It’s been a while…

Well y’all… it’s been a minute. A lot has changed, but a lot is still the same. We’re still a party of 3 for now, but working on a sibling for P. We’ll start there.

We’ve been officially hardcore trying for baby #2 for 3 months now. One month naturally, one month on 150 mg of Clomid and this month we’re trying Femara for the very first time. If you’ve never had to deal with infertility and the hell meds that come with it, consider yourself blessed. It’s exhausting. Clomid made me a crazy person and Femara is making me pee every 3 minutes. I was relatively lucky with P and conceived on my first round of fertility meds so I’m kind of lost and shocked by the fact that we’ve had more significant trouble this time around. Hopefully this is the month, and I can start blogging about my pregnancy!! We’ll find out around February 20th.

My job. Good God. I’ve never loathed something so much in my life. I work in residential lending, where I process and close mortgage loans. If you’ve ever bought a house you know that this is a lengthy process and it doesn’t happen overnight. What you don’t know, is that the overworked and underpaid people behind the scenes are busting their asses and failing to meet the unrealistic timeframes that are set for the process. Recently my position was restructured. When I moved to the department I work in now I was hired as a mortgage processor. Moderately stressful, but manageable. However, they have combined my position with the closing position. Nobody wants to be a closer. Everyone wants their loan closed like yesterday, and when you have 25 loans to close it’s impossible to satisfy everyone. I pretty much close the loans for the people who are bitching the loudest. It’s terrible. I would have never applied for this job, but alas, I was given an entirely different job and a shit ton more responsibility on top of the job I was already doing- for no increase in pay. So, I want out. I’ve been in banking for a little over 5 years, started as a teller, moved to loan operations and then to residential lending. As I’ve moved up I’ve gained some pretty significant pay increases. I don’t make a lot of money by any means, but I live in an area where $10 an hour is considered “good” money and that fact that I make beyond that makes it practically impossible to find another job that doesn’t involve a pay cut. I have bills to pay and mouths to feed so for now I will continue to eat sleep and breathe mortgages.

Me, as a person. I’ve changed. I don’t know when or how it happened but I’ve grown some serious balls. I’ve become assertive and confident and at times, even confrontational. I’ve never been a person to stand up for myself, I would rather just keep my mouth shut and avoid confrontation. But I find myself speaking my mind a lot more these days, and I like it. I’m proud. I’ve distanced myself from friends from high school and become much closer with newer friends who I have more in common with and can better relate to. I think I can partially contribute my change in attitude to my bitches 🙂

And last, but certainly not least, P! He’s a big boy now. We celebrated his 2nd birthday in December with a Ninja Turtle party. Does he like Ninja Turtles? No. He’s still obsessed with Mickey Mouse, but I didn’t want a Mickey party 2 years in a row so I picked the cutest decorations. He had his 2 year checkup last month so I’ll give you the obligatory mom stats: he’s 35 inches tall, 35 lbs, has an entire mouth full of teeth, wears 2T/3T clothes, would eat rice and cheese for every meal if you let him, and watches Mickey Mouse every chance he gets. He still sleeps with me, with his hand wrapped in my hair all night long. He loves to cuddle, and he loves group hugs with me and his daddy. He also enjoys pushing our heads together and making us kiss, that’s a little disturbing and we’re trying to make him stop it… he tried to make my sister in laws kiss the other day. Awkward. He’s just a typical rambunctious little boy who loves running, climbing, picking his nose and doing gross boy stuff. I wouldn’t have it any other way! 

I always say I’ll try to blog more, but I get busy and it never happens. I’ll try to do better this time though, hopefully my eggo will get preggo so I’ll have more interesting things to tell you about!! Otherwise you’re gonna just have to listen to me bitch about my job… I apologize in advance. 


Being a Mom Is…

My friends without kids often ask me what it’s like to be a mom… That isn’t a question I can answer with a quick reply. I usually give a generic response, but today I’m going to take the time to answer it to the best of my ability.

-Being a mom is everything.
-Being a mom is bittersweet.
-Being a mom is giving up the last bite of your favorite piece of cake because your beautiful little boy wants a “bite bite”
-Being a mom is watching your amazing creation take his first steps with so much pride you could bust, but wishing he wasn’t growing up so fast
-Being a mom is a full time job with no holidays or sick days
-Being a mom is spending more money than you have to make sure their 1st birthday is perfect
-Being a mom is amazing. Every single day.
-Being a mom is having a panic attack because their fever is 102.8 and their pedi is on vacation
-Being a mom is sacrifice
-Being a mom is a privilege
-Being a mom is watching Mickey Mouse for 6 straight hours because there’s nothing more precious than the way their eyes light up when Mickey walks over the little hill
-Being a mom is giving up your pillow because they sleep better in your spot
-Being a mom is seeing the world through different eyes
-Being a mom is growing a giant set of balls because you’re the only defense your child has in the world
-Being a mom is having a dishwasher full of coffee cups and bottles
-Being a mom is waking up early and wishing they were up so you could play in the bed
-Being a mom is crying at the end of a long weekend from work because you can’t imagine leaving them again
-Being a mom is leaving your comfort zone and taking scary chances for the sake of a better life for your family
-Being a mom is knowing there will never be a better feeling than being the only one that can stop their tears
-Being a mom is being heartbroken knowing there will be a day when you won’t be able to stop their tears
-Being a mom is hard as hell
-Being a mom is the single most rewarding thing I’ve ever done in my life
-Being a mom is tearing up when you see a new mommy holding her baby for the first time, because you know how quickly the time passes
-Being a mom is wanting to do the best you can in all aspects of your life to make sure you provide the best life you can for your child
-Being a mom is becoming selfless
-Being a mom is spending your last $20 on diapers and eating soup for lunch til payday so they don’t have to use the cheap emergency diapers
-Being a mom is putting them first, always.
-Being a mom is knowing your life will never be the same, and thanking God for allowing you to bring your perfect child into the world.
-Being a mom is taking too many pictures because you know you won’t ever live this moment again
-Being a mom is something you can’t describe in a few sentences. Its something you have to experience to understand.

-and then there were 4… Or maybe not.

Hubby and I have been tossing around the idea of baby #2 for a couple of months. He wants a bunch of kids (3+) and I only want 2. After P was born we decided to go with a 4 year age gap, so P would be starting school when baby #2 came along. My mother in law keeps P and my niece while hubby and I and my brother and sister in law work. So out of respect for our free babysitter, I think it would be best to wait til the oldest are starting school to have another. Clearly that plan isn’t going to work out… We have both realized we want our kids to be closer in age. Just how close we want them has yet to be determined.

I always imagined I would just know when it was time to have another baby, like I would check the mail and get a little postcard that said “Its that time!” or something… Apparently that’s not how it works? I’m truly in limbo about it. One day I’m consumed by baby fever and cry just thinking about a sweet little newborn, or a baby bump. Other days, the reality of life with 2 kids and a full time job gets me overwhelmed and I wonder if I could even handle it. Then I realize how much older P would be once the new baby arrived and it all seems so simple. We can afford a second child, and could swing daycare or another babysitter if we had to, so there is really nothing holding us back.

So here we are… NTNP. (That’s not trying, not preventing for you TTC newbs!) I guess we will see where this takes us, and let God and chance make this decision. 🙂

The Chestnut Conspiracy

As a mommy, we have a very protective instinct when it comes to our little ones. My mom always told me she had eyes in the back of her head, and she knew everything. I thought she was crazy until recently but I’m quickly realizing she was being serious.

I would like to assume everyone knows chestnuts grow on trees. But for the sake of clarification, chestnuts grow on trees encased in a spiky ball of love. Once they fall from the tree, they come out of their spiky ball and the actual nut is free to be eaten.


I was standing under a chestnut tree with my husband’s family having a nice little conversation, while wearing P. I heard leaves starting to rattle, and instinctively covered P’s head with my arm. Less than a second later a chesnut (encased in its spiky ball of love) slammed into my arm. It hurt. Badly. I screamed “F***!!!!!!!!!!” like the true lady that I am and everyone looked at me like I was crazy. After a minute or so it started to swell and bleed. The little spiky bastards from the “spiky ball of love” were stuck in my arm.

I had to take antibiotics because the spikes were embedded and started to get infected after a couple of days. Nine days later, I just removed the 29th spike. The moral of the story: we will do anything to keep our babies safe, even if it means taking a chestnut to the arm. Either that, or I’m prone to freak accidents and have horrible luck?


Feelin All the Feels

I’ve been super emotional this week! P had his 9 month check up, and I was kind of upset about it being the last one before his 1 year checkup. I know you might think I’m crazy… But it’s ok, I already know 🙂 As we were waiting for his Dr to come in, he was chewing on my chin and it hurt more than usual. I decided to inspect things so I stuck my finger in his mouth to feel around. I was greeted by a sharp little tooth. My baby’s very first tooth. Most mom’s would probably be excited, but I was sooo sad! This tooth was one of his very last baby milestones and I just don’t know if I’m ready for him to be a toddler.

Since the tooth erupted he’s been sleeping much better and in a better mood overall. I’m glad he has finally gotten relief, so I’m not going to tell him he has to go through that more than 20 more times 😦

I’ve been planning his 1st Birthday party for a few months now, and I’m almost halfway done buying supplies and decorations. I can’t believe how fast time is flying by!!! Although I would have another baby tomorrow, we aren’t planning another until P is in school. I think that may be why I’m taking it so hard that he won’t be a baby much longer. I plan on cherishing every single second of his life as an itty bitty and spoiling him as much as I can. We are doing a babywearing photo session next weekend, so expect lots of cute pictures of me clinging to my baby… While I still can ❤

New Mommy Regrets

This post is a bit of a bummer, because frankly, I just need to talk about these things. You’re my captive audience, so congrats/sorry! I have been told time and time again that I’m too hard on myself, and every new mom learns a lot of hard lessons with her first baby. I can’t help feeling like I’ve let myself, my family and my baby down with a few things though.

I was very up front during my pregnancy that I didn’t want to be bombarded by visitors at the hospital or at home after baby came. Hubby had saved a week of vacation to take off and spend with us and I wanted that time to be perfect. I was such a bitch about visitors that nobody except immediate family and very close friends came to the hospital, and only our parents came to the house. I had envisioned the 3 of us lounging around cuddling and enjoying our short time to do nothing more than be a family. While I did enjoy that time very much, I wanted to show my baby boy off and I found myself wishing someone would come visit us. When I tried to get family to come over they thought I had been guilted into inviting them and they weren’t actually welcome, so they didn’t come. I plan to be more inviting and open next time around…. Adjusting to being a family is something that takes time and is a precious thing, but sharing your new baby with family and friends is precious as well. I wish I could go back and change that now, but I can’t.

I also gave up too easily on breastfeeding. I had a vision of how it would go and got discouraged when it didn’t work out. P didn’t latch on at all… I tried around the clock in the hospital with and without a nipple shield. He latched a few times for a couple of seconds but once he did he would stop sucking. I started supplementing formula in the hospital, and I don’t know if I will ever forgive myself for it. I think I would have been more determined to breastfeed if the formula hadn’t been so easy and convenient. The nurses kept encouraging me to keep trying and told me it would get easier once my milk came in and he realized he was getting food. That wasn’t the case… He still didn’t latch despite the fact that I had an abundance of milk. I pumped a little bit, but between feeding him his bottles and trying to keep the house in order I just wasn’t pumping often enough. I was only giving him a bottle or so a day of breast milk, and had stopped trying to get him to latch. I was giving up and I hated myself for it already. It took several months for my milk to completely dry up, and it breaks my heart that I wasted it. I’ve looked into relactation, but at this point it would be practically impossible without prescription medication. Just another thing I will be more determined to do next time around.

I then went on to tell a little fib at my 6 week checkup. “Do you have any signs of postpartum depression?” “Nope.” I wanted so badly to break down and sob about how sad, lonely and down I was feeling, but I once again took the easy way out. I have always struggled with depression, so I knew from the time I decided to have a baby that PPD was probably going to be an issue for me. In my crazy little head I thought that if I told my Dr I was indeed suffering from PPD, she would think I was going to hurt my baby and take him from me. Though I found myself getting very upset sometimes, hurting my baby or myself was the farthest thing from my mind. I should have been honest about the way I was feeling and gotten help much sooner. I wasn’t able to enjoy the first 8 months of my son’s life the way I should have because I had too much pride to admit that I was depressed. Please don’t make that same mistake.

There are a lot more trivial little things I wish I had done differently, but these are the big ones. I’m sure this list will continue to grow as I learn and evolve in my mommy journey. Though I wish I had gotten it all right for my sweet little P, I will be better for his brother or sister in the future because of the lessons I’ve learned raising him.