Rya Riot

So… I’d like to go on record as saying that I don’t care how it may seem right now…. but I won’t always look like some slouchy housewife. I’m still trying to get a grasp on this baby thing, the lack of sleep thing, trying to eat right (when I have no appetite) and trying to work out when I can. If it was up to me, I’d go everyday… but lack of sleep slows down that process and of course, having someone at the house to watch the baby, is a major factor in that little game. Anywho.. my point was, the world should have some faith. For that… sauciness will prevail.

I used to think that Carpal tunnel was a bullshit situation for pansies. Till now. I’ve had it since the last part of the pregnancy and it’s only gotten worse. Pain shoots up my arms when I move my thumb, bend my wrists, pick up the baby, a book, a plate, the towel.. you name it. I’m floored with how much pain it brings with it…. I’m just waiting for the next Dr’s appt & hopefully they can do something about it.

I’m working through the whole post partum blues and some heavy sadness about my mom. What a double whammy huh. The Dr’s wanted to add more medication for fear of this exact drop in emotional balance, but the one’s they wanted me on are proven to show up in your breast milk, and I feel like the whole breast feeding thing is hard enough.. let alone carrying guilt around for medicating my kid. the one thing I’m on currently, is actually baby friendly and recommended by OBGYN’s but I’m on such a low dosage that it isn’t considered “therapeutic” but I’ve been on a higher dosage, and sure- it works, but I was a little twitchy and had more anxiety. You know.. either way you look at it… your gonna get fucked somehow. I prefer to at least try and work through the issues.. but if it gets to be too much with everything, then I’ll look further into medicated help. For now, I’m just riding the waves and trying to be very aware of where my feelings are at. I’ve had more random moments of tears since having the baby, then I did the whole time I was pregnant. Then again, my Mom’s health has declined further now, then it was at that point.

I am so ready for the beach. I’m ready for a chance for me and the man to get away (at the right time, those kinds of things can’t be forced. If we went to early, it would be hard on us, leaving the baby and hard on his Mom, watching the baby… I think sometime next year would make the most sense) anway- doesn’t stop me from dreaming about being beachside, being in a bathing suit that I feel happy about, having some drinks and some laughs and just enjoying being…

In the 2 weeks of being an actual, full time mommy…….
I learned that having something’s entire lively hood depending on you, can send you to the cliff of intensity… but once you’ve made that journey to the cliff, it doesn’t stop. You would think it would taper off slightly, given that you’ve reached the intended destination.. but it doesn’t. The worry, the lack of sleep, the borderline obsession over the babies health… all push you slightly over the edge. Once dangling from said edge, you simply exist there in an alternating state of balance. Sometimes you hang by a foot, a toe, a finger, the whole hand…. sometimes you end up in an unexpected free fall….. no matter how you look at it- your at the cliff, hanging over the edge, thinking….. wow, if I wasn’t so tired, this would be some pretty heavy shit.

Hunter S. Thompson, one of my all time favorite writers, once said “The Edge… there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over” haha.. this is how I feel about the first few weeks of being home with a newborn. It’s a confusing palette of colors on an emotional pinwheel. In my lifetime, I’ve always been blessed (or cursed) with the gift to truly feel every emotion. Be it lust, love, passion, joy, anger, hurt … whatever. Now, the sensation that I thought could never reach a deeper level- managed to somehow slap some scuba gear on me and plunge me well beneath that previous comfortable level of emotional existence. Little baby smiles melt every moment of tension, 2 full uninterrupted hours of sleep feel like an entire day spent relaxing with PJ’s & comic books……. figuring out baby cues through a series of indistinguishable crying spells…. feels like the first time I passed a French or Italian test…… (of course, only to promptly forget everything learned for aforementioned exam) or the first time I successfully told the cab driver in Spain that I didn’t speak Spanish but my Mother spoke excellent Spanish, and she would give directions, and pay him… so “apresúrese para arriba!” (hurry up!) (it helps to point energetically in the general direction of where you would like to go, or if the Spanish speaking person is with you, to point idiotically at them. Whatever magical combination I used, I was successful.. and that feeling of triumph is the same feeling I get when learning to speak “Crying Baby” which by far… has to be the worlds oldest language.

I’ve learned that all choices have direct consequences. If you now decide to stay up late, or not eat well or not rest when you can…. you will pay for it. Either within the next hour, or through out the night. Since…. baby doesn’t take your choices into account. It’s all about him… and he’s totally fine with that arrangement. Just because you decide to stay up late to work on the computer, read a book, watch TV or simply stare at the wall drooling… once you do decide to go to bed… baby will know and baby will wake up and start playing the guess-the-cry game. So if you wait until your ready to actually sleep or are so damn tired that you can’t literally stay awake any longer… you’ve then officially made a shit choice. Baby will still work on his own agenda…. which means you are now pass the point of patience, you’ve used up all energy reserves and pretty much… have reached the land of the totally fucked. I’ve seen it happen to the man, and I’ve had it happen to me. It sucks to watch someone else go through it, and selfishly, it sucks tenfold to feel your zombified body going through it. Even worse, is once you have gotten some precious down time… then you wake again to work through the rounds of babydom… you actually feel bad for letting yourself get to the point of total exhaustion, which put you into a place of no patience. It’s a delicate balance.

I’ve learned that once you have a baby on the scene, that even the most solid of relationships take a hit. Both good and bad. Looking at the baby and seeing the man you love in the baby’s face, smile, chubby little cheeks, gives you a sense of total completeness that can’t be explained until you’ve actually been there…… knowing that this little guy has the grown up version of himself to turn to when he needs Daddy advice, or Daddy knowledge, hugs, girl-advice or whatever it is that sons turn to there Daddy’s for…. knowing that he has started off this life with that advantage, gives me a feeling of hope for the little dood’s future. Being from a single parent family, the importance of having a strong father figure in a child’s life, is one that I’ve felt strongly about. I lucked out, since without actually having a Dad around, my Grandfather stepped up and took on that role.. but as I grew up, our age differences took its toll….. but thankfully, the delicate years we’re solid and well behind us. It was in my teens that having an actual Dad around, would have helped a little more.. at least helped my mom with a newly rebellious daughter. ha…

I’ve discovered Fear has many different avenues. Having a baby makes you look at the world in a different light. I feel like I’m relearning how to exist peacefully in a city that suddenly seems more dirty, dangerous and crass then it ever did before. I’m also learning to work through this new feeling of Vulnerability. I’m amazingly self-sufficient. I’ve taken care of myself through wildly dangerous situations and have always come out in a good light… but the newly fierce feeling of protectiveness is so intense, that it’s taking some serious mental mojo to get those neurotic levels back down to a manageable plane.

I’ve discovered that when I’m not mentally, physically and freakishly exhuasted…. that I am literally itching to get back to Fight Club. Not to train Muay Thai, since… the way I look at it is like this, if not I’m physically healed enough from birth to have sex yet, then I’m damn sure not ready to get into a sparring match… BUT Fight Club comes with many different avenues. I can do the basic bag work, cardio and combos with out doing much more then losing weight & letting off steam annnnd getting my fine little booty back. Which, I noticed in the mirror yesterday, has lost its tone from lack of weight training BUUUUUT I’m losing baby weight, which is nice. Breastfeeding, a great weight diet that’s just as fucking hard as any other diet. haha… If you’ve ever breastfed, then you know what I mean.

I’ve learned that breastfeeding means you have just literally made the ultimate commitment to someone. When he’s hungry, your life goes on perma-pause. Taking a shower is the biggest luxury I’ve experienced so far… so it’s the only time I can really step away. If he’s hungry every 30 mins, I’m there, if it’s an hour.. I’m there…. two peas in a breastfeeding pod. The man helps out through out the night, but I worry that he’s reached his level of exhaustion & frustration, and during a time that I’m carrying my own weight in frustration, exhaustion and physically run-downess…. it’s hard to find a happy middle ground. I want him to rest, but I need the help…. I want to help him not be frustrated, but it’s work stuff that I simply can’t help with… I pick up his feelings more then I’d like to, since by doing so, I end up internalizing his feelings. Its a habit I picked up with the ex. I rarely talk about him since there’s really no point if you ask me, I made a good choice and ended a relationship that wasn’t going anywhere good. However, he was the kind of guy that if I walked in during an moment of emotional imbalance… anger, frustration, mad at the world type vibe… I inadverntaly walked into the line of fire, and instead of working through his emotions with a little bit of decorum and maturity, he would let loose on me. Pick on me about everything, until he finally got a rise outta me.. and I’d fight back, then we’d have this huge blow out over nothing, and he’d end up feeling better since he had been able to let off some steam.. but I’d feel terrible. Drained, confused, sad…. I’m just not one of those people who enjoy being fired up like that… I mean, there’s a line to draw, I’m no push over by any means.. but my first course of action is to approach a situation with logic. What’s wrong, is there a solution, and how soon can said solution be implemented? That’s my MO. Fighting for the sake of fighting is dumb to me…. but he’d rile me up and push all my buttons, till he hit the right ones and I’d fight back. To get to the level of being upset, it takes a lot. Anyway, my point to that was, now I pick up on everything and by instinct, try and get away from it before it explodes on me. I know that the man isn’t this way, and that it’s not his style, and truthfully, it’s something that I’m working on… to not react that way, but it’s pretty ingrained in my reactionary make up… so it’s taking time to sort it out. Does that make sense? I think I lost my point somewhere in that scooby do flash back.

Well..I’m going to finish my coffee and get ready for the Pediatrician appointment. I think there’s a diaper waiting for me too……. oh happy days… hello mother hood, good by sex appeal. hah

I’m gonna bitch like I’ve never bitched before.

I’m fucking tired of being pregnant.. I know, I know… it will end. I get it but everyone who’s been telling me that lately… isn’t restricted by there body. They can go have a drink, or a smoke, or tie there fucking shoe, or feel rested after a full nights sleep, or really not have much to think about by way of labor. They don’t wake up 15 times a night to go pee, or feel hungry but unable to eat till you actually feel full (the baby has pushed all internal organs aside in order to have some room… which puts a bit of a damper on eating) I’ve been having pre-labor pains for 3 days now, but nothing seems to be going anywhere. I know it will, so please… spare me the “it’s not much longer/ you’re doing great” chant. Just because I know the logistics of the birth process, doesn’t make it any less annoying. I wish I lived by the beach still, then at least I could wander by the ocean and feel like I”m doing something for my body & soul. At the moment, with the rain, I’m cooped up… with labor being literally any moment now, I’m hesitant to wander to far from the house, I’ve read everything known to man and am now resorted to reading romance novels, which I usually hate… I end up skipping over the romance part and simply continuing on with the plot, so it’s like spending money on half a book. I don’t know what to do to entertain myself and no one else seems to have any fucking ideas either… so it’s just a lot of sitting around. I’m tired of baking, food isn’t very interesting, whatever friends I may have had here, are unreliable (not you Alex… I was thinking of other people, and I know you read this, and didn’t want you to think I was talking about you) at best.
God.. I’m in such a shitty mood. It’s just that it’s so constant. I can’t get away from the aches and pains, I can’t get a break from the hormones, from feeling unattractive, from wanting to have to sexy time with the man, but I feel all awkward and bubblelicious - not exactly the way you want to feel during intimate times… clothes are uncomfortable, anything that touches me makes me feel restricted….

Whatever. I don’t really care if I sound like a big baby… and I know that women have been having kids since the dawn of time, so I don’t really think I’m all that special in the way I feel… but I feel it just the same.

I am sick and tired of feeling like a fucking planet.
I’ve been a barrel of positive vibes and have been working through everything that’s been handed to me, but sometimes I think people forget that I’m still a person, and that it takes alot of my energy & focus to maintain a positve outlook. I’m tired. I can’t really sleep well, getting up off the couch or turning over in bed, takes an act of fucking god, I’m hungry but don’t want anything, I haven’t felt sexy in like.. months. I’m a very sexual creature, but haven’t had much of a drive in the last few weeks, possibly due to the fact that I can’t see anything past my belly… and well.. worrying about suffacting your husband, can usually lead to a decline in friskyness…. I’m terrified of labor, I’m even more scared of the whole after labor part… I don’t know what to do with a newborn… I mean, I know it will be fine, I know everything is going to be ok… but I’m having a moment of panic. Let me have it. I worry about my water breaking …. anywhere… if it’s in bed, at night.. what a mess…. and … yuck…. if it’s in my car, then um… what do you do? With a client? Walking into a store? There doesn’t really seem to be a point where you go “oh yeah, that seems like a great time/ place… let’s have it happen then” I’m sick of worrying if I have everything that I need for the hospital, I keep writing a list and then losing the damn thing and having to rewrite it… I’m sure somewhere in there someone’s name will be left off the list, and forget to get the “labor/baby” text… which will result in some random drama I’m sure. I’m lonely as fuck…. which granted, I understand that I don’t erally have the energy to go out and whip up some new friends… so it’s a catch 22….. but I do get jealous when I see other girls going through a pregnancy and they have there buddy there with them, or I read in one of the pregnancy groups, that one girl’s group of girlfriends, we’re taking turns “walking her” for an hour each day in the last week of her pregnacy.. and she’s like 23! I”m 33! You would think that by now I would have solidified friendships like that.. and well.. to be fair, I did.. I’m just 3000 miles away from them. I miss Gina, actually. Alot. She’s that person who would do that kind of thing.. She’s good people with a big heart.. and she’s like me, if she’s a friend, she’ll always be your friend and will usually stand by you, unless your doing something stupid, then she’ll tell you that your an idiot. Anyway….. I worry that the weight won’t come off.. which is stupid I know.. but still… seeing myself looking like a planet with no definition in my face or body…. is just hard. I love the nice people lately who, out of left field, have told me that I looked amazing, or was too cute & all belly… this morning coming into work, a lady passed me on the stairs and said “girl, you are too cute! you can’t even tell your pregnant from a distance” I could have hugged her… but was too busy concentrating on waddling up the stairs. My brain is screaming for a work out, but I get winded just walking around the block… I was to yell at clients, and cry over my discomfort. I know I’m being a big baby in this blog, and I realize I”m not the only person to feel like this, and I know it’s part of the process… I KNOW. I get it. I”m not the type of girl who’s prone to dramatic displays of emotions, I don’t dwell on things that I have no control over… and am very very logical in dealing with life, love and such.. but whatever… today- this is how I feel. I don’t have the energy to brighten up other peoples days, I don’t have the knowledge to tell other people what they need to do to help me… or to prepare for labor or birth or whatever… I read everything I can get my hands on.. books, flyers, websites, other preggo groups… anything I can to help me figure out what I should be ready for, what the first stages of labor are, how to know when to go to labor & delivery… i read that you should go when your contractions are strong and coming every 5 minutes… but then I read that depending on traffic & your route, that you should go when they are about 7 mins apart and equally painful… then I read, if your planning on an epidural, that they have to give you a saline drip for an hour before they admister the epidural, so take that into consideration when leaving for the hospital. OH.. and since the epidural makes you numb from the waist down, you can’t get out of bed… so they have to give you a catheter…. yet another fun and totally embarrassing thing. You know.. people get this impression of me, with the tattoo’s, the outgoing personality etc.. that I’m totally freewheeling with things. I’m not. I”m super shy and when it comes to my body, I’m even more shy. I have a 50’s housewife mentality in the body of a bad girl. It’s confusing to people sometimes. I’m not the type to show my boobs for beads at mardi gras… I know I have my one SG set.. I understand the irony- and I have no regrets about it at all.. it was a cool experience…. I personally think it’s boring as hell, but whatever… my photographer was awesome, and I actually miss having him a short drive away.. but even shooting that, took a good week to get mentally prepared for it. Anyway.. my point was that the idea of being so exposed for the entire world, with so much going on… is adding an extra level of nerves to my already nervous situation. I have read that by the time your in active labor, you really don’t give a shit what’s happening. Your focused on the job at hand. Maybe that’s why I obsess so much about work right now, since it’s easier then thinking of things I know nothing about? Who knows. All I know is that I’m tired, I feel huge, I feel half handicapped, I feel a little lost, I’m losing patience with things, I want to go out and socialize but even just thinking that makes me tired, i feel like my brain is off and doing it’s own thing, but my body just can’t keep up….. I keep trying to make the world happy but have run out of that vibe that makes me want to give anymore of myself then what I have… which is dramatic, and not all that true… I just need the positiveness, the support, the help to come back as much as it goes out… I started the day, with a fucknig client texting me at 7am wanting to make changes to her profile… I drove out to east bumblefuck to sit down and train her for AN HOUR on how to do those changes her self… yet… still… text message mania at 7am. NO. Anyway.. I sound pissed off but I’m not. I just need a place to vent or I’ll blow up. This is that place. Lucky you.

Ok.. so I have a client that, for whatever reasons… likes to call me on the weekends. I rarely, if ever… will answer client calls on the weekends, and this call is no exception. It takes me most of Friday night, to stop thinking about my “work action plan”…. come Saturday, the only thoughts that typically float through my head is my guy, my mom, our little one, our house, whatever we might do for the day, and any thoughts that revolve around those topics…. by Sunday, I’ve officially forgotten there’s a work world out there and have found a total sense of peace. So.. with all do respect, just go ahead and sue me for not answering the phone Client. Frankly my dear…. I don’t give a damn.

i had some cake today… and have had an upset tummy, and over all icky feeling ever since. That’ll teach you to stray from the norm and off the to trash the rest of the offending dessert went.

The Husband is actually out of town today.. well, I mean, he left earlier. It’s so weird to think he won’t be in bed when I wake up. Not that he’s usually coherent when I wake up at the crack of dawn on a Monday, but seeing him in bed always brings a sense of peace & love. I was trying to think back… but actually can’t remember the last time we slept the entire night apart from each other.. haha… it’s funny how true that little saying is “absence makes the heart grow fonder” since at the rate that the fondness is growing in my heart means that by the time he gets home I’ll be besides myself with excitement. haha.

I’ve been thinking of all the things I can’t wait to do, once the bambino is here. For starters, I can’t wait to count all his toes & fingers. Weird, I know… but still…. after all the obstacles he’s had to overcome (stress, emotional chaos.. the occasional glass of wine, or poor eating habits… not bad eating… just sometimes, I don’t eat enough) I’ll be happy to indulge myself in that one little element of comfort.

I can’t wait to work out. I mean.. seriously. I’ve never wanted to wear sexy stuff to bed so bad in my life and this should come as a non-shocker… but they don’t make sexy sleepwear for girls that are 9 months preggo.

I can’t wait to sit by the pool next year with the family… and be able to see my bikini bottoms. Or actually get a tan without the fear of a fever blister. Man, that’s been a huge downer this summer. Bah. haha

I’m excited to be able to lean into The Husband, and actually hold him close… and NOT have the belly make contact with him first. haha…. I’m excited about wearing a seat belt and not having it push into my belly, making me have to pee. Ahhhh, who am I kidding… just breathing makes me have to pee.

I’m hoping that everything with work .. works out. I’d like to be able to come back to this job after the maternity leave…so please… think good juju for me. Both of us being able to combine our incomes will make this new adventure alot easier. I’m thinking only good thoughts on this… good thoughts, and a lot of faith.

There’s a new guy at work who’s driving me batty. I’ll get into detail later…. but let’s just say that I have mixed feelings on him. There’s two types of sales people…. one who works for the team, and believes that there’s always another sale out there… and then there’s the other kind…. the one that will tell you anything but take the sale so fucking quick your head will spin. I’m not sure where this situation is going to fall, and it bugs me. I have a high work ethic…. actually I have a high People Ethic.

Anyway, that little ditty bothers me a lot right now… but I’m working through it. Grr.

Did you know that online porn is a totally useless way to pass time? I got pretty bored the other day and ventured into the interwebs, looking to see what entertainment lie out there… but you know what I realized…. (oh.. disclaimer… I wasn’t looking for um… ahem… stimulation, I’m beyond content with the home life…. … but I was out of interesting things to read, post, or do…. so out of curiosity… checked out that previously un-tapped avenue) anyway my point to all this was to say… you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. The only thing that varies, is the god awful sounds the participants make. haha… so there you have it… unamused.. back to the drawing board.

Hmm…. well, I’ve felt a little better today… I got some sleep last night, which was nice. I had woken up for no reason at about 3am yesterday, and couldn’t fall back asleep until midnight. That sucked. I was Emo and zombied all day. Plus, it was a Sunday miracle since after I woke up today, ate something… had coffee, I was STILL able to crawl back into bed and sleep/ snuggle till 10am. I couldn’t be happier. Le Sigh.

We have 5 more weeks till baby, will actually means that anytime after next Sunday, the little bug could come at any moment.

I just tossed carb-caution to the wind and made popcorn for tonight’s great showing of True Blood. I’ve actually been a little lenient with the carb watching lately, and think that tomorrow I’ll start being more careful. I mean, I’ve done so well, and am still in the right range of weight gain.. so why in the world would I freak out in the final stretch?? Hmmm…. thoughts to ponder.

Well. I think I’m out of aimless mental wanderings.

Things with my Mom’s health are not good, she’s in the second round of chemo… but they keep finding other things that are wrong with her. I’m at a total loss as to what to do, so all I can do is be strong and do whatever she needs.

Simpsons are on. So that means there’s an hour till True Blood, and then bed.. which sounds heavenly… albeit a little lonely

That’s not true, actually. There’s alot of good things to balance out the hard times… but right now, I’m so tired, so uncomfortable and so tapped out - that I haven’t any energy left to really pep myself up. i’ve been doing my best in staying up beat, focused, motivated and strong through out everything life has tossed at me over the last months and I feel like I’ve done a really good job… too good in fact… since when I end up having a rare down time, no one seems to know how to work with me on it. I just get quiet…. I don’t have the words to explain “what’s wrong” since there isn’t one isolated thing…. it’s just that occasionally, my energy reserves are tapped out and I’ve got nothing to offer. All I really need is just to be held, since there’s nothing anyway can say that will speed up the temporarily low feeling process.

The amount of physical discomfort has jumped from “doing ok” to feeling like someone has beaten me with a bat… and for a girl who’s been trampled down by bigger girls in skates, accidentally hit with fast flying baseballs & gone head to head with a guy in muay thai - saying that I feel pretty whipped is kinda a big deal.

The baby’s head has settled into my pelvic/ hip area…. which basically feels like a boulder has landed in said area. I can’t bend over without feeling the pressure… which if it wasn’t so uncomfortable, would be pretty funny… cause my little one must hate it when I bend down as well, since without fail he’ll haul off and sock me…. on a neat side note, he’s gotten big enough now that I can identify his little body parts as they move across my tummy… I can usually guess if it’s a knee, a tushy or a little elbow that’s pushing back against me. It’s pretty darn cute. Weird as all hell, but still cute-weird. Um.. like a gremlin, or a gnome… weird, but still cute.

We still haven’t worked out a name. I’m partial to Elias James & Elias Presley, those are my two favorites, the man is more into having Elias as a middle name.. one of the few that we’ve been able to semi agree on is Joseph Elias… anyway… i feel like we’re so close to squee being here that we should figure it out… pack a bag, put in the car and just call it a day. haha..

I dunno.. I think I’m gonna try and take a nap. I’ll be back.

It’s 6:30am and already 76 deg & counting.
I’m eating breakfast and already starting to sweat… inside… with the a/c on. Gawd help me.
I ate too much last night for dinner, and now… have recreated that feeling with breakfast. It’s like I just stayed full all night, then woke up still full but didn’t notice till after I finished my little breakfast ritual.
I’m so tired I could curl up on the tile and sleep for ages….
We’re taking a pre-test for Google Adwords certification today…. and let me tell you how exciting that is..

I’m kidding about that last part.. It is actually pretty exciting. I’ve gota really strong grasp on the joys of online marketing.. I’m just finding the hard part is to continuously find people to talk to it about haha
My fingers are so swollen and my joints so stiff that every movement aches.
My Mom won’t really give in to the fact that she needs me. I think we have less time then what she’s telling me, but it could just be that the chemo has hit her really hard…. so it’s hard to tell what the truth is.
Oh my god….. this breakfast. So. full.
I’m frustrated that I’ve emailed a girl that I’ve considered a close friend back home, and have still yet to hear back from her… but through the joys of Facebook, I know she’s been online mulitple times a day. It’s childsish I know… but whatever, that’s how I feel

i think thats it.

Happy stuff

My husband is quite possibly the sexiest, funniest & loving man on earth
The baby room and thehouse look awesome and I can’t wait to be home tonight to enjoy it
The book I’m reading is ok
I’ve realized that I’m not as lonely as I have been (friend wise) since recently realizing that most of the pregnant women I”ve talked with, are actually really annoying. They freak out over everything… seriously, in the last part of pregnancy… a glass of wine is ok… self tanner’s are ok, even putting hair dye on your roots is ok. Pregnancy is NOT the time to eat a whole pizza in one sitting, then head to KFC for some chicken, then off to Basken Robbins for some ice cream cake…. I can’t believe some of the things I’ve read online….. some of the dialogue I’ve seen between the women in these pregnant groups. Thanks for the entertainment.. but I think I’ll just hang out alone for a bit longer. Not that I don’t freak out…I do, I worry about the labor, I worry about our first 2 weeks home with the baby, I worry about the baby’s physical and mental health, I worry about our knowledge in raising a healthy, strong, loving, respectable little man….. I worry about us learning to deal with needy, crying, smelly newborn… I worry about all kinds of things…. and because of this… I just don’t have the time or energy to worry about the idea that my self tanning lotion is harmful to me. Ok… like… Botox… I get. That could potentially be harmful… but come on already… sheesh

Oh my god. If I never see food again, it feels like it will still be too soon. hahah

Incoherent tangent, over.

*curtains close*

I actually feel better today, after yesterday’s weird emo-fest. I think maybe I was tired, and well… I think too, that after all the intensity, socializing and whirl wind of activity from the weekend, that I just had a natural drop in energy…. which left me really sensitive all day. That sucked… and was counter productive to a job that requires tough skin haha… side note, but baby is awake and kicking me at 6:30am. He’s like his mommy…. early riser and trained fighter. hahah. Right. I take my bad jokes and goes now. Another side note, I am way to full…. I had my normal breakfast, but I think my appetite is starting to slow down now that we’re in the last months of being pregnant…. and even thinking about food makes me full….. also…last tangent, but I’m losing the war against the ant invasion. Bastards.

You really just can’t win sometimes.
I thought I was doing pretty good in terms of maintaining some level of attractiveness throughout this pregnancy, but low and behold, when I saw the wedding pictures, I couldn’t believe just how fat my face is. My FACE. It’s pretty dissapointing to say the least. I always wanted to be a mom, and I always wanted to be wife, I just never really thought it would be happening at the same time… so my idea of wedding pictures involved something a little more pretty…. instead of looking like I could eat the groom. Needless to say, my confidence took a bit of a hit in the last few days.

You can’t win when it comes to life either. I thought I did great maintaining a positive attitude, basic control of emotions, and working hard to keep energy levels high… as well as keeping social graces & decorum in tact.. but turns out, no matter how fucking hard you try, you’re still going to forget to thank someone for something, or invite someone to something else, or not say the right thing to the right person at any given time… I’m exhuasted. Throughoughly, completely and entirely…. exhuasted. Also, for the record, after said situations, you don’t get any down time to breathe before you hit the next obstacle of what happens when the baby comes. Who gets to be where, and when.. and how and then the how comes and the why nots and the questions, justifatications, peoples personal wants.. and on and on and on… I’m trying. I’m giving everything I have. I’m trying to keep my new husband relaxed & attracted to the newly puffed out me, I’m trying to keep our families happy and please everyone at all times, I’m trying to find, make, and be interested in new friends, while trying to find time & energy to work out, I’m tryign to learn about having a baby, and understand the fears that naturally come along with that.. I’m trying NOT to worry about the things I keep reading that tell you to expect some hard times with your husband during the first few weeks of having a new baby at home…. which, I don’t want to expect that.. I want to expect everyone to step up and all of us play our part…. I’m trying, every second of every day to NOT lose my shit about my Mom’s declining health… I see the pictures…… ok fuck.. I gotta stop writing, I’m actually at my desk trying to get this typed out and I really REALLY don’t want to start crying here of all places.

Ok… I’m in a place where I can write and not worry about someone stopping by my desk. It’s weird, how, for the most part, I’ve been doing a bang up fucking job, then out of left field, you wake up and wham… everything you’ve been working to hold together, just freaks out. Emotions go all over the place, tears sit just beneath the surface - so close that one rude word from a potential client, or random person at the store, just breaks you. It’s always a passing feeling, so I’m smart enough to know that I’ve just got to walk through the mine field for a couple of hours, and then the moment will pass and I’ll be back to feeling more balanced…. but while walking through said mine field, everything… absolutely everything….. weighs on me.

I hate that feeling of “never enough”
I’m trying to keep appts scheduled for work, to keep activity high, to keep sales coming in, to make my quota, which in turn, keeps everyone off my back for a few minutes….

I’m trying to keep my Mom above water as well as my self… but she’s got so much on her plate. Things that I’m just not mature enough to know how to help with… I cna’t make my Grandmother any less horrible & mean.. or sane… I can’t make my Grandfather any younger, I don’t konw how to help with her day to day responsibilities, the house, the bank stuff, the G-parents appts, her own sanity etc…. she’s doing an amazing job, but her and I both know what’s coming…. and it hits us both in weird ways..and at odd times…. for me, it’s when she buys me something.. since our entire life, she rarely bought me something.. we just weren’t that family. She didn’t take me school shopping, she didn’t buy me music, or … stuff… whatever the hell it is that people’s parents buy for them.. that just didn’t happen with us… my Grandmother was the opposite, and bought everything.. all crap. Even back then… it was always useless junk… choo choo train sweaters for my 28th birthday, figurines of porcelin slippers… junk.. mostly crap she pulled from her back-room (aka: where stuff goes to die in our house, the spare bedroom turned closet) her heart was in the right spot, but she gave out of neurosis, not because she saw something that suited me or that I needed. Anyway, now, Monm bought our baby carrier, and a box of things that we needed… which almost broke my heart, for a couple of reasons.. .for one, I know she’s spending money now becuase it doesn’t matter anymore…. because she doesn’t have to save money anymore, or worry about her future…. it’s done. The die has been cast. We know what her future entails, and it doesn’t involve the need of a bank account.. so that’s hard.. but also, because she knows me so well… too well in fact. Without even having to ask, she bought things that we truly, absolutley would need, and most likely- wouldn’t think to get until the baby was sick…… baby thermomator, nighttime oraj gel for teething, the little weird suction thing that you oh-so-glamourousy suck the snotty stuff out of there noses (motherhood… the fact track to glamour) I don’t know why, but going through that little care package just killed me, I guess it was cause it had so much forsight, and mommy knowledge carried over from when she raised me.. and plus, it reminded me of when she would send packages to me at boarding school… it was always stuff that was boring as hell, but that you were so stoked to get, I never ran out of shampoo, or books, or writing stuff, or whatever random things you need in day to day life at boarding school. While Noni would send huge boxes filled with stuff that would never get used, but was at least cool to go through.. I think I might STILL have some packages of hotel soaps that she used to send me by the dozens… useless.. but nice either way. I hate my mind lately, since it seems like out of left field it wants to remind me of random things, things that used to frustrate me to no end.. but now I can’t imagine not having that annoyance around… when I was in boarding school (for example) my first one, in Tallulah GA, we were only allowed to call home one time per week. My mom was the only mom who was actually a white water raft guide and living on the Gauley River in West Virginia..

She lived in a tent, while working on this river… and loved it. Anyway.. my point to this was that while most kids could get ahold of there folks at normal places.. oh like… at home.. it was always a crap shoot to get ahold of mine… you never knew if she was on a trip, or hiking on an off day, or what… so finally, one day she called me at school and we were chatting.. and I fill her in on my oh-so-dull boarding life… and she tells me hers. For her, she had been on a trip down the river.. as you do, and on of the rafts in the front capsized, knocking out a swimmer… the swimmer got sucked under and wedged into a rock, underwater.. sadly, she drowend. However, story doesn’t end there.. so my Mom’s boat gets tipped over, and off mom goes, another swimmer… downstream, in class 5/6 whitewater (10’s the highest and very rare… and never has commerical trips) anyway.. she gets sucked under, her helmet gets sucked off and thankfully, pops back up, breaking through the water, and pulled back into the now right-side up boat.. but not before going right over where that poor other lady was, who was not as lucky. I remember not being scared for her, cause my Mom was all kinds of giddy over the rush of adrenline (which having almost died on a river myself, I totally understood) but I was mad as hell that she would be so careless and get sucked out. I also remember being jealous, jealous that she was on the river and I was stuck in this up tight boarding school. Thankfully the schools got better as I got older… but god that one sucked. Anyway, I have a thousand tales like that… she was a white water raft guide in Costa Rica, living in guide housing.. and I can barely remember talking to her while she was there, I mean, I know I did… but I think I was already living in SF when she was there, so trying to catch each other at the right time, was impossible.. alot of writing though.. she went to Guatamala after that… and I remember she would call me at the ass crack of dawn, since it was about mid day there or something like that.. and she didn’t have a choice because being a white american woman, she was unable to safely walk out of the place she was staying at once it got dusk.. which meant walking to the town payphone, was out of the question… anyway.. these are the forgotten things that have been coming back lately. It hurts, and it’s hard.. and it’s isolating…. because the only two people in the world who know these stories, and these memories, are me and her. It was just part of our so called normal life. She’s a direct, no bullshit, no social skill having, lacking patience with repetiviness, spiritually unique, little weirdo… but she’s the only mom I have.. and it aches.

Anyway… so that was a bit more of a tangent then I meant to get into… I just feel like I’m in this odd middle zone… people know that there’s alot going on… baby, marriage, job, daily stress, mom, self esteem… but for the most part, I keep it together enough that other people just kind of assume it isn’t as hard as all that…. but it is. It’s alot going on and it’s not in my nature to wallow in it.. but i feel bad on the days that I just snap. Noni’s constant complaining, constant ailments, constant yelling.. constant suspion, gets to me.. and I have to walk away, then I get backlash on it… other people’s steady stream of expectations wears me down too… at some point, there has to be a level of respect.. respect for our lives, together and soon with baby… all of which, me and him are on the equal footing of having no fucking clue what were doing… we need the space, time, understanding and encouragement to tackle it ourselves.. not being made to feel bad because we’re not able to totally commit to fullfilling someone else’s expectations…. I don’t mean just anyone specific person.. but all across the board. My childhood best friend and I have been having issues here for awhile… I can’t jett up to Marietta on a whim, anymore then she can jett on down here… and sometimes, the free time I do have…… I HAVE to take for quiet time… so I get frustrated over the lack of understanding with that….. there’s other stories, but I’d rather not pick off my friends and family one by one… but as whole…. it’s just not easy pleasing everyone… the worst part, is that lately, it seems like communication has been a little misunderstood across the board. My love for someone doesn’t change just because I may not love a specific action.. man, if that was the case, then I’d have alot of hate for people… including my mom & grandmother. I HATE specific things my grandmother is doing, but my depth of love for her will never change.. same with mom.. I hate things, specific things, that have happened in the past, but if you will never be able to question the amount of love we have for each other. It’s just life. Specifics & Wholes, are totally different things.

What else… well, I’m trying to be proactive and not go nuts… I started up therapy again, which truthfully, other then having someone of a neutral party to talk to about everything, I’m still uncertain exactly what a therapist does… but whatever. At least, I have a place to unload for about 45 minutes, and then get to leave behind with them when I done.

I’m in a constant state of uncomfotable… what may be 77 degrees outside to the average joe, feels like 150 degrees to me… it’s not surface deep either, it feels so hot, that my blood seems to be on fire.. heated up from the inside out. I know how dramatic that sounds, but believe me.. it’s the only way I can describe it… my back hurts, my necks in a pinch, bending over is a joke, and sleeping through the entire night is but a distant memory. Being pregnant, and lacking the mobility that I’ve taken for granted my whole life.. is a bit rough.. but not permant, so I am grateful for that. I just haven’t told anyone, at all.. ever.. about how umcomfy it is, so I thought, for once, I’d just let it out. I’m done with that rant, since there’s really not much you can do about it.

On the bright side, I’m excited to meet our kid. I started off totally scared, and I still am.. but I’m scared about me making stupid deciscions and him suffering (ie: not feeding him right, or enough, or not knowing how to soothe him when he’s upset, I worry about the first skinned knee, then I worry he’ll be too sheltered and NOT every skin a knee.. all kinds of stupid stuff goes through my head) .. and I worry about the lack of sleep that’s coming, and the fear of not having my job back after the 6 weeks (which I do really want.. I actually love my job, the product, my coworkers.. but god I hate the stress.. ) anyway.. but once I got to see his little chubby cheeks in that 3D ultrasound, I can’t imagine ever going back and doing something different. He’s where he’s supposed to be, and my Mom always told me, ever since I was little, that I chose her to be my Mom… and I did it knowing just how screwed up she was… haha.. so I have hopes that little baby phillips has done the same.

I don’t know what else to say… I guess it seems like I complain alot, but I don’t. Not really. I rarely make a peep in day to day life, but it all ends up here, so there you go. It depends on which vehicle you know me by.

I have the worlds most full body hiccups right now. It’s completely and utterly distracting, not to mention that the baby kicks in the off hiccup tempo. Hiccup *kick* hiccup * kick* wash, rinse, repeat. Yeeeowzzz. Anyway, things have gone from fast to speedy gonzales fast. …. waiiiitt….

hiccup *kick* hiccup *kick * hiccup* kick* hiccup *kick* hiccup *kick* hiccup *kick* hiccup * kick*

Annnnd I’m spent.

Ok.. I’ll have to finish this in the morning, the hiccups are over taking rational thought. Worlds most intense case of hiccups happening right now.. call guiness.