I'm working hard on my resolve... and by that I mean, I'm tired of being a fatty. I don't like to shop because I don't fit in any clothing that doesn't make it look like I'm wearing a sheet. I can't wear hubby's t-shirts, because I still have a MASSIVE baby pouch from when I was prego. My son turns 1 in two weeks, and I promised myself I'd be back to pre prego weight, and down to my goal weight by then... I've failed, miserably.

These photos are a reminder of what I DON'T want to be... and so, I'm starting the Couch to 5k program... I am setting goals. Hike the Butte by the end of this summer, run/walk 5k by October, run 5k by next summer. I want to do one of the obstacle course 5ks next summer too. Run or Dye, Tough Mudder, Warrior Dash, Run for your Lives, etc.

It's in my...eyebrows!

My husband is a BIG redditor, he is on Reddit several times a day. I think it's his boredom therapy...

He noticed in Daddit, that some people were letting their kids self-feed at around the same age that our son is at now, and so we decided to give it a go... I wish I had stripped him of his clothes first... but lessons learned...

Connor, 10.5 months

 

His Mother's Son...

My son that is... he is his mothers son. While I've never heard my mom say it to me, I'm sure she's thought it..."just wait until he does that to you..." Well, here we are. I have been told I was stubborn, and a pretty awful sleeper. I sleep so lightly, that the cat eating from her dish in the bathroom, or the dog chewing her ball under the bed will wake me up.

For the last 3 weeks, my son has slept great! Going down at 7:45-8:15 ish, and not waking until around 4-5 getting some food, and going back down until 8. But not every night. Tuesdays, my husbands first night off, he refuses to sleep more than 45 minutes at a time, and so I'm up almost all night with him. And Wednesday nights, my husbands last night off, he does the same.

I understand that he doesn't see daddy much, because he works nights, and sleeps days, but this habit is getting out of control. I tell my husband how well our son sleeps ALL week long, and then on his 2 days off, he sleeps like a newborn again. At almost a year, this shouldn't be happening! Not so reliably!

In his (slight) defense, he is teething. Just cut his first tooth, and doesn't take his Tylenol or Advil easily, spits out the teething tabs before they dissolve, and will gag himself (intentionally) when I use the teething gel. He is too smart, and too stubborn for his own damn good!

But I love him. And I hate it when he is crying and in pain, but even Mommy cuddles don't fix it. It's heartbreaking.

I believe that Uncommon Nonsense stated it perfectly in her blog post about FOMO Baby (FOMO: Fear of Missing Out)
 

In an attempt to start of on a good foot, I am going to show you what I've done to productively burn of and vent my frustrations; (Aside from playing video games, which granted, do burn on frustrations, and shooting aliens and zombies is much cheaper than seeing a therapist, it's not terribly productive). I've been working on a garden.

I am by no means a green thumb, and I don't have much luck with herbs or veggies, and honestly, I can't remember what the flowers I picked are called, but they are pretty, and it makes me happy.

The red daisy looking flowers aren't doing so hot due to the sun exposure, so I am thinking next paycheck I'll get some mini sunflowers and replace them, I'll put the red ones into a stacking planter in the front of the house, where the sun exposure is less.

 

Reflections

There comes a time in ones life, sometime several times, where you realize you have spent so much time focusing on others, that you forget to care for yourself. In that respect, this blog and myself are the same. I have been so busy catering to my husbands work schedule, working on school work, raising my son, and creating little creatures to sell at our local market, that I haven't spent any time figuring out the things I need. As a person, as an artist, and as a mother, I've failed to supply myself with the things I need. I have to schedule showers 3-4 days in advance, and sometimes don't make that appointment.

I have decided that it's time I figure out something for me.

I vow to work on the things that I need sometimes. And let the word NO re-enter my vocabulary.

I vow to try to brush things off my shoulder when they hurt, and to always bounce back.

I vow to write more, and to draw more, and to create more that is NOT related to my work.

I vow to shower when the baby naps, instead of waiting for hubby to wake up from his graveyard shift.

I vow to post here more, and facebook less.

I vow to find constructive ways to vent my daily frustrations, instead of bottling it up until it causes a migraine (Like Sunday)

I vow to play more with the baby and the dog.

I vow to take time out of each day to clean, OR run dishes/laundry, and not try to take it all on every day.

I vow to accept that I am not SUPER WOMAN, and I can not do it all.

I vow to be a better friend to myself.

I vow to uphold these goals to the best of my ability, if it means making a reminder on my phone for each one!

 

Twinkle Twinkle...

It's been a while, and I always say that... but it's been a chaotic flu season. I was sick, then Hubby was sick, the little man was sick... then I was sick again. I have missed 3 weeks of school, and have been struggling to catch up on homework, and on my work load.

As for keeping my sanity in this chaos, I've started playing with drawings, and since I suck at drawing actual items, I've been doing artistic lettering for phrases. I'm hoping to do some mixed media with basic nursery rhymes and songs.

Here is a sketch I did as a rough draft for a project. I am going to paint a canvas in black or dark blue, splatter it with glitter paint for stars, and write the words in metallic marker. I will do some origami stars out of brightly colored papers, and pop dot them to the canvas. I'll paint the moon in gold and yellow, partially glittered.

What do you think?

 

peacock blues

peacock blues by echo-mayernik featuring anuschka handbags

Grey-Turquoise Romance

Grey-Turquoise Romance by echo-mayernik featuring zip bags

Tragedy - Sandy Hook Elementary

It shouldn't take a tragedy like this to open our eyes. It shouldn't take a tragedy like this to make us think about the safety of our children. 

Tonight, and every night, hug your children, tell them how much you love them.

Tonight, remember, and pray for those who have passed, and those effected by their passing. The families and friends of those who were killed will never be able to move on from this, they will always be missing someone.

These children were just beginning their lives, they had never done anything to deserve this untimely end. Pray for them. Whatever faith you believe in, pray.

Tonight, people will be missing their sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, best friends...Tonight, people will be shedding tears for those they knew and those they didn't. Tonight, I cry for lost lives, so young, so innocent. Tonight, I hug my son, and I beg that he stays safe!

   

3 months - Halloween

Mommy's little cranky dinosaur!

Two months

And what a two months its been!

1 month!

What a strange adventure!

Letters to a Boy

When I was little, my mom would leave me notes, around the house, in my school bag, in the car, where ever I'd likely be. It was sweet, it helped me learn to read. It was also time consuming, and most of the notes were repetative, and fairly simple... "have a good day", "goodluck on your times tables", "be nice to that boy you made fun of", etc. I always wanted to know how she felt, not the dumbed down sugar coated "your a kid" version. Perhaps I was too young then, but I still wonder about it today.

I have decided to write letters to my son. I will keep them in a book, and give them to him on his 18th, or perhaps 21st birthday. One letter for every week in the first month. They grow so fast! And then one letter each month for the first year, and one letter each birthday. I hope to chronicle milestones, achievements, quirky behavior, and general thoughts and love.

I was adopted, and my biological mother has had nothing to do with my life between 6 months (when she gave me up/got me taken away) until my 18th birthday. Since then, we have emailed a few times, but we have not gotten close. I can not yet forgive her for the things she did, the priorities she chose. I was told that she has kept a journal, with letters and cards for me, for every birthday, and Christmas she missed with me. I don't know if I want to see it, or if I'd rather be angry just a bit longer. Either way, I let her know that my son was born, and I have started my own journal. I hope I can keep it going and write in it every chance I get. (or at least keep up to date on it).

I am going to build it like a scrapbook, with a photo for each milestone marked. And place the physical letter in a decorative envelope on it's own page. I can only hope that it will turn out as wonderful as I am imagining it.

What have you done to chronicle your children's milestones?
 

A birth story!

Making breakfast in the late morning on Aug 2, I felt a little odd. A bit wetter downt here than usual, so I called my OB. Her nurse asked me to go to the Family Birth Center to get checked. Once hubby got home (he left work early) he drove us to the hospital. My OB was on call that day, so I was in luck (the OB on call after her shift was one I very much do not like!)

After a few hours of tests, and waiting, they decided to get an ultrasound to check my amniotic fluid levels. In this process, they discovered that my fluid was low, and that more than likely, I had been leaking slowly for several days. They decided to induce me, to prevent infection. They started on a very slow pitocin drip (I had hoped to stay as natural as I could, but I guess we have to roll with the punches). They diluted with saline to keep my hydrated, and I waited. Each hour progressed and the contractions got stronger, and more intense. They weren't painful until much later.

Family visited, and friends stopped by. I wasn't short on company. To some extent, I am glad I had so many visitors, but on the other hand, I regret not getting some sleep while I still could.

At 16 hours of labor, the contractions went from "hold my hand, this is really uncomfortable" to "The next one will be an adoption!"

By 18 hours, it became "Why the HELL didn't I get an epidural!?!?" (yep, pitocin, without pain meds)

At 18 hours and 30 min, I received a small dose of Fentenol (spelling?) which took the edge off the pain, so I could at least remember to breath. 

At 19 hours, I was  unable to string sentences together, I was catching minute long moments of rest where the world faded from memory, and I was just in empty space, always pulled back by the slow build and crash of the next contraction. Waves that took me under and past my limits. They gave me another small dose of Fentenol. 

At 20 hours, I told my nurse it was time to push, I told her I would not wait because I could not wait. She asked me to wait.

She called another nurse to help set up the room, and by the next contraction, was calling the OB to come in, "she is a VERY efficient pusher" she had said.

Hubby was helping me to focus through the pushes, but when our son slid out screaming and fighting and covered in blood, he nearly fainted. He took a few moments to compose himself as they cut the cord and cleaned Connor up. 

There were tears in his eyes, though, he will deny it.

 20 hours almost to the minute after I noticed my broken water and felt the first contractions, I held my little boy in my arms.

 

Birth plan, meet window. Window, meet birth plan.

With a perfect pregnancy, and perfect support team and a perfect midwife or doctor, you can have a perfect birth plan. But remember the importance of each word in this phrase. Birth. Plan. The birth will happen, one way or another... But the rest really is a plan. This is how I would like things to go...
I had my 3 page birth plan typed out and ready for action... I took it to my OBs office, had her look it over, give her okay.

Then on August 2, I was fixing breakfast and felt a little uncomfortable and wet. I called my OB, and she had me go in to the family birthing center to get my amniotic fluid levels checked. After several hours of monitoring contractions, and an ultrasound they decided to admit me. My water had been leaking from a high yet for some time.

After another couple of hours, my doc checked my cervix, and while she was at it, properly ruptured my water sack (not in my plan). When I didn't progress in 2 hours they started a diluted slow drip of pitocin (in my plan under "avoid"). Every 2 or so hours that passed, they bumped up the pitocin level. While it was still slow, it moved the intensity of the contractions quickly. In my plan, I had wanted mobility, I wanted to soak in the tub during contractions, I wanted to walk around, but the moment they started the pitocin drop, I had to be on a constant monitor. So I was stuck within 4 feet of the monitor machine, giving me the options of the rocking chair, and the bed.

I had  expressly wanted to avoid pain medication. I didn't want the pitocin, because pitocin increases the frequency and intensity of contractions unnaturally, which makes most people want the epidural early. After about 15 hours of natural labor, the pain was just a touch above my tolerance, and I was offered an intravenous pain medication, fentenal (spelling?), which was given in a low dose through my saline drip iv.

It took the edge off the most intense contraction, but was still disappointing, since I had spent the whole pregnancy avoiding medications that could get to the baby. I took 2 doses of the IV pain killer in the following 5 hours of labor.

(TMI warning)
When I was finally at 9.5 cm, the nurse told me I had to wait a bit longer, that I wasn't ready to push, and that the baby wasn't ready. I told her I couldn't help it, the muscles were constricting involuntarily. In the time it took to call an extra nurse, and the doctor, Connor's head was already visible. I had requested that I not be given an episiotomy (cut in the perineum). In the last 2 pushes, Connor's heartrate plummeted, and before anyone knew what was happening, I had been cut to preserve the health of the baby. His cord had been wrapped around his neck, and with each contraction, and each push, it squeezed against him, cutting of his nutrient supply. One push after the cut and I heard the scream of angel lungs!

While everything did not go to plan, It was good to have that start point. Perhaps next time (if there is a next time) we will go simpler. We will have a general list of what we'd like to try, and try to avoid (rather than being so structured)

Every moment of discomfort from the stitches given for an unwanted procedure, and the memories of the 20 hours of severely painful pitocin induced contractions were worth it. Every time I hold my son in my arms and his sleepy pout turns to a subconscious smile, I am reminded that the important part is that he is here and he is safe!

My family is whole and complete now! We will post some of our family photos when we get them finished!