, usually both, of the bathrooms need to be cleaned. Nowadays, I feel pretty secluded, unless I get out for a meeting for an hour a few times a week...so literally most of my conversations are one sided and about poop. Probably the hardest thing for me is not contributing financially. I feel like I have put a huge burden on my significant other and, as a partner, I want to carry my fair share of the load.  I have a lot of time to think about this stuff and I think about it every day. Like magic, today I ran across this article about some common stay at home mom complaints. I could relate to so many of the things in this article on so many levels. Needless to say, I am hoping I am not alone and I have a friend or two who gets it.

So I just spent 15 minutes typing up my mom complaints. They ranged from not feeling like I am doing something important or goal oriented anymore. I mean, cleaning a bathroom and doing the laundry doesn't quite give the same satisfaction as meeting a deadline and doing it to perfection. To having days where I am so over being needed ALL the time. Like if I am asked one more question or cried at one more time, I am going to cry. And the days where nothing is going right...the baby is super fussy, my boobs are aching, the oldest one is having meltdowns, and my significant other is stressed and I can't fix it, then to top it all off, the electricity goes out.

Then I deleted it all.

Don't get me wrong, I LOVE that I am able to stay at home with my kiddos. I was never able to do that with Bowen. I went back to work when he was three months old and it was really hard. I felt like a bad mom. Not many moms, especially nowadays, are able to stay with their little ones. I am SO lucky to be able to do that. It takes away a lot of stress for me to be available in case Bowen gets sick or has an appointment. Plus, and most importantly, we don't have to worry about these psycho daycare workers hurting or mistreating one of our kiddos. (That seems to be in the news WAY too often now) And, with the crazy expense of daycare, it just doesn't make financial sense for me to work. I'd be working to pay for two kids to be in daycare. But most importantly, I am so glad I can spend this extra time with my kids. I love snuggling with the baby in the mornings. I love that I have a drop off and pick up routine with Bowen. I love that I can hug and kiss my kids at any time during the day. I really have it made with this stay at home mom-dom.

But it seems to me, that if a mommy says, "Holy shit, being home with kids all day is challenging!" we get the third degree. "You have it made" and "You are so lucky" and "I NEVER got to stay home with my kids, I wish I had it so easy" among other things are the retorts we get. And that fucking blows. Sometimes, we just need to vent. Sometimes, we need a break from boogers and diapers and back talk. Sometimes, we need to know we can be more useful than the maid/laundry machine/personal chef. And it may seem trivial to those of you who are working...and maybe it is in the grand scheme of things...but this is what goes through my head. As in most things, a little support goes a long way.

When did it become such a bad thing to admit that parenting is a challenge? Or for someone to admit that motherhood, especially being a mom who is home with her kids all day every day, is hard? And to say that sometimes you need a break? And WHY do we need to justify our feelings!?!

I keep reading and hearing about this mom shaming stuff and apparently it is alive and well, because I feel it!! And honestly, most of it is self imposed. I worry that if I mention any of the daily feelings and stressors I will get rained down on and made to feel worse. Why do other moms feel they have the right to talk shit or shame someone for feeling the way they feel? THAT, my dear mommies, is not the business and that shit needs to stop right now.

ALL parents know that parenting is anything but easy. It is the most challenging (rewarding, yes, but still challenging) thing we have probably ever done. As the song says, "What the world needs now is love" and we DO. We need some support and some understanding. A pat on the back every now and then. Moms and Dads alike!! We would't want our little ones to be treated, judged, and downsized like I mentioned before, so why do we do it to ourselves? It is true, kids learn from your actions. So...let's keep that in mind ladies and gentleman, and make things just a smidgen easier on ourselves and a ton better for our kiddos. Just a little food for thought.

Now I have to go make some food for tummies.

Beauty and the Breast

                                            (Here is an example of a milk coma in full effect)

I want to touch base on a million things. I have like 34 started blogs, but because I am the mother of a newborn and a seven year old. And also a significant other. I have not finished a fucking thing since January 19th of this year. Apparently, this is now the story of my life. So. While I have my littlest asleep in a BED and not on me or someone else for the first time since he has been born, I am going to QUICKLY share a little info about boobs. My boobs, more specifically.

With Bowen I did not breastfeed. When I first got pregnant, that was my plan. However, my 20 year old brain took over and I couldn't get past the fact that for the last however many years, my boobs had been a sexual tool. Not a tool for babies. So I opted out of breastfeeding. I got a lot of shit from those Les Leches League ladies about it, too. So much shit, in fact, that during my hospital stay and on my 19th visit from one of them, I yelled, "If you want him breastfed so badly, you whip a boob out and feed him." Plus side to that...they never came back. Now that I am older and a little wiser I realize that if breastfeeding is sexual, then a bottle is a dildo. How is that for a little perspective?

THIS time around I decided I was definitely going to breastfeed. Somewhere along my pregnancy I turned into this weird granola mommy and decided to, not only have an unmedicated birth, but that breast was best.

Here I am, 5 weeks in, and still on that breastfeeding bandwagon. And I am pretty proud of myself. There have been numerous times that I have thought I couldn't do it. Let me tell you why. Because like most things pregnancy and childbirth and newborn related...no one tells you the REAL truth. All I have ever heard was all of the amazing things about breastfeeding. And, honey, it is not all rainbows and sunshine and unicorns.

I read a million articles on HOW to breastfeed your baby. All of the different positions and the C hold and all that good shit. It all seemed pretty easy. Until I got my baby and decided to try to breastfeed. My nipples, all amazing and wonderful for my man's mouth, would not get hard for my baby's. So in labor and delivery the nurse threw me a nipple shield and sent me on my booby feeding way. I soon found out that there is a WAY to use the nipple shield. And I wasn't doing it. I figured it out and am somewhat of a nipple shield pro now. Thank Jesus. But let me tell you...nipple shields are a whole battle of their own. They are $10 a piece. They are these small, clear things...so when you lose one...they are lost for like ever. I think I have purchased six of them in 5 weeks. I am down to 2. Apparently nipple shields are like socks...they just vanish into the cracks of the house, never to return.

When my little man was in the hospital with me he was having some latching issues. In fact after a whole day of fixing his latch and him fussing for hours, the awesome lactation consultant came in with a bottle of glycerine water. She dripped a couple drops of this nectar of the gods onto my nipple and BAM...I had a perfectly latched baby. No one told me that was a quick fix. I cannot imagine what those three days before my milk came in would have been like without the ol' sugar water trick. I don't want to know. I choose to just live in the early depths of hell...not the deep, dark ones where those days would surely lie.

Another thing no one prepared me for was just how often and how long a breastfed baby eats. I recall nursing all day. Literally ALL DAY about three weeks in and sitting on the couch crying because I was exhausted, my nipples hurt, my shoulders hurt, and I had not one had a minute to myself without this little miracle screaming because he wanted to nurse. Come to find out...this is normal. And breastfed babies tend to nurse more. And there is a thing called cluster feeding. Never heard of it before then. But I know ALL about cluster feeding now. Sure would have been nice to be able to PREPARE for the hours upon hours of nipple use that would go on. But no one tells you about that.

Have you ever heard of the term 'niplash'? I hadn't until recently. Niplash is when a baby decides not to take a break from nursing and suddenly and energetically jerks his head around to look up, down, and all around the room. (Thank you Pinterest for that amazing definition) THIS is a real thing. And breastfeeding mama's should be told that niplash is a breastfeeding war wound. I had heard of mastitis and cracked/bleeding nipples. None of that sounded good...at all. But niplash...is it's own form of torture. I never knew nipples could twist and turn and bend and move like they can. I could not PREPARE (important word in this blog...because I feel if you could prep for the horrors and inconveniences to come you can manage them better) for niplash. Soon to be breastfeeding moms, you have been warned. You're welcome.

To go with the constant niplash I am getting, my son is a little baby shark. I even refer to him as baby shark. When he is really hungry...like I didn't automatically have a boob in his mouth...he attacks the boob. He moves his head from side to side and ATTACKS the boob like a shark attacking it's prey. It is funny, a little painful, and I have never seen anything like it before. I don't know if this is just my child or other babies, but the baby shark approach is something new to me.

A small, much less tragic, inconvenience of boob poppin' is the clothing issues. I seriously wear the same 4 or 5 things because they are the only tops that make breastfeeding possible. I don't want to sit around with my t-shirt up over both my boobs exposing the tummy I have not yet lost. So that means I am limited to tank tops. It is February.  See the inconvenience? Thankfully I have some jackets and cardigans. However, I wouldn't mind wearing one of my numerous pre-pregnancy cute shirts...but that will just have to wait. For now, even my clothing is dictated by a little dictator. Thank God he is cute...because he sure isn't letting his mom get her cute on.

I don't think anyone can make you understand how time consuming breastfeeding is. I am reassured (repeatedly) that once the first three months are over, it becomes a breeze. More scheduled and you can actually lead a more normal life. Right now, I am literally boobs out all the time like some Amazonian woman in a National Geographic. (Luckily my boobs look pretty decent still and aren't dragging to the ground or have four inch long nipples.) All day long I start a task and then immediately get called away by the shrill screams of a hungry kid. Once the kid latches, it is impossible to go anywhere. I can plan for WEEKS to go to a meeting on a certain day, but if he gets hungry right before the store, then I am stuck. And he would choose to have an hour long booby binge on that exact day. I have adapted somewhat...meaning I can do almost anything one handed. You know you're a mom when you can poop while breastfeeding your child. I mean, when you gotta go, you gotta go. In fact, my sister who I call almost daily for something boob related said she is going to write a book about all of the things you can do with one hand. She breastfed my niece and is currently breastfeeding my nephew. She is totally a saving grace for me. I would be lost without her during these trying times. I guess you can say we are breast friends. (See what I did there?)

The last little thing I will touch on is the glares/glances/stares you get when breastfeeding. At home I don't cover up. My older son knows what breastfeeding is and we didn't want to make it weird. When you have a kid with autism you have to be serious and tell the truth about all things, whether it be boobs or where babies come from (Funny story about that.) So we opted not to hide the boob. He was really curious at first, now it doesn't phase him. And more importantly, we wanted him to know breastfeeding is natural. Moms were built to do this, that is why dads can't. So the first time we all went to the store as a family, the baby got hungry. Of course, because it was inconvenient as fuck, so why wouldn't he? So I walk down an empty aisle, whip out a poop, nipple shield on, and let the little man latch. I threw a blanket over my shoulder and we went on our way. Bowen asks, "Why are you covering the baby's head when you breastfeed?" (Breast is pronounced breeest....like high emphasis on the e's...for good measure. Makes me laugh.) Which led to us explaining that SOME people find it offensive when a mommy breastfeeds or they don't want their little kids seeing someone else's boob. Bowen doesn't understand this at all...because it is natural. One lady hears our conversation and says, "I'd totally support you if you didn't cover him up!" However, she is one of the few. I have to go to Bowen's school to pick him up and always end up having to feed Ender while I am waiting. I sit in my car and feed him uncovered. Let's face it, even with milk my boobs are not that big, so no one is getting a glance at some BIG ol' knockers as they walk by (plus my windows are super tinted). When I have to go get Bowen I put a cover over the baby and we go on our way. Well even with the cover I get a lot of sideways glances. As if you can see through the cover. It is ridiculous. I haven't had anyone actually SAY anything to me, just a lot of shitty looks. I think secretly I am hoping someone says a negative word about it so I can tell them to go fuck themselves. But nothing has happened yet.

Baby shark is starting to stir and I am sure his lips are smacking in waiting for his next meal. Anyone who tries to tell you that breastfeeding is a breeze is full of shit. Feel free to tell them I said that, too. I wouldn't change it for the world. The benefits (like being almost back to pre-pregnancy weight at 5 weeks postpartum) clearly outweigh the pain in the ass factor. However, it is a battle and some days I feel a lot less like a warrior and more like a POW. Regardless, I guess I will keep calm and let him latch on.

Ramblings of Epic Proportions

One of the blessings...and curses...of living is that you learn something every day. Sometimes it is something small, like you can't put foil in the microwave, or something big, like how the smallest thing (be it words or actions) can stick with someone forever.

Today has been one of those days where I didn't sleep last night, which means I was thinking. A lot. And with my thinking comes reflecting on myself, my life, current situations, past situations, and everything in between. So last night has just continued over into today. And now I am realizing how much this affects my kiddos. Let me explain...

Throughout my life I have been told that when someone is being hateful or talking shit about me or being mean, that is doesn't say anything about me, but a lot about them. People who are negative and shitty towards another are often times just projecting how they feel about themselves onto another person. It really has nothing to do with YOU, but everything with how shitty they feel about themselves and where they are in life. Obviously, this is not ALWAYS the case...but often times it is.

Another good life lessons is, everything is relative. We all live different lives, have different views on situations, and think differently from one another. Thank God. Imagine how lame it would be if we all thought/felt/acted the same. But with that comes a shitload of misunderstanding, hurt feelings, and annoyance. I can tell you, when I was struggling with raising a kid alone in a state far from any family, working two jobs, coping with having a sick parent, dealing with an ex husband and a crazy/hectic relationship...I didn't really give two shits about some of the (what I perceived as...) petty shit people would talk to me about. Your biggest problem is whether or not to go on a date? Are you fucking kidding me? BUT. That was important to them. And thank goodness they didn't have to deal with the stress and anxiety and loneliness that was consuming me at the time. It is really easy to be all, "woe is me" and "I have it harder than you", when in reality, someone else is feeling the exact same way. We all just need to take a step back and understand that everything is relative. Just because we don't see something as important, to another person it may be a life changing situation. Perspective goes a long way.

Also, I read today that "we are not born with roots, we are born with feet, so we can move at any time". What a great gift to be able to change and grow. We are only human. We make mistakes. We do dumb shit. And that is part of life. The only REAL mistake we can make, is not working to better ourselves when we do aforementioned dumb shit. Every day is a day to grow and change. If you don't like something about your life, change it. There is ALWAYS something you can do. Don't like your job? Update your resume and start putting it out there. You might not find a new one right away, but you at least now have your foot in the door, instead of three blocks away. Not happy with how short your temper is? MAKE the decision to start counting to ten before speaking when you are mad, buy a self help book, join a group, get some counseling. It might be something tiny, but it can spark a whole new way of life.

I could go on and on and on with the little sayings and how they are relative to life, but I will spare you. Let's get into how this all affects the kids.

Once you have a kid, everything is about them. Everything. If we are in a shit mood, we can unintentionally take it out on our child. If we cuss in front of them, they'll probably end up cussing too. If we smoke/drink/do drugs, etc our kids will see it and think it is normal or ok. SCIENCE proves that shit, ya'll. Real life is not "Do as I say, not as I do". Real life means they see how we act and are as people, and inevitably take on some of those qualities.

Now no one is perfect. I am FAR from it. I cuss all the time. And my son has been known to let a word or two slip. I have a bad temper and yell, my kid yells. So yea, it sucks when they pick up on the negative shit we do...but we have the power to instill in them some seriously amazing positive things.

As mommy and daddy, we have to teach our kids that these bullies who make fun of them are probably insecure and that the problem is that kid. (And also intervene and take action when necessary) In fact, we should probably teach them some empathy for the mean kid. Maybe that little asshole really just needs a friend, or some positive reinforcement. We have the ability to teach our kids how to show compassion, even when it is hard.

A HUGE HUGE HUGE situation is the relativity. I cannot tell you how fucking annoyed I get when my son melts down over something little like making a 94 instead of a 100 on a test. It is still an A. THAT is something to be proud of. But to the kiddo that is a huge thing. He studied all week, knew the subject matter by heart, and then did less than perfect. (If you have an autistic gemini, this is some serious shit) So to us, it isn't a big deal, we are still proud, but to them it is a HUGE ordeal. Everything is relative. We may not understand how Amy saying she isn't friends with Suzy this week is grounds for a breakdown of epic proportions. But it isn't about us. It is about them. At some point that would have been a big deal to us too....remember that. It'll make your kid feel more loved and important and understood by you, which in turn, will help them come to you later about different/more important situations. (I read that in an article)

And finally...change. Change is good. Change is scary. Change is fucking hard. But we can all change. For better or for worse. I think that is such a wonderful thing to instill in our kids, that at any moment, we can decide to make a change and do something better with our lives. I can tell you, I have made a million changes in my life. And sometimes I failed, even when I had great intentions, but it was worth the lesson learned. Just because you fuck up, does not mean you are stuck there. Make the change and become better than you were the day before. My son had a meltdown of epic proportions last night and destroyed the lego train set he had been diligently working on for a week. I mean that shit is tore up. After his meltdown he was so upset that he did that. So I told him, it is ok, you made a mistake, and now we learn from it. Next time instead of wrecking your toys, go scream into a pillow or punch the couch. All we can do is realize we made a mistake and learn from it.

I am definitely not trying to be all Dr Phil. I fuck up with this whole parenting thing daily. However, I do know that as long as I am trying and working on myself, the good will come out in my parenting and in my child. Once we have kids, nothing is about us and every single thing we do will impact our child in one way or another. I have personally made it my goal to focus on taking care of myself and bettering myself this year (and every year after that). I know if I do that my parenting abilities will improve and my kid(s) will reap the benefits. I am going to screw it up some days and fall flat on my face at some point, but there will be those days when my kid gets it, sees the lesson in the struggle and it helps him.

My challenge to you...do something to improve yourself. Make a change for the better.

39 Weeks (One Day) And Counting

Apparently blogging every day is not possible. Here I thought we were this intriguing family...but really we are just three people getting on each other's nerves and repeating the same routines on the daily. (Routines are key in an autism house)

Right now our biggest excitement is #BabyWatch2015. Our new addition is due January 15th, but we have been told numerous times that it could be any minute now. However, after 3 fake outs, and the belly only continuing to grow and make me more uncomfortable, I have decided he will probably never come out. I know I am not even past due yet (like a gallon of milk or something), but this has literally been the longest pregnancy ever. I found out I was pregnant basically during conception and it feels like I have been knocked up for 58 months. Seriously.

Now don't get me wrong, I am beyond thrilled and happy that I am pregnant. I know that MANY women can't have babies. In fact, I wasn't supposed to have Bowen, let alone this one. So I am not taking my bulging belly and fertile Myrtle status for granted. But, I am definitely ready to have a baby in my arms...

We have been trying to naturally induce since about 36 weeks along. We did an ultrasound and the baby was all formed and perfect and just plumping up. Perfect time to try the old wives tales. (Except for castor oil. I tried that with my first one...and fuck that...never again.)

First I started taking evening primrose oil. I used to take it when I was working out and eating clean and looking all fantastic. (I miss the abs. And the ass. And all of it.) Anyways, so I took one in the morning and one in the evening. I know you can insert one in your lady bits and it will dissolve overnight...but it kind of weirded me out. So I opted not to do that. The point of the evening primrose oil is to start thinning out your cervix...two check ups since I started this and I am only dilated to a one and not thinned out enough to even mention. So fuck you primrose oil, fuck you.

Then, we decided to start trying good ol' adult time. I mean we obviously never quit that, but now we can REALLY get after it. Or so we thought. Then the Texas chainsaw massacre happened in our (brand new, white bedding covered) bed and we had to go to the hopsicle for excessive bleeding..and contractions. After 4 hours they sent me home only dilated to a one and the encouraging, "We will be seeing you soon!!!" That was like three fucking weeks ago. So now we maintain a loving bumping and grinding and hope that the combination of O's and baby batter persuade my uterus to start seriously contracting and my cervix to start opening.

I have tried doing jumping jacks numerous times. Especially if I am already cramping or having contractions. My best friend told me this works. Unfortunately, the only thing it has resulted in is a steady stream of pee running down my legs and me sweating more than I already do. So sexy, right?

Spicy food was also something someone mentioned. I am not willing to try a ghost pepper or anything serious because I don't want my ass to be on fire IF I did happen to go into labor...but I have eaten some spicy food. And I only got heartburn and indigestion.

One weekend (the weekend of the massacre actually) we tried adult time...AND walking around the mall two days in a row. We walked for hours. My feet got all swollen and my back got all sweaty. I was having contractions so I got all excited. And then they just quit. Like always. I still walk...some days more than others...and it never gets me very far. (labor wise that is..) SO walking...is not working either.

Anyone who has ever been pregnant remembers how uncomfortable and miserable those last few weeks are. The kid is in your ribs and their head is in your vag and arms and knees are poking and punching you. You pee ALL the time. Often times on yourself. You are hot. And hormonal. I mean...really fucking hormonal. It is just time, ya know? The kid needs to arrive. For the prego's sake...and everyone else's. Because if you hear, "You STILL haven't had that baby yet?" or "Oh hunny, you are about to pop!" or even worse, "You are HUUUUGE!!!!" one more time...you may go postal and shank every single person near you.

So here we are...39 weeks, one day along, and baby boy seems happy as a clam, with no interest in evacuating any time soon. I think he is going to pull a Bowen and arrive on the day he is due...but, I wouldn't be too surprised if he was stubborn and we had to be induced because he is late. IF that does end up being the case, I really like sea salt caramel gelato and Sonic ice. Just help a sister out, because she is only going to continue to cry more and more each day that passes and a baby doesn't show up.

Love Less Glamorous

We have been childless for a week and a half now (thank you Nana), so my blogging has not really picked up yet for lack of inspiration. It has been a very mellow week and a half. A very nice break, but not something we are accustomed to at all.

But have no fear...as my significant other snoozes in the other room and I await the call to find out what time I can pick up my little boy, I have had some time to ponder on...the unthinkable. Well...maybe not unthinkable, but certainly something we are not "supposed" to speak of. Adult time.

I am not here to write the next 50 Shades (thank sweet baby Jesus, because I was LESS than impressed by that book), but to talk about real life. Being a parent changes your naughty time. A lot. And, from what I hear, it can become quite the issue.


Timmy and I never really got the "normal" sexperience. I had a 6 year old when we met, so obviously things were a little different from the beginning. There was no chance we were going to come home from work and strip throughout the house only to end in an erotic shower scene. Nope. That has never happened. We have a child. And three weeks after moving in together we were knocked up...which also changes things.

No one really talks about the hilarious and, sometimes, disappointing parts of sex that comes with being a parent. No one likes to be at the peak of penetration, only to have their little one tell them from behind the locked door, that they threw up. Or shit on themselves. I figure, what the hell, let's lay it on the line...and laugh.

First of all...pregnancy really fucks shit up in the sexual arena.
*First trimester you are pukey and tired and emotional. There is nothing sexier than puking up your berry oatmeal for thirty minutes and then climbing back into bed and kissing on your man's neck. Except for the fact that there may be an oat or two stuck in your hair and you now smell like a sorority girl the morning after her first kegger. And let's be honest, you probably don't want to kiss on your man's neck. Or any other part of him for that matter. HE DID THIS TO YOU. So not only are you barfing everywhere, you are angry and sad and crying over the sheets not being cold enough, and you need to hibernate...forever. Sex in the first trimester (at least for us) was few and far between.
*Second trimester holds some redemption. Thank the fuck. I know with this pregnancy I suddenly went from a double A cup (which means you fit into a training bar in the little girl's section at Target) to a full B in just a few months. Hello you glorious, boobs, you. But they hurt...like a mother fucker... Regardless, you got something new for your man to look at...and sometimes...play with. And you aren't as big as a bus yet. You may be sporting a little belly, but you can still manage to get into all those positions that really work for you. You aren't as barfy all the time and you have a smidgen more energy. All in all, the second trimester is the peak of sexual activity (at least for me...obviously there are some of you freak of nature perfect pregnant women out there) but by the time you realize you should have taken more advantage of it, it'll be too late.
*Third trimester...ughhhhhh. You are a whale. Well. I am a whale. Sex has gotten awkward as fuck. There is obviously something in between you and your loving partner. And it is this HUGE, moving, entity... I know personally, I do not feel sexy at all. I feel like no matter what position I am in, Timmy is looking at my martha (my double chin), and my vagina used to be this cute little thing..now she has gained some pregnancy pounds as well. Plus my once NICE ass is jiggly and my thighs, once again, rub together. It is REALLY hard for me to feel like a little sex kitten given my physical appearance. Not only that, but for me, the good times have not only become awkward, but a little painful. So half of the time my dude ends up with blue balls...and the other half...he has to handle me like a china doll. Not ideal. And not only that, we somehow went from two positions working for us, to one. I haven't got to lovingly gaze into his eyes in three months. All he has seen is the back of my head. AND honestly, for him, that may be for the best. I am a sweaty, giant beast...that ain't tha business. And finally..third trimester means labor is imminent. One SUPPOSEDLY great way to naturally induce labor is doing the dirty. So sex goes from a fun thing, to a serious mission. Don't get me wrong, both of us hit the "peak" if you will, but there is no lying, it is not the same as pre-pregnancy bumping and grinding. And I apologize, my love, but I just want this child out of me. I promise...normal sex will resume in the next couple months.


Now, for those of you who are past the pregnancy sex (lucky you) and now have small children running around, it is a whole new ball game. It is no longer about 9 long, steamy innings, but more like a sprint to the finish line. But a sprint that is filled with obstacles. Finding a spot you won't be disturbed in. Being quiet. Ignoring the diapers and wipes and pee-pee teepees in sight. Getting it done quickly...but not too quickly. And then, playing it off when your kid asks what the hell you were doing.  (taking a nap, of course)

Usually you don't have an hour to warm up. At our house, we are usually very spur of the moment. The kid is deeply enthralled in a movie, he is at school and we happen to be home at the same time, those type of situations. SO you sneak off for a quick thrill. It is a rare time when you can actually spend the time exploring one another's bodies and kissing and touching and all those fun, passionate things you got to do pre-children. Not to downplay the quickie, as it can be some of the best, hottest sex ever, but it is different.

Or, when you are child free, you try to get all dirty and naughty like you used to, and you end up pushed up against the chore chart. Or your kid is finally asleep, it is relatively early, and you realize you are just too fucking tired to get it on. No shame. We have all been there. And that is what real life is like.

I will say this, on our last childless break for what I am sure will be a long while, we did have some time to get back to it. And, yes, it was awkward and limited due to this gigantic belly of mine, but it was also really, really great. SO...parents of the world...take it back to high school and do some making out. Feel each other up. And after the deed is done, lay in bed and talk. I can honestly say, it will make you remember what it was first like with your other half, and you may even appreciate them even more than you do already. A little nookie goes a long way.