Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Just around the Corner

Guys... guys... I'm going to be a mom. Two weeks from now it could happen at anytime and I'd be considered 'full term.'

I'm not freaking out. noooooo.
Ok so I'm totally freaking out a little.
Mostly because of how my life is going to shift. I'm afraid I'm going to fail at stuff, wifey stuff. My patience might die a horrible death. The dog might get really needy (I don't deal well with that). In laws that will suddenly feel more of a need to put their fingers in my life (so far they've been awesome, but there's this thing called 'baby rabies' and I fear this will infect them).
Everything is going to be just a little bit harder. Moving, travelling, shopping, getting ready, absolutely everything is going to be a little bit harder.

I don't even want to think about baby sitters and rates and money and school and, and... and!!! *deep breath*

It's not like I haven't LONGED for this day. There were times when we were trying to have kids that I broke down and cried because it wasn't happening. I really really want to be a parent. Maybe it's just because I haven't had really good sleep for a while now. Maybe it's just hormones. Who knows really? I just know I'm getting really nervous.

I'm also totally psyching myself out. There have been so many stories circulating around my groups of friends on the book of face about horrible things that happen just before, during, and after the baby finally arrives. I guess they're supposed to be inspirational stories or something. A 2 year old being struck by a car in a parking lot and dying, but the family totally forgives the driver and there's this weird happy ending scenario that I can't even remember because "Nooooo! not the baby!" *cries* Moms that have still births and how they overcome the grief. Horrifying stories of really bad OB's that do something stupid and kill a kid during birth or a C-section and that's why we need to over haul our medical care system or something. All in the last, month or so I think (I can't keep tabs on time), it's popped up and it's giving me nightmares and little panic attacks. *sigh*

It's going to be a change, regardless of what happens. No doubt my world will get spun on it's head. I'm told that it's an awesome adventure.

Till that day I'll try to keep my heart as calm as I can, because ~

Saturday, September 26, 2015

The Hogfather

I knew there was a fantasy world known as 'disk world.' Honestly, though, I'd never pursued the series. The first time I heard of it the name didn't catch my interest. 'Disk World' uh... that's great.... ummm... so I think I'll go read about Pern and the dragon riders now.

Well now I'm interested. All because of a little web comic.

According to the internet the author is adi-fitri from his tumblr of the same name. I couldn't verify. 
This scene is supposedly from the diskworld book 'Hogfather' and I am now incredibly interested in finding and reading this series. 

For those of you who don't know I kinda don't like Christmas and I have a slightly morbid sense of humor. So the idea of Death taking over Santa's duties while ol' Saint Nick is MIA tickles me greatly. Also I don't like how people overprotect children; they need to have age appropriate levels of responsibility and consequence. 

Now to find a good used book store. And remember my lovelies~

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Must be the Hormones

Science! It's wonderful, I love it! But sometimes it takes the magic right out of life. For one thing it makes love out to be a bunch of meaningless brain chemicals that alert us to a good DNA donor for the furtherment of the species. Bleh. Where are all the unicorns and roses?! I reject this!!! *laughs*

Other times it makes the intense reactions experienced by a pregnant woman a little more livable. What I'm crying, hard and loud sobs, over misplacing a book that needs to be found by tomorrow? This isn't like me, I'm usually way more rational than this. Must be the hormones! I love cheetos but they're full of hate and and give me the worst heartburn so I'm all depressed. Must be the Hormones! Exhausted? Hormones! Cranky? Hormones! Giggly? Hormones!
It's great to have a scapegoat that actually might be the reason you're acting so ridiculously.

Till next time my lovelies,
~The light heart lives long.

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Fighting a Losing Battle?

As with any season in life there are good days and there are bad days. Only during pregnancy it's been very different kinds of good and bad days.

I didn't really think of a good day as simply being able to get the dishes done. Because I didn't have this evil thing called 'sciatica.' Before my good days were getting more things crossed off my list than were added to it. Now my good days are getting any amount of anything done.
It's been a lot harder than I thought it would be.

Maybe the Almighty has given me this no so fun pregnancy to get me used to being "even worse" than I was before. I cannot keep my house Martha Steward tidy, I don't decorate, and most of the time I'm doing my best just to find permanent homes for our junk. But the house stays clean. The countertops get wiped down, the fridge gets cleaned out and sprayed down once a month, vacuuming kept the dog hair down a lot more than I thought it did, and the bathrooms were always clean.

Now I feel like I'm "losing a game of Jumanji" as it was so aptly said on a meme a friend shared on the book of face a while back. I don't know how long that basket of clothes has been on the love seat. There are little tribbles of dog fur in the corners of the house, and we'll not talk about how long it took me to get the sink clear. Things are buried under other things and I'm trying my best to help my husband with his homework, too.

I'm not being lazy. I don't think. I changed the sheets on the bed yesterday and came up huffing and puffing as if I'd jogged 2 miles. I did dishes today till my back hurt so badly I couldn't stand any longer and had to lay down, then I got back up and did more dishes. Towels got put in the wash machine and I don't know if I'll be able to get them back out and into the dryer. I bent over to pick up stuff off the coffee table and almost threw up so I sat down and made little piles of what should go where just so the entire surface isn't covered anymore.
It's really hard for me because I have this 'works based' thought process that was ground into my little skull by who knows who. Probably church people with good intentions, most likely my mother who struggled with that kind of stuff, which was passed to her by her mother. Regardless of why I'm this way, I am in fact this way. If I don't do enough, if I don't earn my way, my right to be alive is suspect. I cannot be a failure, it simply is not an option.

And I look around my house and that's what I see. I see failure on all the surfaces collecting 'stuff.' Failure in the carpet that desperately needs vacuumed. It's in the bathroom sinks that haven't been cleaned out in only god knows how long. The mess in the fridge mocks my right to stay at home instead of going and finding a job to help with finances. None of it is right. I know that, I know I'm doing what I can in my situation.

It just feels like I'm fighting a losing battle. People have told me "Oh it gets worse when the baby is born." So, I sit down and cry when that thought crosses my mind. It simply cannot get worse. There are really only two options. Hire a maid service or shift my perspective. We don't have the money for the first so I'll have to struggle with the second even more than I have to this point.

Now, I make lists of things that I have done that day, rather than looking around and getting overwhelmed by what needs to be done. I do what I can when I can. I let myself take naps. When I realize I can't do something that day, like say bending over without throwing up, I find things that don't involve that thing I can't do. Most of all I'm learning to give myself grace, to forgive myself for not being perfect or doing near enough to be a 'successful' Homemaker.

No, I'm not watching youtube all day or giving myself a free pass to do nothing. Psh! I'm just not beating myself up if I can't do much more than get up at 0500 to pack Jex's lunch, or crying in frustration because pregnancy brain won't let me remember hardly anything anymore. I do what I can that day, I do it and let that much be enough.
It's hard, it's so difficult. But it's the first step.

My need for 'earning' my value through what I get done isn't going to help my be a good mom to this baby. It's not going to help me deal with marriage issues that come with such a huge life change. Having an empty sink isn't going to make my life better. Cleaner, sure, but not necessarily better.

Letting go of that driving insanity (dude, anything that sends you into a downward spiral to the point that you cry yourself to sleep is bad for you, trust me) can only be good for my family. If I'm more content my husband will feel like he's doing a good job (which he totally is). If the chores mean less to me then babybell won't ever feel like s/he is just in the way (which I've felt as a kid and it was aweful). If I can be ok with simply getting done what I can that day, doing my best that day, then whatever gets done will be enough and by my twisted logic I will be enough.

Letting go of this will lighten my heart, and as we all know The Light Heart Lives Long.

Thursday, September 10, 2015

Babies aren't cute

Guys, I have a confession to make.

Babies aren't cute.

In the first few weeks of life, sometimes the first few months, I just see this squishy faced little glow worm. A little red human larva if you will. My brothers were squishy faced larva, my nephew (sorry Q you're cute now, but you were the froggiest newborn), I'm sure I'll look at my little bundle and think "oh your face is so... squishy. Don't worry, in 3 moths you'll be the cutest."

Very, very, few babies are born 'pretty.' But even then. Nope, brand new little humans just don't hit the cute button for me.

The best I can do is say "Oh he looks healthy." or "strong" or "ready for a nap." I don't find anything wrong with this. However I can clearly see that I am in the minority. Unless all ya'll are lying through your teeth when you tell a new mom her baby is 'adorable.' So, I feel this is yet another area where I fail as a woman.

Which brings me to an issue I'm not going to touch with a 30 foot pole.

So, moral of the story. If you don't follow a certain pattern of thought, it's probably not too bad of a thing. It may make you feel a little bad and 'off' somehow, but I'm sure if more people were more honest more often you'd find out that you're in good company. And most of that company is completely sane! Hahaha!
Or are we? *evil grin*

Till next time my lovelies,
The light heart lives long.