Just another day in [mommy's] paradise

My little house is quiet. Both babies are napping. I find myself with that illusive treasure - time - and suddenly, I'm not sure what to do with it. Last night was similar. Josh went to basketball practice at 8:30, Greta went to bed, Joseph was sleeping, I'd finished with my shower, and there it was again - more time. I puttered around the house, tried to read, tried to interest myself in Facebook, but nothing was working. I was (dare I say?) bored. So when Greta woke up and started talking to herself in her room, I picked her up, blankets and all, grabbed a book, cuddled with her in our bed, and read to her. I missed my kids!! When she tired out, Joseph was ready to play. So I changed him and spent the rest of the evening with him, exchanging googley eyes and gurgley noises. It was the best part of my day.

I suppose I shouldn't have been so broken up with both children decided to scream for an eternity of 2 minutes in the middle of Mass this afternoon. I've been taking them to 11am Mass at one of the local nursing homes. It's a perfect time to go - my chores are done, Greta is getting bored, Joseph should be resting, and it's still too early for lunch. Greta loves it. After I told her we were going to Mass, I soon found her crying in her room, frustrated because she couldn't carry Joseph's car seat out. Ahhh! Love those moments. Yet even with them, I feel ever so slightly like I'm going into battle as I walk through the doors of that very, very quiet chapel. It would be an ideal place to go to church because both the priest and the nursing home residents can't hear much, and the sisters who work there love the kids. But why, oh why, oh why does one toddler talking to herself all through Mass sound like a car alarm going off? And why, oh why does Joseph sound like he is nursing into a microphone? Because Greta, who is normally very silent around strangers, feels quite at home in God's house and won't shut up. Joseph, who hasn't looked twice at his boobs all morning, suddenly takes on the behavior of a starving child. All that said, I've managed to deal with it, even finding it humorous enough to laugh at. But today... somehow, both children yelling at once, in a very quiet place, made me feel absolutely alone and helpless. I stuck Joseph under one arm and dragged Greta into a conveniently-placed "workroom." If I had been more collected, I'm sure Greta would have quieted down, but instead, my state of tears reduced her to even further shrieks of dismay. By the end of the episode, I found myself sobbing about how much I hated God and why did He have to make everything so difficult. I know, pathetic. I'm reverting back to the "terrible two's" behavior of "hating" anything you can transfer blame to. "God, if you want me to be here, you'd better show me and quickly. Or we are not doing this again." I suppose that is the downside of believing  God is real. Sometimes it's hard to speak respectfully in a crisis.

Well, I guess He did want us there, crying children and all. After Mass, Sister Joseph came up to us and asked if we would like to see where Anna (my sister) worked. She took us to the residents' lunch room, where we visited for about half an hour. Joseph (of course!) was all smiles and giggles and everyone loved him. Greta was completely dead-pan, but at least she waved good bye to everyone. And Mommy? Mommy realized for the upteenth time that the best way to stop feeling sorry for yourself is to do something nice for other people. Everyone seemed happier for having seen the babies and yes, we are going to do this again.

Thank you!

To all the friends who wrote me or commented on my "What's a mother to do" post. Once again, I am amazed and humbled by the presence and kindnesses of so many friends... many of whom I haven't met, have never had a real conversation with, or haven't talked to in years. Thank you so much for your encouragement and good advice.

~Maria

Gardening!

We grew up in Ohio and every summer, we put in a garden. It consisted of thousands of tomatoes, a goodly number of peppers, mounds of zucchini, squash, pumpkins, and of course, lettuce and swiss chard. So I consider myself quite capable of gardening in the temperate soil of Ohio. However, this year I am making a tentative stab at gardening in the high altitude, desert climate of New Mexico. Boy, am I out of my element! All I know with certainty is that carrots grow well in sandy soil... but I'm not even sure what you call the soil type here. At any rate, we are going to build some little raised garden beds in the sunny backyard and water the heck out of everything.

I think that by early June it will be warm enough to put plants in outside, so today we started our seeds indoors. It was fun! Greta "helped" fill the little pots with potting soil until (thank God!) it was her nap time... during which time we actually put in the seeds. Now there is a cute little garden in front of my big living room window. God help those seeds because I'm only half sure of what I'm doing.

What's a mother to do?

For the most part, I'm a happy person. Sure, I have mood swings, but what woman isn't entitled to on occasion? And what are husbands for if not to comfort their wives, pick up the slack here n' there, get yelled for no good reason, and still offer a sturdy shoulder to cry on? But lately... ugh! I hate myself some days. I do the same damn chores over and over and OVER again, take care of the babies, make meals, try to be nice to Josh.... you get the picture. But I'm this awful combination of stressed out and bored off my ass. Stressed, because I always need to do something and am needed, and bored because it's the same thing over and over. I love my kids very much and I enjoy their company between the hours of 9am and 12 noon, and 2pm and about 5pm. But the other times! I vaguely remember what it was like to just have NO ONE making demands on my time and being able to go out and do things without bring my entourage with me. Being human, my vague recollection of the pre-baby days is overly romanticized. In my more realistic moments, I remember hating the drudgery of going to work and being accountable for things I didn't give a shit about. I also remember being very jealous of women who were "living the dream" of being stay at home moms with multiple kids.

So what's my problem? Ah, if only I could answer that. I wish sometimes that I were a different person. Perhaps one of those uber maternal types who like playing with kids all day long. Or one with a little less education. Being educated isn't always a good thing because you learn how to think and once you start thinking too much about your life, you're bound to find things that don't make you happy. Or you are able to analyze your discontent and are stuck with a problem that doesn't have an answer.

The thing is, I suspect there is an answer and that I already know it. I really ought to do something with myself. Like write that god-awful thesis of mine. It's about motherhood and I'm afraid that the current state of my hormones is going to turn it into a very negative look at the subject. I could get a job. But no job really interests me enough to motivate myself to take it and then deal with all the upset routines. Another solution is that I should probably work on my spiritual life. For those of you who don't know, I'm Catholic and I take my faith pretty seriously. I know from experience that part of being a balanced, peaceful person involves giving God priority in my life. I've thought of (and tried) to work on having a more regularized family prayer time. I'm trying to make myself read spiritual books... after all, how are you supposed to love God if you don't really know anything about Him? Sigh... all these things would be very good for me. Yet "the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak." If I have any quiet time, I end up vegging on the computer, sleeping, working out, or cleaning the house. There just aren't enough baby-free hours in a day. No one ever tells you how much energy it takes to be around your kids all day long.

I hate writing posts that pose problems but no solutions. I'm afraid that this will be one of those. The thought that keeps me going is that nothing lasts forever. The kids will get older, my health will get better, I'll have more energy, the weather will get warmer, summer will be here soon, and I will not always be this tired. But God! Just get me through the immediate future.

"Despicable Me" Movie

Last night I couldn't sleep for a long time (the Irish coffee I insisted on drinking at 7pm is to blame) so I "thunked out" a few blog posts. The fact that my family and I now quote Despicable Me to each other all day long has prompted me to let you know about this AWESOME movie! It's a kids' movie, but with enough witticisms and funny lines to please the grown ups. I'm not going to turn this into a spoiler, so watch it yourself. But it was hilarious! Steve Carrell outdid himself. In fact, his performance as "Gru" is in my opinion, his best. One of my favorite aspects of the movie is that it is simply fun without that obnoxious, sugar-coated, propagandizing undertone to it. Yes, I appreciate that the environment, gay tolerance, recycling, animal rights, homeschooling and world peace are all important in their own place, but please! Not in my movies. I hate feeling like I am subtly being lectured to during what is supposed to be a kid's movie. Ice Age was like that. Horton Hears a Who was another. The list could go on. It could be that I read too much into it. But after all, I'm an English major and my job is to dig up hidden messages and read into simple implications. Still, I like to credit movie producers with at least my level of intelligence. If I can pick up on something, then I'm inclined to think that it wasn't put there by accident.

Ok, that was a minor tirade. Point being, Despicable Me is just a really fun movie that I think most families could enjoy together.

Just an update

... to let ya'll know I'm alive and mostly well. Emphasis on "mostly." If that is even a word. We finally got hit again with our fair share of illness. I'm still getting over some mutant cold that has lasted three weeks now. THREE WEEKS! Of course, if I didn't insist on smoking through all of it, it might have gone away faster. But oh well.... In the battle between health and sanity, I always try to let sanity win out. You can care for children if you are sick, but you can't if you are crazy. And I've had more than my share of crazy days this month. Good God, what drama! We had to send my younger brother home to his parents because he was acting up again. That was an emotional ringer if ever there was one. Then my sister broke up with her fiance, who surprised us all with a visit at 1 o'clock in the morning. That was not pretty, to put it mildly. To top it off, because obviously family drama is not stressful enough, I got sick and a week later, both babies followed suit. Somewhere.... somewhere up there is a light at the end of this tunnel.

Well, this is me for the time being. Usually, I never have trouble coming up with a "topic" but that cold must have zapped a few brain cells because this is all I've got for the time being. Any ideas?

Exercise - My cure all for daily ills

I have been meaning to write this particular post forever! When I think about what I would like to share about my life that helps me and might help other people, exercising is the first thing that comes to mind. It's not easy to make time for it and motivate yourself to do it, but the benefits are Amazing.

It has taken me all this time to find a workout that is both feasible time-wise and at the same time, effective. Without hesitation, I highly recommend anything by Jillian Michaels. People will try to scare you away from doing her workouts. Don't let them! Sure, it's hard, but why would you want to waste precious, baby-free time on a workout that is easy and accomplishes nothing? If you are a beginner, or if you are just starting to do the JM workouts, the best DVD to start with is "The 30 Day Shred."

It is supposed to accompany a diet regiment, but the workouts are still good without the diet aspect. This DVD is broken down into 3 levels, each becoming increasingly harder. Each level is 20 minutes and includes a warm up, a cool down, and 3 sets of workouts. The first 3 minutes of the of each set are weight training (awesome for upper back, abs, shoulders, arms). The next 2 minutes are a cardio workout, and the last minute is an ab workout. Did I already say that the best part of the workout is that it takes 20 minutes... totally feasible during nap time or even while the kids are content and playing?

Another great workout DVD from JM is "No More Trouble Zones." This workout is 40 minutes long and is a strength training program. It is divided into sets of 5 minute circuits. The exercises are combine squats/lunges with arm and ab exercises. I love it because it's really hard, but doable because the intervals are so short. (Read: I don't get bored) This DVD is wonderful for total-body toning... which is why I loved it so much after having the babies. I did segments from this DVD pretty much up to the end of Joseph's pregnancy. Note: You don't want to do any workout that involves lunges after about 6 months of pregnancy because your hips are loosening and lunges will strain them. However, squats are very good to do during pregnancy as long as your OB will let you.

If cardio (think running/treadmills) is your thing, the "Banish Fat, Boost Metabolism" DVD is an incredible cardio workout. It follows the same 40 minute pattern as "No More Trouble Zones." The circuits are broken down into kick boxing, plyometric, and running-type exercises. There is also one segment that focuses on abs. The plyometric (jump training? lots of squatting and jumping) workouts are very effective for getting your heart rate up, breaking a sweat, and toning your legs like nothing else. I only do this workout twice a week and only when I feel energetic :)

Last, but not least, you need very little to do these workouts. I use either a 3 lb. or 5 lb. set of weights and an exercise mat. And of course, everyone needs a friendly toddler to sit on their stomach during the ab workouts. Make sure not to forget the toddler.

A couple things to keep in mind if you are pregnant or post-partum: I seriously do not recommend starting anything by JM if you are pregnant and if you have not done her workouts before. Also, even if you are accustomed to her workouts and are pregnant, I wouldn't do the "Banish Fat" DVD because there's too much jumping around for it to be safe.

If you are post-partum and looking for a good way to get back into shape, these DVDs are very effective.  However, keep in mind that your body needs time to heal. It's not advisable to start any kind of an exercise regiment until after 6 weeks post partum (longer if you had a C-section). As always, check with your midwife or doctor before starting to workout again. Another thing to keep in mind when working out after having a baby... if you are reasonably in shape before getting pregnant, your abdominal muscles will separate during the pregnancy to make room for the baby. These muscles will start reconnecting sometime after 6 weeks. You can tell when they're back together if you lay on your back and pull yourself up into a crunch. Place your finger directly above your belly button. If you can fit more than one finger in the space, your abs need more time to heal. If you start doing ab workouts (sit ups, crunches, etc.) before the abs reconnect, new muscles will form over the opening and your stomach will be wider than it was before you were pregnant. Long story short? Don't do crunches or sit ups until your ab muscles come back together.

Finally, do yourself a favor. If you really want to start a workout routine, pick something that you know you will enjoy and stick with. For example, I hate any workout that involves dancing or coordination. I'm just not coordinated. Yoga is too slow for me. I'm not a relaxed sort of person. If I'm not sweating and panting, I don't feel like I worked out. These DVDs are just my favorite... they might not be yours. If you are just starting to workout or haven't been that serious about it in the past or are new to JM, please, please start with "The 30 Day Shred." When you've mastered that one, move on to the other two.

Happy exercising :)

Using Veggies in Daily Meals

I'm just going to start this off by saying how much I love food. I mean, what's there not to love? It tastes good, it smells good, it keeps you from getting a headache, it quiets children, it keeps you alive... I could go on. But the point is, there are all sorts of food or things that pass as food. This may sound bad, but whenever I need to feel superior (read: whenever I feel like I am an ineffectual mother or wife), I go to the grocery store and as I'm checking out, I compare my shopping cart with that of the person in front of me. I'll leave the rest to your imagination.

Now I don't mean to bash folks who eat prepared foods, packaged foods, pop, cheezits, or whathaveyou. Maybe that's how they were raised. Or maybe that's all they have time for. Or maybe that's just how they roll. It's fine. But food is not something you want to mess with. I honestly believe that this country's chronic state of disease is due to our diet. However, I think that as much as people would like to eat healthily, they don't know how to. Another misconception people have is that healthy food is hard to prepare. In a culture of fast food and microwave meals, it sounds like a lot of work to chop veggies or bake chicken. The purpose of this post is to share my small attempt to feed my family in a healthy manner.

Veggies:
You know you probably don't eat enough of them. In fact, I doubt you could ever eat too many. (I say that because I don't really want to eat them because I don't really like to eat them). So here's a start. There are some vegetables that are pretty worthless when it comes to nutritional value. Iceburg lettuce and white mushrooms are two that come to mind. Why eat them if they don't do anything for you? Instead, buy those organic spring mixes or romaine lettuce.

Dark, leafy greens are very good for you, especially you women. High in iron and I can't remember what else, but take it from my mom... "They're good for you!" When buying them, here are a few thoughts. Swiss chard is yummy. Kale is yummy (or can be). Collards are decent. Mustard greens are nasty! I have not found a way to make those taste palatable. Spinach is good, too, but best in salads. The main problem with veggies, for me anyhow, is preparation time. To save time, what I do is buy a bunch of leafy greens once a week, take them home and wash them right away. Fill your sink with warm water and about half a cup of vinegar. Let them soak and then rinse. Put them in your dish tray to dry. When they are mostly dry, chop them into 1 inch slices. With kale and collards, I slice out the stem and then chop the leafy parts. Buy gallon size ziplock bags and fill them up with the greens. Refridgerate. They will last about one and a half weeks. To cook them, I simply put a few hand fulls into a large frying pan. Then I add olive oil, balsamic vinegar, salt and pepper. I cover the pan and let it steam on medium high until the greens turn bright green and shrink to about 1/4 of their normal size. With swiss chard, you might cook it longer to cook the stems. As for taste, let's just leave it at the fact that my husband eats them. :)

Nutritionists will tell you to eat "the rainbow of vegetables." Translate: eat a variety of different colored veggies. Along those lines, I add carrots, zucchini and yellow squash. These taste wonderful when stir-fried with onions and garlic. These also can be washed and chopped ahead of time and refridgerated for over a week.

Both onions and garlic have wonderful immune-system boosting effects. They also make any dish taste and smell good. (Maybe not desserts, however.) Add them to any dinner dish and you won't regret it (unless you eat garlic and your hubbie opts out... that could be problematic).

Squashes - butternut and acorn - are also very good for you. They're very easy to prepare and my 20 month old daughter loves them. If you want to keep your meals on the lower-carb end, they are a great way to eat healthy carbs. For both, I wash the skins, then split them open and scoop out the seeds. Then I put them in a greased (olive oil) casserole dish with the bowl of the squash facing up. I put a dab of butter or coconut oil in the center, then sprinkle some salt, cinnamon and nutmeg. Bake this in the oven at 350 for about 45 minutes, or until they are soft and yum! You can also fill the squash with apple sauce, or chopped apples and cranberries.

What this all boils down to is that I don't like spending all day preparing a meal. I like to start about half an hour before we eat (an hour for dinner). If you prewash and chop your veggies, you can incorporate vegetables into all meals, cook time being about 10 minutes. It's amazing what salt, pepper, oil and vinegar will do.

You have to pick your battles

Looking back from my vintage old age of 25 years, I realize that I had a lot of unidentified ideals in my younger days. Very few had to do with a husband, which seems to be common among most ladies. No, mine had to do with children. I always knew I was going to have kids... a husband as well, presumably. These kids of mine were quite the bunch! To begin with, they were very well-behaved. They acted as my siblings and I had to act in church for fear of my Dad. Which was very well-behaved. We never left church without someone commenting on what good kids we were. They never hit other kids, were always polite to adults, were interesting, intelligent, and most of all, helpful to their mother. I can still see it... all eight or ten of these imaginary children helped out with the house work and the farm chores while their benevolent mother oversaw it all and nursed the latest installment. They always did as they were asked and never said "no." These wonderful children lived in a clean house. Everything was always where it was supposed to go. The good children always put their toys away, always cleaned up after themselves, and their mother moved through her days in peace and tranquility. My imaginary children never put their mother through what my 5 siblings and I put our long-suffering mother through. She hounded us all day to finish our chores, threatened us with "no play time!" if we didn't, and despite her best efforts, our house was far from tidy on most days.

Needless to say, my imaginary children are something a thing of the past now that I have actual children. My actual children... now that is another story! I learned very early on that children love to do what you are doing. Greta is happiest when she is rearranging my pantry, meticulously moving canned goods from the pantry to the shelf under the table. Her day is not complete if she has not taken out all the pots and pans and inspected their lack of contents. The tupperware is not exempt, either. Who, if not Greta, would match them with their lids? The bookshelf is another thing of joy for Greta. She delights in "reading" books, but not as much in returning them to the shelf. Yet her greatest pleasure lies in emptying dresser drawers. Really, such an undertaking is one that my imaginary children would never have dreamed of! Oh no, those angels would have been putting their clothes neatly in the drawers. Greta, on the other hand, can spend an entire morning "organizing" her clothes. It's actually quite impressive to watch her dress her dolls in them.

So Mommy has learned to adapt. I never bother to fold Greta's clothes and make only the loosest attempt at organizing them. Dresses in the top drawer, pants and jammies in the next one, and shirts and sweaters on the bottom. Nor need you look for order in any of the lower drawers in the kitchen. There is one for "pots," one for "containers," and one for bowls. But no tidy stacks of variating sizes for us. What is the point?

Obedience is another place where my ideals led me astray. Surprise, surprise! Greta loves to say "no!" Sometimes, it's a sweet, cajoling kind of "no." At other times, it is very firmly and definitively "no!" Either way, you get the point. Again, Mommy is wizening up. When Greta does something now that she isn't supposed to do - for example, poke eyes - I give her something positive to do, such as "point to your ears, Greta." This distracts her from poking her eyes and has the added benefit of preventing her from telling me "no." This has about a 70% success rate.

At any rate, I think that the most important thing that I've learned about children since having my own is that all children are naughty and messy and disobedient at some point. Following from that, I am learning to temper my hasty judgments about other people's children. Discipline is a lot of work. I have yet to learn how to put Greta in her crib (her "time out" place) and nurse Joseph at the same time. Don't they say something about effective discipline being quick in order to be effective? Well, try waiting to finish nursing before disciplining your toddler. If I was the proverbial fly on the wall, I would be laughing at myself.

Now for a happy post

So now that I got the complaining out of my system for the time being, let's talk about something pleasant. Like... my kids.

They are really awesome. No two ways about that. Greta is now 20 months and as much the baby joy as ever. She is such a sociable girl. She knows a few words in English, but what she lacks in English grammar she makes up in her own language. If only I could speak it! All day long, she keeps very busy. If it is possible, she is busier than her mother. She has a whole dresser of her clothes that needs emptied, and then there are the drawers belonging to Joseph and Mommy that need attention. Then there is the dishwasher that requires her skills in emptying. From there, she usually moves on to the pots and pans and tupperware. Last but not least, she has a baby to care for. Baby Jesus made his entry into our home around Christmas, and despite my efforts, is here to stay. Baby Jesus is very much in the flesh around here. He is a foot long, resin Christ child from a church's manger scene. My mother in law bought him and sent him to us. He has a nice little manger to sleep in, and until Greta came along, he usually stayed there. But Greta has since adopted Baby Jesus as her baby. I mean, really! If Mommy gets to have a baby, why shouldn't Greta? Kids normally get tired of toys after a few days... a week is tops for Greta. But Baby Jesus is here to stay. When I tried to pack him up with the other decorations, Greta threw a fit and desperately tried to rescue her infant from the box of garlands. It's been about 2 months now and Greta faithfully tends her baby every day. He gets burped quite often, and he is usually wrapped in a blanket of Joseph's that Greta has commandeered. He even gets his diapers changed. I love it!

Now Joseph is another story. When I had Greta, I thought she was an easy child. I have since found out that I was wrong. Joseph is waaaaaaaay easier! He really is the most contented and contentable soul I have ever encountered. He sleeps well, eats well, and smiles. I adore a baby smile. His smiles aren't just constipation grins. No, they are all out chuckles when Mommy or Daddy smile at him. I'm finding out, however, that he strongly believes in a time and place for everything. Namely, that he should be in bed, with Mommy, and nursing at 10 pm., not in his car seat, under a table at a Rotary dinner function. Hell no! He is very clear about letting his mother know that this is not acceptable. And mother is learning very quickly. Dear Joseph....

And the two of them together? Ahhhh! Warms my heart every time. Greta adores Joseph. She must kiss him every morning and every time she sees Mommy nursing him on the couch. If he cries, she looks worried and checks on him. If he's in his swing, she will stop his swing and inspect. My favorite was when Joseph was crying in my arms and Greta heard him. She then went to find his burp cloth and brought it to me. I almost cried :) They are such wonderful babies.

What am I doing here??

Ever find yourself asking that? I do, especially when Josh and I go out for any quasi-social event. Whenever we do this, I am very forcibly reminded that I am a mother. Life is really easy until you have children. Don't get me wrong... I wanted children very much and I dearly love said children. However, children are a lot of work! And they definitely put a crimp in one's social life. I think I am still in the "adjusting" part of life right now. I'm still too close to the time when it was all in a day's work to pick up and go out for an evening with friends, or to have friends over for after-dinner drinks. We thought nothing of it. Now... Good lord! It is a veritable circus to simply get out of the house and into the car. Going out with friends involves enough planning and strategizing to fill an instructional manual. And dressing up for and attending the annual Rotary dinner... I remain unconvinced that there is anything attractive or stylish that one can wear to nurse in. And what is the point of listening to a speaker when you have a whining infant in your arms?

Get the jist? Yes, I'm complaining again. It sounds bad to say that I'm sick of my children... because that isn't the problem. I'm sick of being tired and grouchy, of never catching up, of never feeling like I'm doing a good job, of constantly "adjusting." I hate adjusting. I wish this mothering business would simply figure itself out.

Here's the thought that keeps me going on the average day.

"What is my job in life right now?"
"To take care of my children and love my husband."
"Have I taken care of my children today? Are they healthy, fed, and happy?"
"Does my husband know I love him and most importantly, appreciate him?"

If I can answer yes to the last two questions, then I have done my job. I personally may not feel like I did it well, but my own feelings of success or failure are independent of whether or not I've actually done what I'm supposed to do in a given day. Of course, it's nice to have the satisfaction of feeling good about your job, but it doesn't always happen that way. I personally thrive off of affirmation and that warm, fuzzy feeling of  "a good well done." But there are good days and bad days and blah days. These feelings won't last. No child stays 2 months old forever, nor are rashes on a toddler life-threatening. Now if only it could be spring....

Cold Coffee Days

I have been trying to write this post for about three days. The only reason I remember it is because I liked my title. By "cold coffee" I'm not talking about that delicious beverage known to mankind as an iced latte, the perfect treat on a warm summer day. No, I'm referring to the unpleasant sensation of putting your lips in a cup of coffee that you have been carrying around all morning, only to find that the delectable, steamy coffee has transformed into something lukewarm and - to this coffee snob - nauseating. This now seems to happen to me every morning and it is not the most enjoyable way of starting one's day.

So back in time, when I had the leisure and the income to be a coffee snob, nothing would do in the morning but to start it off with freshly ground coffee made impeccably in my French press. My friend Megan and I would meet up in the kitchen at work, fill up the coffee cups, and smuggle the coffee-goodness back to our desks... and enjoy! The afternoon wasn't a proper afternoon if we didn't bring a cappucino or latte back from lunch. Josh and I might wind down our evenings with another cup of (properly made) decaf after dinner with dessert.

Are you gathering from this that I LOVE COFFEE? Because if you haven't yet, you should hone up on your reading comprehension skills. :)

Fast forward a few years and a few babies. I roll out of bed to the sound of Joseph crying and Greta chattering. My eyes are dry and bleary from being up 2 too many times last night. My clothes are damp and sticky from nursing in bed (you have to be a nursing mom to appreciate quite how nasty this feeling is). All I want it... silence and a cup of coffee. So begins the battle to reach that happy shore. I change Joseph's diapers, change his clothes, wash my face, change my clothes (showers come later)... all the while fending Greta off from my new dresser drawers. She is enamored with removing clothes from people's drawers and relocating them in various corners of the house. At this point, it becomes "mommy over baby." Joseph cries in his swing while I stumble into my messy kitchen (messy because El Husbandito made Greta breakfast and didn't clean up) and yes! start on the coffee. Then Joseph is rescued from his swing and nursed before his milk supply becomes contaminated with caffeine. Back to the swing with Joseph and off to the kitchen goes Mommy. But Greta apprehends the maneuver. She waylays Mommy and demands... never mind what she demands, but she demands in no uncertain terms. Mommy buys her off with a cheese stick or half a slice of bread. Ideally, Mommy would have politely offered her a carrot or a slice of cucumber, but "desperate times call for desperate measures." There will be no day without that illusive cup of coffee!  Ahhhh! Pour the half and half into the coffee cup, fill a bowl with cereal and milk, and run for it! Problem is, there is no place to hide from babies, so Mommy opts for the next best option. The kitchen table will at least guarantee that there will be no spills when Greta comes demanding her lion's portion. Which she does. Greta has an incredible ability to sniff out carbohydrates. And what is cereal but carbs? Believing that discretion is the better part of valor, Mommy agrees to share her breakfast with Greta. Just not the coffee. Please not the coffee, Greta!

At this thrilling junction, Joseph makes his presence felt with a few heart-rending screams. How can one selfishly eat breakfast when one's child is starving to death not 3 feet away? Now we are back to nursing Joseph and feeding Greta. And that dear cup of coffee is just sitting there, steaming its coffee life away. Joseph is asleep again. Quick! Put the laundry in before he wakes up. Empty the dishwasher and fill it up again because Lord knows that is complicated with a babe in arms. Where did I leave the coffee? Oh no... Greta has put her finger under a pot lid and is pushing down on it with her other hand... and screaming because it hurts. I rescue Greta and reintroduce her to the magic of her bookcase. Crap. Where did all this dirt on the floors come from? Better sweep it before Joseph wakes up. Time to switch over the laundry.

By now it is 11 am and my vagabond coffee cup has traveled the range of our house. The house is relatively in order, the babies are in order, and silence? Yes, I think I hear silence. Silence and a cup of coffee. That's what I was aiming for this morning. For the record, "silence" means "the absence of unhappy noises." I sit down at the computer, put that coffee to my mouth... ugh! cold coffee already?!?!

But on the bright side, the babies are peaceful and the house is tidy. You have to pick your battles.

Brothers and Sisters

Sitting here in front of the computer with Greta on my lap has suggested the topic of the Greta-Joseph dynamic. Simply put, it has been awesome. Greta looked at Joseph rather sceptically at first, but she warmed up to the idea of "baby!" very quickly. She loves to give him hugs and kisses and pats and pokes and... you get the idea. So much in fact, that she was responsible for Joseph's first bout of pink eye at 3 weeks of age. But it was so hard to keep her away from him because she would cry like a tormented soul if she was not allowed to kiss "baby."

Joseph is 6 weeks old today. Yay for Mommy and Daddy! It's been a long haul, but hopefully it will keep looking up.

One month survival skills

I've never been one of those people who can write well when there is a lot of noise in the background. Particularly music. I like music with a beat in its place - as when I'm cleaning house, playing with babies, anything that involves motivation. But for studying, focusing, I need quiet or relaxing, classical music. Unfortunately, neither of my kids care for classical music. It's not from lack of hearing it. I religiously listened to Mozart, Handel, et al. during their pregnancies. But to no avail. Greta was almost guaranteed to fall asleep in the car if we put rap on the radio. And Joseph is following suit. Right now, Greta is in bed, the boys are downstairs playing COD, and Joseph is in his swing. Here I am, trying my best to focus and writing something slightly intelligible. But at a cost. The only way I can get Joseph to lay quietly in his swing is to play my Celtic Rock station on Pandora. Not in a mute undertone. Oh no, he wants to listen to the lyrics. If all of a sudden, I start writing the random lyrics to "Black and Tans," you are forewarned. 

As I've assured myself numerous times in the past month, Joseph is the best part of this whole birth thing. What a crazy, stressful, trying month! It isn't right to call the month in which Christmas falls "a month out of hell," but that is sure what it's felt like. Mother in law drama, coupled with extremely cold weather, baby blues, visiting family, the holidays, and unending rounds of sickness have me completely wiped out. But I think, I really, really think that we are getting to the end of the tunnel (not the end of the rope). Everyone has gone home who does not belong here. The babies are over their colds. I'm not sick anymore. My brother, Daniel, has started school here in Gallup. He'll be living with us for the next semester. He's settling in well. Josh loves having the excuse to buy an Xbox and play Call of Duty "to entertain Daniel, Maria!" Oh geesh.

There was supposed to be a theme to this post, but as I go along, I'm finding that there isn't. And it's a pity, because I sit in bed ALL THE TIME nursing Joseph and writing awesome posts in my head. The problem is that once I sit down to write, I begin to suffer from major writer's block. I was going to write about baby blues, but I'm feeling good tonight and that seems very far away. I will say that we are NEVER going to have sex again during the months of April, May or June because I NEVER want to have a baby in the winter. I'm going stir crazy being in the house all the time and dealing with colds. But I have a tentative solution. I'm going to start working on my thesis again and leaving the house after dinner to do it. I'm going to make dinner, have dinner with the family, then pack up my computer and scoot over to Camille's and write for an hour. The boys can handle the babies that long, right? I hope so.

Joseph doesn't like Flogging Molly, so I have to cut short this riveting post.

Joseph Brian's birth

Well, friends, here is a tentative stab at writing out Joseph's birth story, exactly 2 weeks to the wonderful day he was born. I preface this with "tentative" because for one, I am bound to be interrupted in the near future, and two, I'm not all quite mentally back yet which may cause the written element of this narration to be a bit shoddy. So here goes....

In order appreciate just how incredible this birth was, you have to first understand that this pregnancy was pretty hellish for me. Another stronger soul might not have found family drama, four plane flights, buying a house, remodeling a house, moving into a semi-habitable house, high blood pressure, and bedrest to be "much" but I did. And the funny thing was that it was the bedrest that broke the proverbial camel's back. After all that activity, one would think that 2 weeks in bed would be a much appreciated change. Not for yours truly. Having to lay around and watch my stomach move, while my mother-in-law watched Greta, and I watched Greta get everything she wanted was not easy. I hope to goodness never to relive that experience. It was among the most difficult situations - emotionally - that I have ever been in. But like all good - or bad - things, it came to an end.

December 3rd found me at Mom's group in the morning. Greta and I needed the diversion. Then Josh and I drove the two cars to Albuquerque, 2 hours away. Josh was selling the Subaru and I was going to my midwife visit there. My midwife and I had something of a showdown about my bedrest. She didn't think I was taking it seriously and I was just ready to shoot myself and go home... or something along those lines. Long story short, we got back to happy terms, which was a good thing because who wants to be pissed off with someone who is attending their birth? Not I! Then we noted that I was about 3 centimeters dilated and contracting every 5 minutes or so. Note to self, Joseph Brian does not like confrontation. We decided to watch and wait. So I wrapped up my appointment and found my way across town to the car dealership where I met up with Josh and we had dinner at Carl's Jr. Then we went back to the dealership and signed our car away. I have never seen a car sold so quickly... Josh informed the lady attending us that his wife was having contractions 5 minutes apart and that we needed to get home to Gallup for our homebirth. She was most understanding. My favorite part of that evening was preparing and using the Hibiclens douche in the bathroom of the car dealership. Hey, if I was going to have that baby in the car on the way back, I wanted to be sure he didn't catch GBS on the way out! That didn't happen. Instead, we had a nice, relaxing ride home, said the Rosary, napped (I did, Josh drove), and arrived home at about 9pm.

At some point, we went to bed. Enough said about that. We slept very soundly until about 4:20am, when I felt my water break. Explode would be more like it. I jumped up and informed Josh that it's "baby time." I trundled off to the bathroom and made use of my "birthing chair" aka toilet seat, while Josh set up the birthing pool. Someone should give me a prize for calmness. It seemed to me eons that Josh took to set up the pool, while during contractions, I really wanted to hold on to him. Problem was that I couldn't talk when the contractions were starting. So we rigged up a nice system. I banged on the sink and he came back into the bathroom when the contractions came. In retrospective, it still makes me laugh. Oh, somewhere about then, we called our midwife and she began the 2 and a half hour trek from Rio Rancho.

The contractions got harder and more painful. Finally, the pool was set up and I eased inside the warm water. It was really incredible. The warm water literally cut the pain in half. For awhile, maybe about half an hour? I lost track of time... I had a hard time with the contractions. I remember moaning and groaning a lot. It got pretty difficult. Then something magical happened... at least it felt magical to me. And believe me, to feel pain-free without drugs during labor is nothing sort of magical to the party involved! I had read and studied all about the Bradley method of relaxation during labor, of breathing, association/disassociation, etc. However, I never really had a chance to try it because Greta's birth was too fast. This time, however, something clicked and I found myself breathing through each contraction and not feeling anything. It was surreal. During the last half hour or so of contractions, I found that if I stayed completely still, if everything around me was completely quiet, and if I breathed deeply through my stomach and held my breath for a short period at the peak of the contraction, I didn't feel anything. But the craziest thing about it was that in between contractions, I found myself falling asleep until I scared myself with the vision of falling asleep and drowning in the birth pool. Not even Josh would save me because he, too, had fallen asleep in the rocking chair next to the pool.

Then there came a point when I knew the baby was coming soon. Not sure how, but I just knew it. Josh texted our midwife and she was 15 miles outside of Gallup. "Alright," said Maria to herself, "let's have this baby." And so we did. The contractions got harder. I hit "transition"... the time in labor that the Bradley method identifies by the "emotional signpost" of a feeling of "not being able to do it anymore." And it's so true! I remember screaming something about "God help me... I can't do this..." and thinking at the same time, "Hmmmm... this is transition. That means the baby will be here soon." Just knowing exactly what was happening and having an idea of how much longer I had to go made the last stage so much easier. I wasn't afraid of the pain because I knew what was going on.

**************

Silence and peace pervade my house at the moment. It's a week since I started writing. Since then, my brother and sister have come out to visit, Joseph was baptized, Christmas came and went, Mom went home, and I am attempted to rediscover home life and a routine with a new baby. Right now, the babies are asleep and I am relaxing with a cup of coffee and Baileys... and taking a stab at finishing this blog post.

So where did I leave off? Oh yes, the pain of labor. So I began to transition. It didn't last long. I remember yelling a lot and then, things suddenly quieted down. I began to push, but between pushing, I was almost normal. The midwife came in, but I was too "far gone" at that point to pay much attention. Joseph was going to be there any minute. I got into a squatting position in the birth pool and had Josh support me under my arms. I looked up at my window and saw that the dawn was coming in. It was a good time to have a baby. Besides, Greta wasn't up yet, but it was close to 7am and I knew she would be soon. My midwife told me to take little, short breaths while I was pushing, but I couldn't! Joseph was so close, I could almost hold him, so when the next contraction came, I just hauled off, yelled for all I was worth, and out he popped. Jules fished him out of the water and there he was... my little son. He instantly opened his eyes, looked right at me, and let out a loud, strong wail. Then he was quiet as I held him to me. It was 7:02am, December 4th, Saturday.

It was a magical moment. I remember that when I first saw Greta, my feeling was one of shock, amazement and fear. I couldn't believe she was there... I really wasn't expecting her 3 weeks early. But with Joseph, it was love at first sight. I had waited so long to have him. I felt so much more prepared and ready for him. And looking at him for the first time, all the earlier stress and suffering from the pregnancy seemed to melt away. He was so beautiful and so dear.

As it was with Greta's birth, the rest of the experience is blurry. I pushed out the placenta, which Jules dried out and put into capsule form for me to take later (because "it's GOOD for you!"). Josh, Joseph and I cuddled in bed. Joseph took to nursing instantly, another point in his favor. Greta was an awful nurser in the beginning. It was just lovely to lie there in my own bed, with my dear husband and our new baby, relaxing, watching the day break, and resting in the satisfying glow of a job well-done. Soon Mom brought Greta in, who looked with confusion on her little brother. As with Greta's birth, one of my favorite moments was when they brought me breakfast. For the record, I will go through labor just for the awesome breakfast that follows. A cinnamon roll and coffee always has to be part of that breakfast!

I felt wonderful that day. I didn't tear at all, and I spend the day relaxing with the babies and husband. That evening, Fr. Kellar came over to bless our house... I had promised myself and Joseph that we would have the house blessed as soon as possible. Since it had taken so much trouble to schedule the house blessing through the parish office, I wasn't about to cancel it on account of having a baby. So we made a pasta dinner that night and visited with Fr. Kellar.

And that's how it was. I'm sorry if my unabashed endorsement of homebirths, natural births, water births, and the like have offended anyone. I know it isn't for everyone and that everyone's birth is its own miracle. But I can only tell it how it was and as Josh put it, it was such a peaceful experience all 'round. My brain is starting to peter out, so ciao for now.

Day 1. Greta and her baby

Day 1. Little sleeper!

Day 1. Still on a baby-high

Day 1. I love that Josh looks more exhausted than either Jos or I!

The infamous waiting game

I would give a lot right now to write a warm and fuzzy post about how beautiful pregnancy is, how womanly and fulfilled I feel when I'm pregnant, what a wonderful thing it is to bring a new life into the world. Maybe all of the above is true in theory, but subjectively (that means, for me personally, right here, right now), that is all one great big pile of whooey.

Believe it or not, my friends, pregnancy (mine, anyhow) SUCKS. Maybe there is something after all to the Garden of Eden and childbirth/bearing the punishment for Eve's sin. I sure as heck feel like I'm being punished right now for every single wrongdoing I've committed since age 7. And that's a lot.

What makes it almost worse is the simple fact that objectively, I'm really not that badly off. In fact, I'm practically rolling in clover. I have high blood pressure. Which means I get to stay in bed most of the day, sleep, read books, and feel safe in the knowledge that my mom in law is taking excellent care of Greta right outside my bedroom door. I have the world's most kind and sympathetic husband who puts up with my whining, crying, complaining and complete mood swings. I'm not even as huge as I feel on most days. And I'm only 38 weeks pregnant. I'm not even overdue yet. You would think that having the ability to acknowledge my blessings would alter my mindset. But that's the rub! It doesn't. It makes it harder to admit what a wimp I am when this isn't even a hard pregnancy when compared with what other women suffer through. I honestly have nothing to complain about when I talk to some of my friends about their pregnancies.

I think what I'm supposed to get out of this situation is that 1) Maria is a horribly impatient person, and 2) Maria is being given the opportunity to grow in the virtue of patience, something she would not willing do on her own. This is very true of me. I'm the sort of person who will expedite shipping for an extra $20 rather than wait a week for something with free shipping. God is wise. He knows us best and knows what we need in order to become better people. It's interesting to think that you can assess a person's faults and virtues by looking at what they struggle with in life. What this whole experience does for me, though, is it makes me appreciate how very small my capacity for suffering is. If simply waiting in bed to have a baby is sheer torture for me... wow. What does that say about me personally?

You know, I'm to the point where I can't even imagine having this baby anymore. I really do feel like I will be pregnant forever with this same child. For awhile, I was so excited about giving birth. Now, I honestly can't see past tomorrow... and tomorrow... and the next day.... Actually holding this baby seems as imaginary and fanciful as dreaming about a wedding at age 16. God help me hold on to what little sanity I have left.

Waiting, waiting, waiting...

Well, the long and short of it is that I am bored out of mind. These last weeks of pregnancy haven't been fun. Actually, this whole pregnancy hasn't exactly been a barrel of monkeys, but unless you are one of those incredible women who enjoy being pregnant, what pregnancy is? But lately... ugh! At least I didn't have anything to worry about health-wise earlier. However, since I came back from Florida, I've had high blood pressure, low red blood cell count, low sugar, tested positive for GBS... nothing exactly uncommon, life-threatening, or terribly serious, but all added together, definitely an annoyance in the extreme. But on the bright side, the baby seems fine. So it could always be worse, right? Keep reminding me that as these days drag interminably on. At first, I was freaking out because I was worried about having the baby before 36 weeks. Now that I've hit the magic 37 week marker, I want very much for him to be out. My midwife is taking it all in stride. The high protein diet she put me on, plus the assortment of "calming" herbs and teas are really working to lower that pesky blood pressure. I blame Gallup, again. I'm telling you, this place is slowly trying to kill me. Little girls from the cloudy midwest states were not meant to live 6,500 feet up in the air, where they can't breath and where their blood count drops deplorably. Because I don't have any of the other typical indications of preeclampsia or toximia, I'm blaming the high blood pressure on the high altitude and Greta. Kids are ones for getting your blood pressure up and keeping it there. The worst part of it all is that as of Sunday, I'm on "bedrest." Hearing that was like receiving a death sentence... for me, anyways. I am happiest when I am up, busy, doing chores, keeping things in order, and relaxing when everything is together. Thankfully, the herb supplements have been working to the point where my blood pressure stays low enough that I can get up, take care of most things around the house, go for walks.... the principle difference is that my mother in law is here to keep on eye on Greta most of the day. That is a huge help! I miss Greta, but this works out perfectly because I've also hit the point in pregnancy where I am tired-off-my-ass most of the time and it takes the biggest act of will to move anywhere, especially in the evening.

I apologize that this is such a sucky post. I am just absurdly tired, wallowing in self-pity, anxious, impatient.... God help me! And if I'm not pathetic enough already, I really wish my MIL would go to bed so I can spend some alone time with my husband, who I haven't seen all day. There. That is the pettiest thing imaginable to say at the moment, but whatever.

You can come anytime now, baby dear. Bring on the labor pains, the sleepless nights, the crying, the nursing, the baby blues... at least I won't feel like the girl who turned into a blueberry in Willy Wonka.

What are friends?

I'm dedicating this post to all my friends, but especially the ones I've come to know better through that artificial medium - Facebook. These days, there is a lot of bashing of online relationships by some of us more conservative folks. Don't worry, I've been there and done it myself. But that was back in the day when I had school, a job, what most would term a social life. Somehow, before one has children, it is so much more easy to engage in a social life. However, a social life requires just that... engaging. An active participation on your part to keep it up, invite people over, go out randomly, make and return calls, plan fun things, hang out.... If you're doing that now, you know what I mean. If you used to, you definitely know what I'm talking about. Yet when one decides to be a "stay at home mom," having a social life in the typical sense becomes much harder and requires more from you than it does your single or newly married friends. For one, there is a lot less room for spontaneity when you have kids. And spontaneity is the soul of having a social life. But how can one be spontaneous when a small someone has to go to bed at 8pm. Otherwise, the consequences include waking up in the middle of the night, waking up too early the next day, being a cranky pants all day next day. It's harder to go to a party and then end it with a late night in the pub because while your single friends can go home and sleep off their hang-overs, you are going to roused by a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and HUNGRY child at 6am. Strong coffee, anyone? Children are no respecters of weekend, sleeping-in privileges, the saving grace of those Friday night parties. Even "hanging out" with a girl friend and engaging in some good girl talk is not the same when your child is unpacking a tissue box, scattering crumbs all over a cutely decorated apartment, or pulling all the DVDs off a shelf. The quality of conversation is strained when you aren't giving it your full attention as you smack your kid away from the cups of hot tea. Heart to heart conversations take a lot more cultivation under the circumstances.

So it's been my finding that "real friends" - as in friends you physically spend time with or do things with - are much harder to come by once you have children. It's not that they aren't there, or that I don't have a few faithfuls from my college and work days who put up with my decreased topics of conversations or inability to focus. It's just that the quality of the friendship changes a bit. And making new friends! If they aren't moms, moms to be, or single friends with an interest in child psychology or babysitting, forget it. It's at this time in my life when I find my daily source of female companionship to be Facebook. I actually count Facebook as a blessing in my life, no kidding. Because of it, I have made so many new friends with girls I either barely knew in my past life, girls I didn't know at all but who were friends of a friend, girls I knew by name but never hung out with, or girlfriends who are now moms. What is friendship, anyways? As with most good relationships, it is based on a common factor. Ours is kids. My circle of friends has become so much more eclectic since having Greta because now I have something in common with all the diverse people I would never have dreamed of becoming close friends with back in college or at work.

A couple friends come to mind immediately. One I met in grad school during my first year there. She stood out in my mind because fellow classmates said she'd leave class to nurse her baby. "That's awesome," I thought. (I don't know if that was actually true or not, but it impressed me favorably). "Baby, teaching and grad school. I want to be that person." The next year, when I waddled into class, very pregnant with Greta, she was there again, too, also pregnant. The main difference was that she had lots of intelligent things to say, while I felt more or less a prisoner of baby-brain. We never became close friends in grad school, but since then, she has been one of my favorite go-to moms for good advice, a necessary laugh now and then, an overall inspiration on how to balance your life. Another VIP in my Facebook world is someone I never actually talked to in real life! She's the very intelligent and well-educated older sister of a friend of my younger brother's. How's that for a far-out connection? But she is one of those people I'd like to be some day. Teaches in college, has a PhD in English (I think it's English), has two kids under 6, married to a seemingly great guy, has a farm in Ohio, knows all about canning, gardening, farming.... all the wonderful things I miss so much and want to rediscover when our life allows. Literally, she's living my dream life, as far as I can tell from FB. And just reading her status updates makes me feel smarter... poetry quotes, political opinions, or just random humor. Can I say "hero worship"? There are many other friends I could name, but then this post may make me look even more like an inveterate Facebook stalker than I really am.

So friends, how was this for a suck-up to say, "please keep my Facebook life interesting for the next couple weeks as I wait anxiously for this kid to come out?" Thanks, all :)

Upcoming Adventures

For lack of anything more interesting to write about (other than my latest pregnancy complaints, of which you have already heard too much), I thought I'd update you with our most recent travel plans. This weekend, we are going to be doing some recruiting for AMSL, our lawschool, in Phoenix. This is a big deal because my hubs loves Phoenix. No, he really, really loves this place. I teasingly call it the "center of the universe" because no matter where we go, where we eat out, what kind of overpasses or round-abouts we drive through, they are all ultimately compared with those in Phoenix. It is rather endearing at first. So to Phoenix we are going. The highlight of the trip for me at this point is staying in a hotel. I can't explain it, but I adore hotels. Nice ones, preferably, but I love staying in hotels. I think part of it is that we rarely did, growing up, so there is always the novelty of a new place and the sense of adventure, travel, exploration associated with it for me. And room service... nothing says decadence to me like being able to order food up to your own room! Am I betraying my hillbilly roots a little too much?

So after enjoying the opulence of staying in a Phoenix hotel and shopping in a swanky Phoenix mall (there is no better way to make yourself feel impoverished, sloppily dressed, and low-brow than shopping in a Phoenix mall), Greta and I are heading to Florida for a much-anticipated visit with family. I will be 33 and 34 weeks when I fly this time, but I'm not too worried because I flew during Greta's pregnancy at the exact same time in the pregnancy. And there were no complications. I'm not terribly excited about having a squirmy toddler on my vastly-reduced lap space for 3 hours and another 1 hour, but that's how it goes. Maybe in the off chance, the flight won't be full and Greta can be conveniently plopped on the seat next to me? That would be nice, almost too nice to hope for. So I'll be in the land of family, friends, and mosquitoes for about 5 full days, and then we fly back home.

After we get back, I'll be 34 weeks pregnant and our big plan is to fix up the downstairs bedroom for Josh's mom. She will be coming out to stay with us at Thanksgiving (37 weeks for me!). She's here indefinitely, mostly dependent on how she and I get along. I have a great mother in law. For one, she is an incredibly religious person, which will be good for getting us more regular about prayer time, etc. And Greta may learn that prayer is more than slapping your hand together at meal times. Ha! We'll see about that one! For another, she is a pretty quiet person, but not awkwardly so. You know how some people are quiet to the point where you find their company uncomfortable? She isn't like that. If there are things to talk about, we'll talk, and if there aren't, we are pretty content to leave well-enough alone. Finally, she adores Greta and Josh. Josh is her one-n-only child and Greta is her one-n-only grandchild. I guess I'm her one-n-only daughter in law, but somehow, one-n-only daughter in laws are not quite as endearing as their husbands or their children :) So overall, I would say that I am pretty darn lucky in my mother in law.

But even the best of mothers or mothers in law can cause a stir of trepidation in the hearts of their daughters when said daughters as immanently ready to deliver a baby. To be honestly, I have been FREAKING OUT about Mom's visit. Bear with me while you listen to the rantings of the slightly deranged pregnant mind. I'm afraid she'll spoil Greta. I'm afraid she'll upset my routine, poor though it is. I'm afraid she'll criticize the way I treat Josh. I'm afraid I won't be able to go in my room and yell when life gets "too much." I'm afraid she will want to make dinner. I'm afraid Josh will let her clean up the kitchen all the time while he sits and watches. I won't be able to exercise in the privacy of my living room because it won't be private... and she'll remind me that pregnant women should not exercise. I'm afraid her room downstairs will be cold. I'm afraid I will loose my temper, yell at her, and hurt her feelings. What if she thinks I'm spoiling Greta, or too hard on Greta, or too lenient with Greta? And... I'm afraid... I'm afraid.... 

There. I've almost made myself laugh. It's so unreasonable, and yet so real, too! When EVER in a woman's life is she less "at her best" than right before delivery and right after? And my mother in law will be living with me through these two worst times. Yes, I know she will help with Greta and the baby, but I don't really want help with either of them at this point. I'm worried that Greta will become used to having her own personal servant and will not like the change when Granmma leaves... and then I'm stuck with a spoiled kid AND a brand new baby. Borrow trouble much, Maria? And I won't be able to yell at Josh, at myself, at nothing at all without feeling like a completely idiot. It is so relieving to yell sometimes. Maybe it's because it stretches my cramped diaphragm. :)

So despite my complaints in this post, I am doing my best to be positive, not worry too much, and see the good in this situation. Besides, Mom hasn't seen Greta in over a year. Surely the good in that will outweigh whatever inconvenience (real or imagined) it is to me.

What to write about when you have 'baby-brain'

Don't worry, no one needs to read this post because it isn't going to be about anything interesting. I'm just starting to feel like a vegetable... a large, round one, maybe a tomato or a watermelon... no, too squishy for a watermelon... maybe a pumello... you know, those extra large grapefruits that don't taste very flavorful? Yes, I look and feel like a pumello. The thing with vegetables, or fruit, is that they don't have a mind to use and keep occupied. They just exist and that is the state to which I am slowly sinking. Simple existence. No real mental effort involved. I'm "celebrating" being 31 weeks pregnant today. Rather, I'm celebrating the fact that I have about 9 more weeks to go before this baby is born. Maybe only 6 more weeks if he decides to come 3 weeks early as Greta did. But I doubt it for two good reasons, one based on fact and the other on intuition. The fact is that the doctors probably screwed up Greta's due date because I had no idea when my last period was then. This time around, I know within 2 to 3 days when I conceived. The other reason is that I want so badly to give birth soon that of course it won't happen. Things always work out like that for me. Whenever I get my hopes up too much, I never get what I wanted. However, if I remain relatively noncommittal and complacent, then I'm more likely to not be disappointed.

(I have a sense this is a very ungrammatically correct post. But sorry, this is going to be as good as it gets. Save the judgment for later.)

So where was I? Oh yes, having this baby soon. So for the sake of posterity, how IS this pregnancy going? Honestly, it's been hard in the oddest ways. I'm physically fine. I've been ridiculously healthy and uncomplicated health-wise. Thank God for that. I'm not sure why, except that perhaps God knows I can't handle bad health on top of all the other drama that's invaded my life. But at our last midwife visit, the baby was measuring just right. He moves around a lot, especially recently. Tonight, he is trying to escape via my belly button. Greta used to do that, too, and it drives me crazy! My bellybutton is so sensitive. Imagine someone trying to poke it out from the inside! I don't remember Greta being quite so active. Right now, he is sliding his little legs under my ribs. Maybe if he gets his workout now, he will be tired when I'm ready to sleep. Tomorrow we have our next midwife visit, this time at our home in Gallup. Then we probably won't have another visit until I fly back from Florida at the end of the month. I'll be 34 weeks then. So yes, health-wise, this has been a great pregnancy. However, there's been a lot external goings-on that have not contributed to my overall peace and well-being. I have one particularly troublesome sibling who has been making my life hellish since April. God knows I love this sibling, but I've learned that I have some major emotional limitations when I am pregnant, and dealing with a sibling's "issues" is one of those limitations. After not talking to each other all summer (not my doing), I hear from him/her again this past month. The conversation and exchange left me so upset that I literally couldn't sleep for a week. That wreaked havoc on both our family life and my mental stability. So for the next few months, I am isolating myself and doing my best to live in my family cocoon. And it's not like there aren't plenty of battles to fight on the home front!

Greta has been "off" recently. Between some bad nights with an upset stomach and some really whiney days, I've almost forgotten what my formerly sweet, happy girl was like. She's definitely so much of a little girl now, and so much less the baby. If I wasn't pregnant now and full of my own discomforts, I would really be missing the dear, cuddly little person she used to be. I miss those quiet mornings lying in bed with her, watching her nurse, enjoying the still relaxation of a family at rest. At the same time, I appreciate that she can do more things for herself now... because Lord knows I don't have the energy to do it all. It's not that I'm wishing life away... it's going away, passing by on its own without my doing anything about it. And I'm too tired to do much more than nod as it passes. 

But not all moments are like that. Every day, Greta and I sit out in the warm front yard. Rather, I sit in the sun, soak up Vitamin D, and watch Greta climb on Tigg's dog house, scrape up leaves, pick up rocks, or step up and down the front steps. I love those moments. Time pauses for just a bit and allows me to absorb some of the beauty and preciousness that is my life right now. We usually sit there until Greta's Daddy comes walking home at 5pm. To see Greta run to the front gate, shake the gate, and yell, "Daddy" reconciles me to having a toddler rather than an infant.

As badly as I want to have this baby, I become sad thinking that these days with just Greta are numbered. As many of my mom friends have said, I do feel very much that I have the "raising one child" thing down pat. After one year and a half, one does learn a thing or two. However, I'm very nervous about dealing with two kids... and two kids of such differing ages. You know, it probably will not be as bad as I suspect because the "rule" works both ways. Whenever I think something will be really difficult, it turns out inevitably to be much easier than I suspected. Child birth was one such thing. I think the trick will be to lower all expectations and plan only one activity for the day, be it cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc. And be willing to give that up if other needs arise.

So that is my life and thoughts these days, in a nutshell. I need a relaxing activity to pass the time for the next two months. Anyone have any brilliant and not expensive suggestions?