Mommy Needs A Hug

4.5 years ago I gave birth to a glowing baby boy. (Not literally. That would be concerning.) From the day he was born until present day I have not been myself. I have tried to hide the full extent of this for fear of being judged, shamed, or it somehow negatively impacting my employment. In this moment right now I’m coming clean. For 4.5 years I have been pretending that I am perfectly okay. That I can handle anything and everything, by myself, all the time. That I’m super mom and I don’t need help. The truth is that mentally, I have been struggling for years. I have pushed it aside, I have ignored it, never allowing myself to seek help because that somehow felt like a failure.

When Mark was born I had a really hard time. Which is ultimately the reason I didn’t breastfeed, as I had touched on in a previous post. My mental health was in the shitter. I was breaking down feeling like an absolute failure and so incredibly guilty because my child wasn’t eating. I was in the house constantly, too afraid to leave for fear that something terrible would happen if I stepped out of the house. That clearly wasn’t a realistic thought process, but I was absolutely consumed with this worry. I thought that maybe it was just normal first time mom worry, but in the back of my mind I knew it wasn’t right. I knew that the sadness that was consuming me, the nights I would lay awake just making sure he was breathing all night, the complete breakdowns on the bathroom floor, they weren’t normal. These feelings I was having weren’t normal.

I sought out advice from a friend while I was still on maternity leave. I will never forget every ounce of help and advice he has ever given me in any struggle I’ve faced. He met me at Starbucks one day after work, or during lunch, while I was on maternity leave. I came into the city specifically for this moment. I needed it. We met up for coffee and I broke down in tears telling him how I fell like I was trapped. There was this darkness surrounding me and I didn’t know who I was anymore outside of being a mother. He asked me what would make me feel better and I told him I think bike riding would but my tires were flat and I didn’t have bike shoes that fit anymore. I never did take that bike ride, but he put air in my tires and took me to get bike shoes. It may seem silly or small, but in that moment it made me feel better. He always did small things like that. Making me get out of the house for a little while to clear my head, sitting down and having genuine conversations about how I felt and truly caring my response. Still, it didn’t really truly hit me that something was wrong, and even if it did I was scared to say anything for fear of the toll it would take on my career.

Fast forward to when Rose was born. Nothing had gotten better. I hadn’t magically healed. I couldn’t just ignore it into non existence. I thought I could but I couldn’t. And now I had to do this postpartum all over again. At this point I took note of my unusual behaviors. My constant worry. My irrational anger towards my husband. (Sometimes it was rational, but I digress.) I heard the words coming out of my mouth, the tone, and I knew in my head that I sounded crazy. I knew in my head that I was completely being unreasonable. I didn’t mean this anger that was spewing out of me, but I couldn’t stop it. No matter how much I tried the anger still came spilling out like a volcano erupting onto a village of innocent people. I took note. I realized truly that this wasn’t normal. Even mentioning once or twice “I need help but I don’t want to lose my job”. Struggling. I was afraid and so the struggle continued, the worry continued, the anger continued, and I didn’t leave my house. I stayed sheltered in my cave with the doors locked and the blinds closed, only to (reluctantly) leave the house to go grocery shopping and to work. Scared.

Now when I was pregnant with Joey I said to Joseph something along the lines of “you know it’s going to get worse again right?” I knew. He knew. We both consciously knew that something was wrong. Something had always been wrong. And we knew that I needed help, but we all know that people don’t get help until they want to, and I was still afraid to get help.

Well after Joey was born I had my fair share of breakdowns. Getting completely overwhelmed over mundane tasks. The floor needed to be swept but it felt like too much. COVID definitely didn’t help with the worry either. Again, not leaving the house unless absolutely necessary. Having panic attacks at the grocery store. Laying on the carpet in a full blown fit of tears and not knowing why. Not being able to stop. Being just completely overwhelmed with everything. I remember vividly one day packing up to go to my parents house. I was overwhelmed and I needed a break. I desperately need out of the same 4 walls. I needed my mom. I needed new faces, new scenery. So I spent hours packing everyone’s bags. Several weeks worth of clothes because I honestly wasn’t sure we would ever come back. I felt like the only way to escape these feelings was to not come back. That day after loading up the car most of the way I realized I had no room to put the dog crate. Then I came inside and realized that I couldn’t find the babies other sock. He needed that sock. There was no way we could leave this house without that sock. It’s not like he has a million other pairs of socks. We couldn’t leave without THAT ONE. It had to be found. But I couldn’t find it. I couldn’t find it and I just slumped to floor after exploding in a fit of rage at Joseph. I sat down on that floor and I cried over a baby sock. But it wasn’t about the baby sock. It was about feeling like I had failed my family because I couldn’t do this simple task of loading the car and finding a sock. And because of that my children would grow up and hate me. That was the thought that came into my head. That I had completely ruined my children over a dog crate and a sock. Everyone sat there looking at me. I could feel the eyes on me. My children taking note of this, so I thought.

I had many breakdowns over things like that. Small things to other people that just made me feel like the world was collapsing around me. Then like a sign. Like the universe slapping me in the face to get it together, Kim reached out to me. She gave me some information on a PPD group that meets on Zoom every third Saturday of the month. The third Saturday of this month just happened to be the next day. It was immediately like a weight lifted. I told Joseph “I have something to do tomorrow” and explained. He said “good for you!” and we went about our day. It was time. It was finally time. I had finally in that moment accepted that I needed help. I needed to start somewhere, and this was my starting point. So I jumped off and I attended the meeting. A meeting where several other women, with an actual diagnosis, sat there and described exactly what I was feeling. Every thought I had had, someone in the group had also. I was no longer alone, and it was all the motivation I needed to keep asking about help.

I went into a downward spiral a few days later and completely ripped apart both of our bathrooms. It needed to be done, but not right now. This prompted me to get some more information specific to my situation. I reached out the mothers of the Active Duty CG community, who then rushed to my side with their stories of how they got help. Everything I had feared would happen to my career was eased. They eased my worry and gave me everything left that I needed to get the help I needed. To reach out further.

Today I had an appointment with a psychologist. I was diagnosed with anxiety. And honestly, it feels good. It feels good that I got help. It feels good that I put myself first for what feels like the first time in my entire life. It feels good that I have a diagnosis. I’m not just a weird crazy person. I am normal. This is normal. Many people go through this. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I haven’t failed myself or anybody else. In fact, I have helped myself and many others in my life. I have put myself first and hopefully, with time and help, I will be a better mother. I will be a better daughter. A better friend. A better me. A better person. I should have done this so much sooner. I shouldn’t have hesitated.

If you are struggling, let people help you. I missed all the signs of people trying to help me. Ask for help if no one offers. Sometimes people don’t know, or don’t realize. Sometimes people need you actually ask so that they can help you. Reach out for help. Don’t struggle. Don’t keep putting yourself through stress and pain for no reason. There is help out there. There is so much help, even if you miss the signs and don’t see it, it’s there.

If you EVER need to talk about ANYTHING, please do not hesitate to reach out. You can contact me at my email, my instagram, my facebook, my website. Whatever you need I will be there for you or try and lead you in the right direction.

Thank you to those who helped me. All the Active Duty moms, my husband, my parents, my children, JC (if you read this you know who you are), and Kim. Thank you for showing me what I couldn’t see without you and for leading me in the right direction to get help. I will never be able to thank any of you enough. I hope that this will get better and that I’ll keep moving in the right direction to a better me.

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Much love, Your Friendly Neighborhood Introvert

Parental leave in the United States is absolutely ridiculous. We are not guaranteed any paid leave upon having a child, and if we are it’s not nearly enough. The first year of life is crucial in developing a relationship with your child and for some reason the U.S. believes that 3 months is enough time for a mother to recover from childbirth, build a bond, breastfeed, adjust to life as a parent or as a different family dynamic, and allow the father to build a relationship with the child as well. And for those that don’t get paid leave, which is a lot of the population in the States, they return to work much sooner than 3 months because they can’t afford to survive without that income.

I have been lucky enough to be granted paid leave unlike a lot of people in the U.S., which is amazing and I am so grateful for that, but the parental leave as a whole in this country is very underwhelming. I myself have been given 12 weeks of maternity leave with every child. With Mark and Joey I was allowed to take an extra 30 days for medical reasons prior to their birth. Then after, since I was still getting paid, I was able to take some of my vacation time to cover a few extra weeks. With that said, I still don’t think it was enough.

For a little background, I did some research and found that when 42 countries were compared next to each other for their maternity leave 41 of them had some kind of guaranteed paid parental leave, with the average being 18 weeks. In 41, yes 41, out of 42 countries parents got at least some time with ATLEAST a percentage of their pay covered. The only country that did not have any, ANY, guaranteed paid parental leave was the United States. This is unacceptable and ridiculous. Why is it that the average is 18 weeks paid leave and we come up with 0 weeks paid leave?

The first year of a child’s life is especially important. This time is when they build the lasting bond with their parents, they reach a huge amount of developmental milestones, they have a plethora of doctors check ups, and when put in daycare they usually get a lot of illnesses in the first year. Why is it that so many other countries know and understand this and we can’t figure it out? Why is it that we are forced to be separated from our children so soon when other countries (Bulgaria) have over a year of paid leave?

I am in a Facebook group for those who had babies in 2020. In this group I have seen more women than I can count on two hands and two feet that have had to rush back to work within 2-4 weeks of having a child because they couldn’t afford not to. Think that over for a second. You don’t get cleared for activities and work from your doctor until 6 weeks yet women are going back to work at 2 weeks postpartum. Further, imagine, you had a baby 2 weeks ago, you are likely still bleeding, you likely still have stitches that are healing, you most definitely still have an open wound where the placenta was attached, and yet you are forced to go back to work because you can’t afford to LIVE without it. Does this seem even a little bit logical? Is that not the most asinine thing you have ever heard?

And then people wonder why so many women suffer in their postpartum. Maybe if we didn’t force women back to work they would have the appropriate time to adjust to life as a mother, they could heal physically and mentally, and be in a healthy place to go back to work. You want to help women? Give them some time to heal. Some time to adjust. Some time to grow into their new life. Instead we send them back to work too soon, bombard them with “when are you going to have another”, and never ask them if they’re ok.

Don’t even get me started on paternal leave. Dads don’t need to spend time with their kids as newborns? Dads don’t need to adjust to life as a parent? Sure they aren’t healing physically, but dads also suffer mentally upon becoming a parent. Dads should also be granted some time to bond with their children, to adjust to their new life, to HELP THEIR CHILD’S MOTHER who is healing from a major physical event. For those women who had C-sections, does it not seem a little unfair to send their husbands back to work immediately leaving them alone with a newborn after just going through a major surgery?

Joseph and I, in the grand scheme, were extremely lucky to receive any paid leave with our kids, but lets delve into this a little bit further. With Mark, Joseph received 10 days of leave after he was born. At 10 days postpartum I still could barely walk, it hurt so bad to sit down, and my body was still in a world of hurt. Yet Joseph was back at work, only to be underway shortly after. I was at home struggling and Joseph missed out on the majority of that first year, and the years following, of Mark’s life. With Rose, Joseph received 21 days of leave. The policy had just changed so it was a fight to receive those days, and still by no means is 21 days enough. Especially when he got underway, I believe it was, less than week after he went back. Again, missing out on the majority of the first year of Rose’s life.

Now I know that many people are fighting, constantly fighting, for better maternity leave. And that’s great. It needs to happen sooner, but it’s great that they’re trying so hard. With that said, who’s fighting for the fathers? If the fathers get extra leave all it does is help mother, father, and baby. There is no harm in allowing parents time to heal, learn, and grow as a family.

We need to be better. I can’t for the life of me figure out why much of the rest of the world can figure out how to function without people when they are on parental leave, but we, seemingly the only country who can’t, can’t figure out how to function without people or give them a guaranteed ANY time off paid in the postpartum period. We need to be better. For the mothers, for the fathers, for the children, our parental leave needs to be better.

I have so much more I want to say about this but I can’t figure out how to say it right now. I would love to discuss with anyone who wants to if you know the policies in other countries, or if you just also don’t think it makes sense and would like to discuss. We need a change and I’d like to help be a part of that change. If there are any petitions you know of or any other programs fighting for parental leave to change please also point me in that direction, because I would love to see it and help make a difference in any way I can.

Also, I go back to work tomorrow which is why this has been weighing so heavy on my mind lately. I am very anxious about it and have broken down in tears about it more times than I care to admit. I wish I could have more time. I need more time.

If you know me, then you might know that we just got back from a vacation in Disney World. Before anyone comes at me about this let me explain a few things. I planned this trip originally for November 2020 and pushed it back to January 2021 as I weighed the decision to continue going. I planned this trip in January 2020, before the pandemic hit and lockdowns etc. I got military tickets and Disney would not refund them so that is $1700 down the tubes. Also, my family is very careful. We don’t go out unless we need something minus a few outdoor trips, the kids don’t come in anywhere with us, we always wear our masks, we sanitize frequently and wash our hands frequently and correctly. On top of that, after weighing pros and cons of going, I felt that Disney World’s precautions made me feel safer than that of anywhere in our local area. And we decided to drive down and back because that seemed like the safer option for us as a family. I really shouldn’t have to explain this to anyone because I put a lot of thought into our decision to still go, but unfortunately I felt I should explain.

Yes, you read that correctly up there. We drove the (what’s supposed to be) 15.5 hours to Disney World, with three kids. This was our first family vacation ever. Last time I went to Disney, Joseph couldn’t come and we only had Mark. We thought that it would be a great idea to just drive through the night to get to Disney because our kids would just sleep and then wake up in Disney with no issues. We thought. Rose slept a lot of the night on the trip down only waking up every time I laid my head down, to scream for a few minutes before going back to sleep for a few hours. Mark slept for a few hours and then was his usual self and woke up at an ungodly time and stayed up for the rest of the trip, but caused no issues. Joey was the most cooperative out of all of them God bless his soul. The only issue we had was that on the way down when we got to the DC area Rose had a blow out and Joey had the closest to a blowout you can get without having one.

We arrived in Disney at a ripe 0930 and luckily got to check into the hotel early as requested, which is really what I was hoping for. We stayed at Art of Animation, which, we stayed at last time and I wanted to share with Joe because I loved it. It’s really such a fun resort for the kids. If you’ve never been, there’s four different sections with different themes. They areas are so accurate it really just transports you into the movies. There are Cars, Finding Nemo, Lion King, and Little Mermaid sections. Cars has this super cool pool area and the characters from the movie scattered throughout the area with very accurate decorations to transform the area. Finding Nemo has the seagulls outside the buildings who you can hear do the “Mine, mine, mine” thing every once in a while. It also has the big pool, water squirts for the kids, a bar, and a playground that’s like playing in the reef. Super cool, we stayed in that area last time. Lion King has the elephant graveyard as a playground, and then Little Mermaid is all the way on the end with a bunch of fun stuff from the movie to look at. It’s a really cool hotel and we decided this time to stay in one of the Cars suites.

The first day went shockingly well with Rose and Mark keeping their mask on the entire time we were at Disney Springs and cooperating pretty much the whole time. Rosie ran around Disney Springs and was just so full of life and excitement and wore herself out. It was great. Honestly the first 4 days were all really good. Obviously there are tantrums every once in a while, because, kids are kids and after being out and about for 6-9 hours it’s pretty exhausting.

For anyone wondering how we got our kids to keep their masks on. They got some really cool masks and got to wear a new one everyday. They got to pick most days which one they would get to wear. We just kept reiterating that they had to keep it on or they couldn’t go on the rides, or the bus, or walk around. We had a little difficulty with Rose keeping hers on as the week progressed because she’s only two. To combat that situation we just kept telling her how important it was. We made her put it on for rides, buses, and all that good stuff, but allowed her a few mask breaks because she just couldn’t handle it anymore. She wore her mask 85-90% of the time which is a lot better than I could have ever expected for a 2 year old to do for a week straight. Mark kept his on except for eating and drinking with little to no issues, which again, is great.

Day 5 and 6 were, to put it nicely, less than great on the tantrum and listening front. A lot more stopping in the middle of the walkway and refusing to move, the days where most of our mask issues happened, our fair share of blowouts, and a peeing our pants issue.

In the last few days Joey had two blowouts, one being while Joe and Mark were in Galaxy’s Edge riding Smuggler’s Run. I was all alone in the bathroom changing this blowout and trying to figure out how to rinse the clothes out without leaving Joey unattended. Thankfully I texted my mom and she came to the rescue and helped. Also thankfully, I pack multiple extra outfits in the diaper bag for emergencies. The good news is that the second I got him settled into his new outfit he pooped again while we were waiting for Muppets 3D. By the time we got out of that show I had a poop to change and Rose had leaked pee through her pants because of her full Pull-Up. In the end, rough in the moment but still a great day at Hollywood Studios.

See the two things that I wanted to do in Disney was eat in Epcot (specifically crepes, I’ve been craving them since I got pregnant with Joey), and mini golf. We tried every night to go to Epcot to get food and every night we failed for some reason. We got distracted or some other reason. Day 6 rolls around and we had tried to go mini golfing which immediately went downhill. Rose wouldn’t let Joe play. Mark likes to play “I win” so he was cheating. By the time we go to the 4th hole I was over it, but then Mark peed his pants on the 5th hole so it ended anyway. We went back to the car to head back to hotel, my dad made a joke and we all had a good laugh and then drove back. My parents went out and I was under no circumstances taking the kids to get crepes this time after our many failed attempts and this being our last chance. My parents came back and watched Mark and Rose (much like his father, Joey goes where the boobs go) while we went to get crepes and try to unwind. We by some miracle made it there and got crepes with 20 minutes to spare before park close. Let me tell you these crepes were well worth the wait. And you know you’ve made it in life when you’re sitting on a park bench in France with the love of your life eating crepes under a street lamp. It was a perfect way to end our trip.

The drive back home was… fun. We made a little detour and went to visit some family while we were around the area. Which was really fun and pulled the whole trip together. Unfortunately, it did add some time onto the drive back making it a whopping 20 hour drive home, with the stops. Little Miss Rosie screamed the entire last 18 hours of the drive because she was so tired but refuses to sleep if she’s not in her bed. Long story short, Rose has a raspy voice currently. She sounds like an old man trying to yell at the kids to get off his lawn. With that said, the drive home was definitely not as smooth as the drive down, but we managed. We made it home in one piece, thankfully, and made it home to a nice clean house. (I highly recommend cleaning your house, catching up on laundry and such, before you go on vacation. Trust me future you will appreciate it.)

I thought at one point that maybe we were crazy to go on vacation with three very small children. And in some moments when we were having rough moments I really really thought we were crazy for doing it. In the end though, it was so incredibly magical seeing our kids faces throughout the trip and the fun they were having. Looking back on it now, it was everything I hoped it would be, and more. Sure we had some of the happiest blowouts on Earth. Sure we had some of the happiest tantrums on Earth. But it all means nothing when you get to see the happiness on your kids faces. That wonder. Getting to see Disney through their eyes truly made it more magical than anything I’ve ever experienced.

Side note: If you’re going, make sure you check out the Baby Care Centers. There is one in every park. They are on the map. They are amazing and so worth it. They have a feeding room (which I surprisingly only used twice and just whipped out a boob willy nilly the rest of the time). They have nice cushioned changing tables in your own private room. They have sinks and a little kitchen area. And if you forgot anything they have diapers, bibs, baby snacks, clothes, formula, you name it there for you to pick up. Seriously, if you’re going, make sure you check it out, it’s such a lifesaver.

We had such a great trip and I hope that if you are questioning taking your small kids you make the jump and go, because it is really such a magical time. And don’t forget to get yourself some ears and a shoulder creature.

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Alright. I’ve been seeing a lot on social media lately relating to moms that is just, quite frankly, pissing me off. I’m honestly a little heated and I really want to share this with you. Just as a warning I’m very passionate about the topic that will follow so here we go, buckle up friends.

In the past few weeks I have see a lot of judgement regarding young moms. I have seen comments like “having kids is so much worse than (insert completely absurd comparison here)”. I have seen comments that in short say that it’s wrong to aspire to be a mother. It’s wrong to aspire to be a homemaker and wife. And I am here to tell you that those comments are a crock of absolute dog shit.

Lets start with young moms. I understand that this is not the norm currently to be a young mother. I also get that having a baby at an extremely young age is hard. Because being a mother is hard at any age. However, telling a woman in her 20’s who desires to be a mother that she is “too young” is bullshit. She is a grown adult. A woman. A human being that can make her own decision to be a mother. As long as you have the means to support a child, stop telling WOMEN that they are “too young” to have a child. Guess what? Not too long ago it was normal for women to have 3-4 kids by the time they hit their 20’s so stop trying to ostracize women for wanting to, or being, young mothers. You aren’t raising our children. You aren’t feeding them, playing with them, paying for them, or even around them, so stop. Next time you think about judging someone for being a young mother just take a look back at your family tree. I guarantee you won’t have to look too far to see one of your ancestors had a kid between 15 and 18.

Up next on the comment is wrong we have: telling people that having kids is worse than _______. It’s dumb. Having kids is not worse than having a period. Having kids doesn’t ruin your life. Having kids doesn’t stop you from traveling. Having kids doesn’t “ruin your 20’s”. Whatever you’re telling people having kids is going to stop them from doing or having kids is worse than, knock it the fuck off. Having children is hard. It is. It alters things in a lot of ways, yes. You may not be traveling by your own choice, but that doesn’t mean they are ruining anything or you can’t do things. Things are so much more enjoyable for me being able to travel and go on adventures with my kids. My life is so much fuller for it. No I didn’t ruin my 20’s by having my kids. I still can travel and I get to share those moments with my children and it’s great. A comment I actually saw was in regards to children being “way worse” than having a period every month. Fuck off dude. Children may not be for everyone, but if someone wants a child and is ready do not tell them something stupid like “kids are worse than a period”. Are you serious? Grow up!

Aspiring to be a mother. There is not a damn thing wrong with aspiring to be a mother. You don’t have to get a degree before you become a mom. You don’t. Is it nice to have? Sure. But if you aspire to be a wife, homemaker, and mother before you have a degree, or never get a degree, THAT IS OK! It’s also perfectly okay to aspire to be a mother and still want to work. It’s okay to be a homemaker, a wife, a mother, and a career woman. There is not a right or wrong way to become a mother. If you aspire to be a mother that is what you want. Don’t let anyone tell you that you are wrong for wanting to be a mom before you have a degree, or before this or that. Aspiring to be a mom is just as worthy a goal as getting a degree or a high paying job. If anyone tells you it’s not okay you send them over to me, because I will debate them until I’m blue in the face. It’s not okay to shame someone for having a different goal in life than what you or society deems “appropriate”.

On the flip side, don’t let anyone tell you that you’re too old to have kids. 30 isn’t old. Unless a medical professional tells you that your age is dangerous to have children then you’re not too old. I’m tired of people telling people not to have kids young and then two seconds later telling them that now they’re too old. Everyone moves at a different pace in life. People are so worried about others “wasting their 20’s” raising kids and then turn around and tell people that they should have kids now while they’ve decided to travel the world and build a career or a business.

It’s really very hypocritical and I for one, am tired of it. You can’t have it both ways. You can’t tell people they’re too young, then tell them they’re too old. You can’t tell them not to aspire to be a mom and then tell them they have to be a mom. You can’t tell people kids ruin whatever, and then say they’re the greatest gift. You can’t keep telling people to how to live their own lives! Just stop! Everyone moves at a different pace. Everyone has different goals. Everyone has their own life that you have no business putting in your input on. Stop telling people what to do or not, be or not be, and that they’re wrong. It is not your life. I repeat, It. Is. Not. Your. Life.

For those people on the receiving end of these comments. Tell them to screw off. You do you. Don’t feel ashamed because someone feels the need to butt in where they don’t belong. Your life and goals are your own and you don’t need to explain that to anyone. Do not let people try and dictate a life that they are not a part of. You don’t need to fall into societal “norms”. They’re dumb and not needed. Do what makes you comfortable and happy. Whether that be having kids at 20 or 35. Being a stay at home mom or a career mom. Traveling alone or traveling with a your kids and spouse. It is nobody else’s business but yours.

In the end I just want to say that kids don’t ruin your life. Being a parent is what you make of it. If you have it in your head that your kids are ruining your life then that’s on you. It makes me beyond angry when people tell me personally that my kids are in the way of me enjoying my 20’s. I enjoy my 20’s just fine running around in the backyard with my kids and doing all the things I love with my best friend and kids in tow. I love getting to share my 20’s with my kids and I refuse to let anyone make me believe that I’m wrong for having my kids young and absolutely knowing full heartedly that I wanted to be a mother and wife. You will not make me feel bad and I will fight anyone who tries.

Thank you for reading this and if you are one of those people who make those comments, correct yourself. Please and thank you. Be better. Stop shaming women for all their choices and grow up.

This is not your typical mom post by any means. This is not me rambling about being overwhelmed. This is not about my parenting. This is not about mom shaming. This is not any of your typical posts that come from me, but I need to write this down. I feel like a crazy person and this topic is haunting my dreams. Quite literally.

I know that dreams are a window into your subconscious. Your dreams and nightmares are likely trying to tell you something. For that reason most of my nightmares reflect my biggest fears involving my kids. Why my kids? Because I’m more afraid of something happening to them than anything else and my nightmares follow that pattern. Obviously that occasionally changes, but not very frequently and not for long.

I do have a lot more nightmares than dreams. I’ve had nightmares of abductions, house fires, robbers, all your typical fears as a mom. (At least I think, unless one of you tells me I’m crazy.) These fears don’t change. I’ll always be afraid of someone hurting my kids. Lately though, they’ve been a little different and I’m trying to figure out these nightmares.

So last month I had a “theme” for lack of a better word of people hunting down my children and I to hurt us. It was terrifying. It was graphic. And not at all the normal for me. Since then it’s just gotten stranger and more abnormal. My “theme” for this month has been very strange. The characters have changed throughout the month but the theme has stayed the same. And within the past week and a half it has been the same exact nightmare just with different settings. Different houses. Different areas. Same nightmare.

All this month I’ve had nightmares about people in my life getting possessed. Never me, but all of the people who surround me. But not even possessed. It’s like a demon makes an exact replica of that person and hides the actual person somewhere, or is just avoiding them throughout. The demon has that persons face and body, but no their demeanor, which is what ultimately helps me figure out that it’s not the person I know. My parents, Joe, my sister, my niece and nephew, they’ve all been in at least one of these nightmares.

To go into more detail with what’s stumping me though is the recurring one for the past week and a half. The one that’s the exact same nightmare in different settings. I’ll just explain the one I had last night.

So basically Joseph and I were living in this three story house, that also had a basement. Joseph and I went downstairs to the ground floor to get something before bed. In typical fashion our children followed us down and talked our ear off the whole time. I told Joe I was putting the kids to bed and went upstairs with them. The kids had this huge bed that they shared together in what looked like a master suite, which like, is odd but ok. Joey was not there, also, odd. So the three of us were waiting patiently in the kids room with the light on listening to Joe hit some golf balls. Then I heard him out in the hallway talking to children. Now I have had this nightmare before and for whatever reason I knew that in the nightmare that this had happened before. Joseph was telling the kids “what are you doing out here? I thought mommy was putting you to bed. You know you aren’t supposed to be out there”. I opened this giant double door into the hallway and just as I thought Joseph was out there talking to our actual children and the two in the bed were demons. I turned and looked at them and then woke up.

I have no idea what these demons want. I never figure it out. I always wake up before I get to that part. And for whatever reason the demons and possession isn’t even what scares me. I woke up last night after that, woke Joe up to talk it out so maybe I could sleep, but it just kept bugging me. Like I said, the possessions don’t scare me for whatever reason. What scares me is that in the nightmare I don’t know that the demons aren’t my kids. I don’t know that these things are impostors. And that terrifies me and disturbs me.

I would know if it wasn’t my child wouldn’t I? If something ever happened to my kids and someone replaced them I would know wouldn’t I? I’m a mother. I know my kids. I would know that it wasn’t them. I would know if it was in fact not my child standing in front of me right? For some reason this idea is haunting me. I know the likelihood of someone replacing my kids is so unbelievably low, so why does this scare me so much that I wouldn’t know that someone had done it? Is this playing into my fear that this world is such a scary place and children get abducted all the time? Is it because I’ve read one too many story about a child that got abducted and the wrong child was “rescued” and returned to the parents several years later? I don’t know. I really don’t know. But the idea of not knowing if my own kids are standing in front of me or not truly shakes me to my core. What kind of mother doesn’t know her own kids, right?

Ideally, I’d like to stop having nightmares. That’s unlikely though, so right now I just want to figure this out. I want the thought to stop haunting me. I want to figure out the root of this particular nightmare “theme”. This one really has me stumped. What kind of nightmares do other mothers have? Am I a complete weirdo? Are my nightmares like off the wall? What is going on in that brain of mine? What is it trying to tell me? I just need to figure this out, because it’s not the newborn that’s keeping me up at night.

Being a mother of three has proven to be a humbling experience thus far. One second I feel like the best mom in the world and the next I feel like I’m screwing my kids up and they’re never going to forgive me. One day I’ll find myself being so attentive making them these nutritious meals and planning activities and teaching them new things. Then the next day I’m letting them eat cheesecake for dinner and spending all my time trying to catch my breath and do a million things around the house, and only realizing as I lay down for bed that night that I ignored them all day.

When I was parenting two kids pretty much alone, I pretty consistently felt like I had it all under control. At least I made myself think that on the outside even when deep down I felt like I had nothing under control. I made it a point with just Mark and Rose to give them both their own special time, whether it was snuggles, a book, or an activity they liked (dancing mostly). When I found out I was pregnant again I thought “oh it’ll be just as easy to do this with three as it is with the two of them”. I must have forgotten how needy newborns are, or maybe I was just naïve. I kind of feel like I set myself up for failure in not thinking that I would need to change my schedule. Thinking that the same schedule for two would work for three.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m starting to kind of figure it out, but the first few months have been a hard adjustment. Especially with breastfeeding where I’m the sole person who can feed the baby. It’s hard to try and make time for Mark and Rose when at the drop of a hat a small child could be in a full on panic thinking that he’ll never eat again because there wasn’t immediately a titty in his mouth the absolute first second that he thought he might possibly be hungry.

The past couple of weeks I finally starting getting used to giving each child their own personal time when everything in our house starting breaking or needing attention, and life starting happening again. I mean I have had not a thing to do for the past 3ish months other than be a full time mom and wife, so when things started getting busy and complicated my little engine got a wrench thrown into it and it started to sputter. I mean I could only handle so much. So I had just gotten used to giving everyone their time and then had to focus on getting life together. It’s easy to get overwhelmed when things start breaking, you have to cook and clean, there’s kids who need time and attention, a husband who should also get time and attention, and just generally being a homemaker with other stuff going on.

So this week I’ve been trying so hard to get back into it. I’ve been trying to give Joe time to take the two older kids out to play so I can have some quality time with Joey. In turn I also take time to snuggle with just Mark, or Rose separately or do an activity. This week I’ve made time to dance with Rose and teach her the alphabet. I’ve also taken the time to play cars with Mark and read some books to him. I also think it’s still really important to spend time with Mark and Rose without Joey. So tonight we plan on having a sleepover in our room in a tent. They’re really excited which makes me feel like I’m succeeding today.

The past weeks have also been really important to me to have time as a whole family. We have been looking at Christmas lights. We have gone to the zoo. We like to go on walks as a family, whether at the seawall or just on the path behind our house. We’ve also been spending a lot of time in the backyard as a family. I think it’s really important to nurture all of the relationships in the family as well as build a new, healthy family dynamic. Still, sometimes I feel like I’m still a little in over my head as I have to adjust to a new family dynamic myself.

Some things specifically I find myself struggling to manage adjusting from two to three. We were potty training Rose before Joey arrived and it’s been really hard for me to give that the focus it needs and deserves. I also find myself losing my patience with Mark particularly and it makes me feel like a complete failure as a mom. I hate losing my patience with Mark and Rose, but particularly Mark because since he is older I convinced myself that he knows better. When in reality, he’s still only 4 years old and doesn’t really know that much better. In general, losing your patience with your kids as a mom is kind of crushing, but when I realize I’m losing it more with one over the other (and sometimes I’m rougher on Rose too) it feels really shitty.

After me saying all that, this may come as a shock, I genuinely believe that it’s been an easier adjustment period to go from two to three than any other adjustment. Adjusting from being a married couple to parents was so incredibly difficult. Then adjusting to a family of three to four got so much easier. Which seems silly thinking about how having a toddler and a newborn was easier than just focusing on a newborn, but I don’t make the rules, it was just easier for us. And even sillier, it’s even easier to have two toddlers and newborn than it was to have one toddler and a newborn. Maybe I should take up juggling.

Anyway, I’m still adjusting to having three kids and some days are better than others. Some days I feel like super mom and other days I feel like I’d be better off taking a vacation and letting the kids have some time away from me. Some days I can make three square meals a day from scratch and others I skip meals and everyone else gets peanut butter sandwiches for two of the three meals. And that’s fine. Maybe that’s just a part of motherhood that I never noticed before until now. Now that I’m taking time to reflect on things I feel like I’m noticing more.

If you have three or more kids what are some things you’ve noticed when transitioning to the addition of a child? What helps you make special time with each of your kids? What are some one on one activities you recommend? I’m hoping that I can get back into my routine here soon and feel like a more consistently good mom. I’m far too hard on myself and I realize that when my kids just look at me like I’m the best thing since sliced bread, even on my bad days. Here’s to balancing better and feeling better about myself.

I’m sorry if this was very rambling. Bear with me please. And please please please if you have any advice please share. Or need advice. I’m an open book and my Instagram, email, or Facebook is always open.

First off, welcome everyone to December and we are almost to the end of 2020. I hope that everyone’s healthy physically, mentally, and emotionally. If you’re having a hard time I’m always here to help and make sure you’re practicing proper self care. For those moms out there, just a reminder that you need time without your children sometimes and self care is more than just taking a shower or practicing basic hygiene. And I hope that everyone’s enjoying the holiday prep as much as you can. Now to the main course.

Gender disappointment. It’s real. It’s OK. And I’m going to talk about it.

Now I know what some of you are thinking “children are a blessing how could you possibly be disappointed by their gender?” And that’s completely true. Children are an incredible blessing and at the end of the day we’re all just happy to have healthy babies. However, sometimes that initial shock of finding out the gender and the baby not being what you expected or maybe were hoping for, can kind of be disappointing. It’s not that you love your child any less because they were a boy or a girl, but if you have three boys and were hoping to finally get a girl it can be a little sad to see that not happen.

I’ll speak on my personal experience. When I first got pregnant for the first time I had this gut feeling that we were having a boy, and we did. Now I always thought that I would only have boys so when I got pregnant for the second time and I got that gut feeling that I was having a girl it honestly got me really hopeful because I didn’t think that I would ever have that. I am by no means a girly girl, but it’s really fun to dress up little girls. And Rose just so happened to be way easier to this point (knock on wood) than Mark was up to her age, and he just gets harder. So when I got pregnant for the third time, I’ll be honest with myself and all of you, I was hoping for another little girl. I kept thinking how easy Rose was and how much fun it is to put cute dresses and bows on her and just play dress up with her.

My gut feelings hadn’t been wrong yet, and a feeling I couldn’t shake was that baby #3 would be a bouncing little boy. And I went to that ultrasound while she searched around for all his limbs being accounted for, still hoping deep down that there was a chance it was a girl. When the ultrasound tech told me that my gut was right and I was indeed having another little boy, my stomach dropped a little. I felt bad even thinking it for a second, but I was a little disappointed. Still, I pulled myself together inside and walked out to my mom’s car and we drove back home to reveal it to the kids, Joe, and my mom.

I secretly grabbed that golf ball with that little blue mark on it and we picked our “team boy” and “team girl” stickers and headed to the backyard. I hyped everyone up and Joe hit the golf ball revealing the blue powder inside that confirmed to him and the family that we were having a baby boy, a little baby Joey.

See we had discussed the previous night that both Joseph and I were still holding out hope that baby would be another little girl. So I could see on his face the slight disappointment that I had also seen reflected back in the mirror. Still, we put on a smile and hugged each other, hugged the kids, and shared the news with family (many of whom didn’t even know I was pregnant until that day).

While we were disappointed and it’s OK to be disappointed, within a matter of hours we were both over the moon excited. At the end of the day we were happy to be welcoming a healthy baby. A healthy baby BOY to our growing family. What a blessing a healthy baby is and at the end of the day I wouldn’t change having a baby boy for the world. Joey is exactly what we needed and I’m so glad that I have his tiny little face to see everyday. Babies are blessings, and while gender disappointment is real and it’s fine to have, as long as you love that baby when it arrives none of that matters.

I’m also aware that some people may be more disappointed than others. We went into baby #3 with a boy and a girl, so no matter what the gender we would have a “tie breaker”. I had a boss that had two girls and after his wife getting pregnant with a third girl, he was a little disappointed. Obviously still excited, but after two girls he was hoping for a son. I also have a friend who had two boys and after getting pregnant with her third, was hoping for a little girl. If you’re still reading this and thinking I’m a terrible human for feeling disappointed for a slight moment just think for second. Take this for example: you have 8 kids, all girls. Your wife, or you, gets pregnant with your ninth child and you find out it’s baby girl #9. You’d probably be a little upset for a second. This situation happens a lot (not usually on that size scale, but you get my point) and we all feel a little bad being disappointed, but it’s fine to feel that way as long as you get past it. It’s normal.

I wanted to write this post to let you all know that you’re normal. There is nothing wrong with feeling a little down for a moment about what you’re having. Some of you may disagree with me. Some of you may think I’m terrible for thinking this way. Some of you may have never experienced this. But for those of you who have, or who will experience this one day, this one’s for you. You. Are. Normal. You don’t have to feel guilty about it. You don’t have to feel like a terrible human. You don’t have to look back at your genuine feelings and feel bad about it. It’s how you felt. At the end of the day as long as you love your child with all your heart no matter what, then that moment of disappointment that disappeared doesn’t matter.

Boy am I glad that you guys aren’t waiting for me to write this in real time or I’m not on some kind of live platform. I just had to take a 15 minute “break”. I say it like that because when I say “break” I mean that my potty training daughter just pooped in her Pull Up and then went into the bathroom and tried to go potty while Joe was rocking Joey to sleep. Needless to say she was covered in poop, the bathroom was covered in poop, the floor was then covered in poop because I had to clean her up. The bath had to be filled and baths given. A shit storm if you will. I may have just jinxed myself previously in this post in saying that Rose was easier than Mark.

Anyway, gender disappointment is real. It’s OK. If you’ve ever experienced or will experience it, don’t feel bad or guilty as long as you love your kid. If you ever want to talk about it, know that a lot of people experience it, myself included, and I’m more than willing to chat with you about it if you’d like.

Stay safe. Stay healthy. Remain calm. If you need to talk about anything or would like me to talk about anything, let me know. Happy holiday season!

I just wanted to take the time to write a quick post today. With it being Thanksgiving today I want to give some special thanks and talk about what I’m thankful for.

First of all, I am thankful for each and every one of you that reads my blog. It means the world to me to get to go on the journey of motherhood with you all. I love giving any advice I can give, and I’m so grateful to that I get to share so much with you. It’s amazing to know that all these thoughts I have that I thought I was alone in, a lot of you share the same sentiments. I am really just so grateful for the support I’ve been given from the beginning of this blog journey. I hope you all have a wonderful holiday and you enjoy a yummy meal. You deserve it!

Second, I want to thank my husband. We have had a rough year. We have had many a broken appliance. We have had attitude issues from our toddlers. We had to deal with a pandemic and me being pregnant on top of it. We had a lot of relationship growth that we had to go through this year as well as a lot of personal growth. Through all the struggles we have had this year, I am so thankful that you were here walking by my side. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you, and I wouldn’t have wanted to do any of it without you by my side. You annoy the crap out of me sometimes and sometimes make me feel under appreciated, but even on our bad days I choose you over anyone else. Thank you for being my best friend, my rock, and the best daddy to our kids. I’m so incredibly thankful for you and the support you gave me this year (especially in the delivery room). I love you.

I am thankful for my three beautiful children. You guys make me want to pull my hair out, I’ll admit it. You have an attitude that is unmatched (Rose), emotions that are so strong (Mark), and a strong set of lungs (Joey), but even for all the bad you three bring so much good. So much happy. You have made one of the worst years I have ever had into such an amazing one. You kept me smiling, you kept me playful, you kept me on my toes and always gave me a reason to get up and do something. I love the three of you so very much and am so grateful for how you care for Daddy, me, and each other. I am so very blessed with the three of you, and so very blessed to have welcomed Joseph into our fun filled family dynamic. You three are most perfect three things that I’ve ever done. I’ve gotten a lot wrong in life, but never the three of you and I am so thankful to have been blessed with you, and that you chose me to be your mommy.

This one specifically to my mom. I am beyond thankful for you, this year as well as every year before it. You are kind. You are caring. You are compassionate. You are so helpful. You love me when I can’t love myself. You are always there for me to talk to. I said it before. This was an incredibly hard year for my family, but you made it a little bit easier for us. You always drop everything to come help us and you always have. You dropped your entire week to come here and watch our kids so Joseph could do his homework. You dropped everything to watch the kids while I was getting induced. You cook for me. You have cleaned my entire house. You help me no matter what it is I need. You have been my shoulder to cry on. You have been the arms that hold me when I need it. There is nothing like a mother’s love and I’m glad that you are mine. We have had our fair share of arguments this year but at the end of it you still show up for me and I can’t thank you enough for that. I am so thankful for you and all you do. You are the single best human being that I have ever met and I love that you treat Joseph and our kids like they are your own. You have always, and will always, be my best friend forever. I love you mommy.

Dad. Oh daddy. I know you probably won’t read this but I’ll say it anyway. Thank you for all you do for us too. I know you have a lot on your plate, yet you still make time for us, and I will never forget that. You make me smile when you compliment my food. I love to see you play with the kids and it made me so happy when you sat a read a book to them. I appreciate you cutting our lawn more than you’ll ever know. And I am thankful for the times you tell mommy to come see us when she’s questioning it for whatever thing she has to do that day. You never miss a big event and that is something I will never forget. I am so thankful for you, even if I don’t tell you enough.

To the rest of my family and friends, I hope you have an absolutely wonderfully holiday, you truly deserve it. I have the best family a girl could hope for and I am so incredibly thankful for that.

Thank you to everyone who has supported my family and I in this incredibly tough year. My heart is so full today. No matter how insignificant you think the support was just know it doesn’t go unnoticed. And I will remember it forever. I know I don’t tell people nearly enough. Even every single day is not enough so thank you. Thank you all again for reading and continuing to support my blog. Happy Thanksgiving and big hugs from me to you.

What are you thankful for today?

Your thankful motherhood introvert

Please excuse my delay in writing. It was a rough couple of weeks, as you can probably tell from my previous blog posts. And it just kept getting rougher. I found myself crying on the floor over a baby sock because I was overwhelmed so we have been away and then when we got back the heater broke, I had laundry to catch up on (I still haven’t caught up), no sleep and not enough coffee because 5 people in one tiny room, a mouse and setting up Terminix coming out, an ER visit for Rose eating toothpaste, and a case of thrush for me and Joey. Busy week. It still hasn’t started looking up but I won’t get into that, just yet at least.

AAAAAAAnywho.

The holidays are difficult. They’re financially, mentally, and emotionally straining. This isn’t a mom specific difficulty. It’s hard for single folks, newlyweds, and families. It’s just hard in different ways and I’m finding it hard to believe that the holidays ever get easier, honestly.

First off, the holidays bring with it daylight savings time. It’s hard to stay motivated and cheery when it gets dark before dinner. Then, there’s the financial burden that the holidays place on a lot of us. You have presents for God knows how many people, then as a military family or even just someone not living at home you have plane tickets or gas to drive where you need to be. Not to mention the actual stress of traveling during the holidays. The traffic, driving or airport. This year in particular is going to be hard for the holidays. A lot of people are already struggling financially with the shut downs at the beginning of the year and more shut downs looming. Traveling this year, if it even happens, is going to miserable. Then worrying about the potential of getting COVID after the holidays and the inevitable boom in cases post holiday.

When you’re single the holidays for a lot of single folks means getting bombarded with “when are you going to get a *significant other*” and other questions regarding your life and life choices. That in and of itself gives people anxiety. No one wants to field all those questions while they’re trying to enjoy the holidays. (cue single folks getting extremely drunk so they don’t have to) I can’t personally relate, but I’m sure that just gets worse the older you get.

Then you finally found your special someone and you take them home for the holidays. Now you have to field the “when are you getting married” “is it serious” questions. (Cue you and your significant other getting drunk to deal with questions) Again, I’m sure this gets worse the older you get.

Finally, you get married and you go to both of your families houses for the holidays because, honestly, you don’t have any reason not to and it’s nice to see everyone. Depending on your family and how long you’ve been married you field another string of questioning. You know where this is going. “When are you two going to have babies?” Wildly inappropriate honestly, with the possibility of infertility or baby loss. (You don’t know what people are going through)

If you do welcome a little blessing into the world the holidays really step it up a notch. As a mother and a wife, a military member to boot, I can really understand how stressful this gets. When you have kids the holidays get a little bit harder to manage. It gets harder to do it all and at some point you have to make your own traditions. With small children it’s not always realistic to go to everyones family, or even anyone’s family, for the holidays. And it’s more important that the holidays are special for those kids.

It is so much work to make the holidays magical. Once you become a parent you realize very quickly that the holidays were magical because you had a mom who loved you very much and did everything she could to make it special and see your eyes light up with the holiday magic. I bend over backwards to make the holidays special for my kids, and honestly Joseph too. I buy all the presents for everyone, Joe’s family and my own. I put a lot of thought into it and I really like to get people things I know they’ll love which is stressful for me because I want the presents to be perfect. Then I set up all the decorations so I can watch the kids eyes light up when they see the Christmas tree and all the ornaments. Then I wrap all the presents and I slip them under the tree and set up the stockings. I plan out what is for the stockings and what is from Santa and what is from us, in addition to wrapping the presents from family we won’t see.

It usually falls on me to make the plan of where we will be going and seeing during the holidays. This is so mentally draining for me because I don’t want anyone to feel left out or get mad, but we just can’t do it all. Especially with three small kids now. It’s stressful trying to make a plan for the holidays knowing in the back of my mind that someone is going to be unhappy with us no matter what, and if they’re not and we do get it all in then it’s physically exhausting for all of us and I don’t get to enjoy the holidays at all. Still, I make the plan for the actual holiday and the days leading up to it. I try and get in looking at Christmas lights, hot cocoa and Christmas movies, and doing something special just our family before the craziness starts.

Making holiday magic is incredibly draining. Making plans, thinking of personalized gift ideas, buying the gifts, wrapping them, decorating, and making everyones family happy, which for me seems like an impossible feat these days. It’s stressful and the days leading up to Christmas I am overwhelmed and panicking and the days following I just collapse into myself. This isn’t even including Thanksgiving, which for the past few years we have done at home alone, with my parents coming at some point, and me cooking a full Thanksgiving dinner. Which I’m sure is upsetting for a lot of people that we do it alone, but I just do not have the mental, physical, or emotional capacity to do it and I hope they can understand that.

My favorite Christmas this far has been the one where we stayed at home. I’m sorry if that seems selfish, but it was my favorite. We made cookies on Christmas Eve and decorated them then watched movies and drank cocoa. Then on Christmas Day we woke up and opened presents, made pizzas for lunch, and I made a special Christmas dinner. My favorite by far.

We are desperately trying to create our own traditions these days. Which in itself is kind of difficult because I want to build traditions that we can sustain forever. What we have landed on thus far is getting the kids hot cocoa and pajamas that they get to open on Christmas Eve morning. Joseph and I also get pajamas, they don’t have to be matching but we have done matching family pajamas. We put cookie and milk in the fridge and leave Santa a note that it’s in there. Then we go to my families house and partake in all those family traditions. When we return home I sneak into the house and drink the milk and eat the cookie and leave the plate on the table for the kids to see and then put out Santa presents. It’s important to me that our kids only get one small present from Santa because I don’t ever want other children to feel like they weren’t important enough to get a lot of a big present from Santa. Then the kids come into the house and we open presents and then we get to relax the rest of the day and play with presents they got. And that’s it for our own concrete traditions. I sometimes make cookies though. I really like cookies. And hot cocoa. I like to slip hot cocoa in there if I can. I deserve it.

What are some of your traditions? What plans work for you? Am I crazy in thinking that the holidays are stressful? Do you go to more than one place for the holidays or stay home? How do you handle being military during the holidays if you’re a military family? Let me know.

With love,

Your stressed out motherhood introvert

P.S. The attached gingerbread house was made several weeks after Christmas, it didn’t get eaten, and the icing wouldn’t stick at all. I also don’t remember ever making a gingerbread house before that one.

• 

I’m going to take another blog post, another day, to be really real with you guys. I had another hard, shitty week. Not for the same reasons, but crappy just the same. I’m felt less alone this week, but another hard week, and when I started writing this it was Thursday if that gives you any indication of where this week is at.

I haven’t been getting much sleep. And I know a lot of people are going to think “well you have a newborn so that’s to be expected no reason to complain”. The thing about that though is, he’s been sleeping. He’s been sleeping really well actually (knock on wood). I however have not been sleeping well. The past week or so the baby has been having 4-6 hour stretches of sleep with me, more often than not, having to wake him up to eat so that he doesn’t get dehydrated or overly hungry and hurt my nipples. I mean, good for that guy that he gets to sleep though am I right?

So I haven’t been getting sleep and then on top of that, I had my service wide exam on Wednesday. For those who don’t know what that is, (I’m expecting that’s most of you), it’s a test you have to take that ultimately determines if I get promoted (advance) to make more money. So I had this test on Wednesday that I had to study for. I had studied a lot before maternity leave, but obviously hadn’t really had much time to after the baby arrived. Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday I kept trying to study to no avail. I really tried, but it is incredibly difficult to do when your husband has homework, your two toddlers decide to alternate between screaming and sitting next to you asking endless questions, and you have a hungry and sometimes grumpy baby that doesn’t like to be put down. On top of that one of those days, an incident with a woman in the CG getting masted came to light that really tore me for reasons that I probably shouldn’t get into and probably shouldn’t even bring it up at all but, it really upset me and made my week worse. Anyway, the less I got to study for my test the more stressed I became about how I would do on Wednesday when the test day rolled around. Then Tuesday Joe managed to distract the kids for a little while in the guest room/playroom so I could study. That made me feel really guilty though so I couldn’t focus as much I wanted to, but I tried. Baby Joey was also cluster feeding on Tuesday topping the day off with over 3 hours of feeding when he usually averages a little less than 2.5 hours of feeding. I also had my postpartum appointment that day which I guess was good because my doctor is awesome and I got cleared and then went on my merry little way. I tried to study again Tuesday night and early Wednesday morning but didn’t really get much done. The good news I guess is that I feel like I did ok on my test, especially considering the handfuls I was juggling.

We also decided this week to completely cut out TV for the kids, so they’ve been decidedly more rambunctious and rebellious. It has made life harder to not be able to just toss them in front of the TV for a break sometimes, and we aren’t those parents that are completely against screen time, but it needed to be done. Let me explain. Mark is OBSESSED with TV. He wasn’t playing with toys anymore, wasn’t doing his learning activities, didn’t want to play outside, and didn’t want to sleep. He just wanted TV. It was at a point where he would wake up at 4 AM just to sneak out to the living room and watch TV and he wouldn’t stop watching all day despite us turning it off he would just turn it back on. He’s a very intelligent child so it was time to knock that off and we have to do things with him full swing one way or the other or he doesn’t get it. So we decided it was best to just take a break so maybe he can get out of this phase and back into what he used to enjoy doing. It also opened up a door for us to spend more actual quality time together, sit and talk to each other, really enjoy each other’s company, have fun, and have some family time. I’ll also admit that Mark’s Netflix usage is really annoying because he feels the need to pick a new show every 20 minutes so my “continue watching” list is like 12 pages long.

Anyway, while I was relieved my test was over on Wednesday night, we had a couple of incidents that really put a damper on that night. First off, I was exhausted and have been getting terrible headaches for weeks with no medical explanation, though I think it’s probably due to the lack of sleep. So I’m at home, tired and relaxing with the kids while Joe is shooting golf balls in the garage. Marks starts acting all crazy, not listening, and pulling dangerous stunts off the couch so I yelled at him, which made the baby start screaming bloody murder because his poor little ears couldn’t take the sound. So now I’m feeling bad for losing my cool when Rose accidentally smacks the baby in his soft spot while flailing her arms around. Now he’s crying harder, obviously, and I’m feeling like the worst mom in the world. I call Joe back into the house and start going through my mental checklist of steps to makes sure the baby is ok. His eyes are dilating fine, he stopped crying, he seemed completely normal and fell back asleep within like 5 minutes unfazed, but then I touched his soft spot to check it. It felt really caved in to me so I immediately called the doctor who pretty much told me he should be fine, babies are resilient and to just feed him and keep an eye on him. I tried to feed him and he wouldn’t eat and his soft spot really just didn’t feel right to me. Now I’m panicking, I’m crying, I’m the absolute worst mom alive. I set alarms for every hour and a half all night to make sure he was ok and not getting dehydrated. He was fine, but I was absolutely exhausted come Thursday morning.

Thursday morning rolls around and I got like maybe an hour of sleep after everyone woke up before Mark decided to stomp around outside my bedroom door to wake me up and then I got greeted with a child wanting a boob. I went through all day exhausted despite having three large coffees. By Thursday night around 8 or 9 PM, I really was just not feeling well. I was feeling really weak and ended up having a slight fever of 99.7 before bed. Really just not doing great but waking up every few hours to feed the baby anyway, obviously because he still needs to eat and breastmilk shares antibodies so I hear so it was important for me to know he was getting my antibodies while I was sick. The next day I felt really sick and was in bed until about 8 or 9 PM again and Joe was on his own for the most part, at least with the older two, the majority of the day. Luckily by bedtime, my fever was gone and I was feeling pretty great, aside from being tired, again. But a special thank you to whoever got me sick ( I don’t this person or their name) in the one time that I left my house and didn’t wear a mask so that I could take my test without having fogged up glasses (we were like 4 feet apart and were allowed to take off our masks for the test so don’t yell at me I’m literally so cautious all the time except this one occasion so that I could see). What a great time. Great people.

Friday wasn’t a great day to start off with so I guess being sick was just the icing on the cake. See, we lost my grandpa on that day 15 years ago and I always take it really hard. It’s a sad day for me. A day I still mourn on. A day I think too much and cry too hard. So being sick really just topped it off for me. Friday just really sucked. I knew going into the week it was going to suck, but it was obviously worse than anticipated.

When Saturday rolled around I was hopeful that I would have one good day. Unfortunately, it didn’t turn out that way. I don’t want to discuss but it just wasn’t a good day for me. I ended the week tired and just completely ready for the week to be over. I’m glad that I had Joe to hold my hand through this one because thankfully that’s all I needed this time. Here’s to this week to come being better I guess. Here’s to no incidents, more sleep, and just an all together better week. And if you too had a bad week last week, I hope this one is better for you too. Whether a good or bad week last week, I think we all deserve a good one this week. A relaxing one.

Much love and much luck,

Your exhausted motherhood introvert