One More Mommy

Thoughts of a mom and her husband, son, daughter, pets, friends, job (or lack thereof), house, family, trying to be more ecologically aware...

Monday, January 29, 2007

It has been reached

Get. It. Out.

It's that time. Time when labor sounds better than continued pregnancy. Time to move on, this stage is sucking. HELL-O! Time to have a baby.

And yet, I am only 35ish weeks, which means that even with early inducement, I have four weeks to go.



I want everything in the house done and yet I can't seem to do anything.

I want to hold my baby (and yet am very freaked out by the managing-two proposition).

I want to sleep and yet everything hurts (note: I have gained 32 pounds still, which is a good deal less than I had with Luke, and yet, it feels like more this time in the aches in my back and inability to sleep.)

And yes, I refer to my beloved child as an 'it'.

I would like to have conversations with people, but thinking on topics other than "Get. It. Out." requires massive focus. Which I have none of.

People. Insane.

Over at Suburban Bliss, Melissa was on the Today show talking about cocktail playdates. Here's the article. I've been "amusing" myself reading the comments (I slept until FOUR THIRTY, WHOOT!) this morning.

People are insane. Which is most of what I have to say about that. Here are my favorite quotes, with some of my commentary (sorry I'm not citing well here...):
You can socialize when they get older. (Now you should be an automaton caring for your children and they should NOT see you having fun with people other than them.)

The mother's you showed on the show today were not working mother's. All they have to do is care for their families. (Judgemental much? Me thinks this woman did NOT spend hours with children on a cranky day, debating whether or not they'll behave well enough for you to get through the grocery store...)

I hope that her children don't grow up thinking that their mommy needs to drink because of them. Maybe she should have thought about how important drinking was to her before she got pregnant. (This just reminded me that I wanted to get Luke the shirt "Mommy drinks because I cry.")

As a psychologist, I know openly drinking will plant the idea in the young child's mind that drinking is acceptable. (Because what we want to teach them is that drinking is NEVER ACCEPTABLE! DON'T DO IT! And then, when they have the opportunity, it is near irresistable, and they have no information or reality.)

When I think coctails, I think Martini's and hard liquor. I think a glass of wine is another story. (And what about a beer? A margarita? Rum punch? Isn't the point that responsible adults know what they're doing?)

look at those children... they are all looking at the "beverages" that the mom's have. They are enthralled by it. And now let me just say that imitation is suppose to be the best form of flatery, but in this case I don't think it would be flatery at all. Children will grow up and learn from what they see their parents do. (Same as above - the point being, if you drink in front of your kids, you don't have a problem with drinking in general. So this point is moot.)

The ironic thing is, due to these few glasses of wine and pitchers of beer, are the main reason these kids are around in the first place. (Hee! That was just funny!)

Who is going to take responsibility for the children ? One drink turns into two then six. (Someone failed math.)

I think this is actually worst than spanking! because after they are done drinking they drive back home drunk or with alcohol in their bodies which can cause accidents and kill innocent people!!!! (Have these people never had A drink?? What the hell?)


Okay, so people are also MORONS. I 'love' the judgemental attitude these people display, and also their insanity. Particularly the fact that children imitate their parents and THEY MIGHT HAVE ALCOHOL LATER! Never alter your existence, get high on frickin' life, perhaps with exercise, your body is a TEMPLE and you must provide a good EXAMPLE for your children.

And it's not nice to judge other people, think about setting that example.

I'm tired of there being one high and mighty, "doctor" approved way to live. The therapist Dr Janet seen in the video clip is so damn condescending about finding another way to be social - acceptable outlets, you know. Drink on your own time, get a babysitter.

For most of us, there is precious little 'own time' away from the children and out with friends. Working and Stay-at-home both, you are either AT work, or WITH your children. No mother I know WANTS to get drunk because we all know we're going to be up at some god-forsaken hour with the children and doing that with a hangover (because you've gotten a babysitter! And drank away from your kids!) and four or five hours sleep is hellish. And then we spend time feeling guilty because they're watching too much TV.

For God's sake, we feel guilty when they watch too much TV because we're SICK from a cold or flu, or in my current case, PREGNANT.

I was thinking more on this, and I actually find it disturbing that people think that their lives should revolve around their children. To be a solid member of society, children have to learn that the world DOES NOT revolve around them, that other people have personalities, quirks, flaws, opinions, and theirs do not take precedence.

Sunday, January 28, 2007

Collecting Twigs

Me: Our house looks like crap! Nothing's ever finished! *sob*
Esposo: Yes, dear.

(one hour later)

Me: This could be nesting...
Esposo: Ya think? I could've told you that, but I didn't want to say anything.

Me(thinking): and now you said something. Asshole.

Friday, January 26, 2007

Hello 2AM, It is not good to see you again

I really hate insomnia. I especially hate waking up at 2 AM two nights in a row and feeling crappy and tired, but you know, my bosy is preparing for lack of sleep when the baby comes, right? Stupid body! Store up now!!

Of course, my happy-tastic dream of soldiers stranded on an island ended when the submarine came to save them. They swam out to the sub to get in and were being eaten by sharks when I woke up. I must say, all those special effects in various movies have stuck with me well.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Bear Down, Chicago Bears

The Bears! Made it to the SuperBowl!! Esposo and I took advantage of free grandparental babysitting to hang out with friends and watch the game on Sunday. It was fabulous, both the hanging out sans child and the game. There was some ill advised jumping on my part (note to self - you are eight months pregnant. No jumping.), nachos consumption, swearing at Rex, and elated disbelief as it became more obvious that the BEARS were going to the SUPERBOWL!

The women in my moms group are mostly transplants and not football watchers, so when someone asked who was hosting the game, and another followed with a comment about needing to watch the commercials, I knew I would be nowhere near these people during the game.

Did I mention that it's the BEARS? In the SUPERBOWL?

Now, when it comes to my football teams (The Illini and the Bears, that's it), I can become a tad bit obsessed. It's easy to ignore the Illini because they suck 9 out of 10 years, and yes, I'm fair weather fan enough that I'm not spending time watching them lose each week, but the Bears have been taunting us for the past 5 or 6 years. I don't claim to know all the players names, the stats, or remember amazing plays (though that touchdown catch on Sunday might stick with me for awhile). But during the games I can get rather intensely into the football - for my teams.

Which means that during the commercials of the SuperBowl? I will be peeing. I will be talking. I will not be watching for the sake of the commercials, and I'm going to a SuperBowl party to watch the game with like minded, screamingly insane fans of the Bears. We will mock the Colts. We will watch the plays. I will physically shake if it's a close, tense game. My heart will race.

This is not a 'just for the commercials' kind of year.

It's the Bears.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Eleven Days

Tomorrow marks 34 weeks into this pregnancy, with only 5 left until inducement. I'm on a two week schedule with the doctor now, and in the past eleven days since my last appointment, my scale says I've gained six pounds, which calculates out to eating 1900 extra calories a day. Which is roughly twice as much as a woman needs (depending on her weight) to maintain. Whatever you're eating, imagine doubling it. I'm not eating that much, so I know it's related to water, but good grief is it annoying. I've had two full glasses of water by 7:20 this morning, so hopefully in a couple days I'll flush this out!!

Friday, January 19, 2007

Thought Train

*sigh* Someone else is trying to sell me stuff.

No one is selling Avon!

It's not all bad...

I like Tastefully Simple products.

There's a leftover cheeseball in my fridge.

Parker Lewis Can't Lose

I can't remember ever thinking about Parker Lewis Can't Lose since it was on TV... and yet, last night, I did.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Pitter Pat

Luke is extremely mobile, and we don't have gates anywhere in our house. He goes up and down stairs whenever he wants and we don't follow him. This means that we often hear his stomping feet running without knowing exactly where he is. Whoever talked about the pitter pat of little feet must have had a well insulated house.

Early this morning, about 4:30 AM, we heard that pitter pat. After waiting a moment for Luke to arrive in our bedroom, we both realized that he had gone downstairs and was wandering around in the dark. Esposo went to go find him and bring him back to bed.

On Monday evening, I was on the computer upstairs and Luke was playing in the hall, laughing and running. It's hard to resist the laughter and Esposo came upstairs to see what was going on. He found Luke using the dog as a tunnel over and over again. When the dog lay down, Luke commanded that she get up so he could continue this game. The dog was not harmed during tunnel play :)

On Tuesday evening, Esposo was upstairs with Luke while I rested downstairs (pregnancy is giving me great muscle pains, which I didn't have with Luke). This time I heard and was drawn to the laughter, and I found Luke running naked from one end of the hall to the other. When he saw me, he threw up his arms and yelled "I NEKKID!". I immediately flashed forward 18 years to his college parties...

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

The Process

Luke is getting into mid toddlerdom. It's not like I can prop him in front of a toy and he'll be intrigued for a half hour any more, he needs INTERACTION. He's developing his creativity and imagination, mostly by doing things with his cars.

I've been intent on learning how to provide Luke with opportunities to learn and explore, and have been listening to people who have degrees in the toddler mindset. They've told me that art in toddler world is about the exploration of materials and how they interact, how can the child cause something to look and feel different, not a product. You know, it's about THE PROCESS.

So I dutifully ran off to the craft store and bought foam, paper, stickers, paint, pompoms, popsicle sticks, and glue. Luke and I sat down today and "explored".

Oh, exploring.

Exploring seemed to involve a lot of yelling at me for not doing it right. We used sticks to paint the paper, but when I tried to encourage fingerpainting, Luke yelled. We glued scraps to paper, and then Luke removed them all. We stuck stickers on paper, and then Luke removed them all. As an end product, I'm left with a somewhat sticky piece of foam with paint on it. I'm not looking for a product to look like something SPECIFIC, but the disassembling of the potential product disheartens me.

"See those glue spots? He had put four squares in a line. But he ripped them up."

And still, we chugged along creatively for awhile, until he attempted to move about a bit more - covered in paint and glue and stickers - and stopped being willing to allow me to assist him in any way. So creative craft time was abruptly cut short, and tears and screaming ensued as I washed him off.

I hope The Process gets less difficult.

Monday, January 15, 2007


I am rapidly approaching the point in pregnancy where I don't want to go anywhere. When I was this pregnant with Luke (or, in a week or so), I was turning down holiday parties, because holy crap that's exhausting whenyou're really freaking pregnant. I mean, please just leave me alone.

Of course, that was when everyone we knew only got together after 7 or 8 PM, and I could easily beg off on drink-fests because dude, AM PREGNANT and FREAKING TIRED. Now, I know people who have kids and they are doing things at reasonable times of the day for me, except that they require me being social.

I am not a social extremely pregnant person. By that last month, I'd rather be alone than be hoisting myself out of awkward seated positions in public. I've got heartburn all-the-freaking-time, so no food tastes great. Pardon me while I go lie in bad and shred newspaper to make my nest...

Friday, January 12, 2007

I Remember Animals

My mother has had two of her cats succumb to illness, and is planning on getting another cat to keep the remaining cat company. If you haven't adopted from a shelter lately, you might not know that they screen people a bit harder than they used to. One of the questions asks the potential adopter to list all the animals they have had in their adult life.


My father was a bit of an animal collector, and would show up (or in one case, SHIP home) random animals. I had several hamsters as a child obtained from, for all I know, the Hamster Underground. These were not happy pets. There were a few dogs rotating in and out for awhile, and cats? Oh, the cats. And guinea pigs. Rabbits. Mice. Hermit Crabs. A bird.

In conversation about these animals, my mother decided to selectively report the animals she's had in her adult life, because how do you explain that your husband was slightly nutty and well, you did what you could for whatever animal showed up. And sometimes, it wasn't enough to save them from a manual garage door. Basically, she's going to talk about the animals she's had after his death, all of whom died of natural causes or with veterinary assistance to ease suffering.

As we talked, I kept bringing up stories about the hamsters, the guinea pigs, etc etc, things my mother had forgotten. Because, I'm sure they weren't the monumental events that they were to me as a child - a HAMSTER had TWLEVE BABIES! And then she ate nine of them. It makes an impression.

Like Ringworm

There are people in this world who drive me crazy. Lots and lots of them. One of the worst categories is those that think they are 'spayshul'. THEY shouldn't have to adhere to the rules of society, because they're DIFFERENT and they have SPAYSHUL circumstances. The world has been unfair to them in some way - they don't make enough money, or there was a traumatic event, or someone taught them that if you're loud enough for long enough people will give you want you want to shut you up already.

Yes, you can have bad things happen, and yes, some people make more money and can afford better things than you, but my mommy always taught me that 'fair' is a four letter word. It's not a good word, it's not something you can actually achieve. You can try, and when someone tries to be 'fair' with you, you should damn well appreciate it.

I really enjoy Freecycle, and whenever I have something that someone might be able to use and maybe the goodwill trucks won't pick up, I'll offer things up on freecycle. But that place is filled with people and their sob stories, wanting something for free. Freecycle is a simple message board where you can post up "offers" and "wanteds". And not infrequently, you will see:

"Wanted: Working car" (actual post)

"Wanted: Working color TV, 20" or larger" (actual post)

"Wanted: Working laptop" (actual post)

"Wanted: Gamecube" (actual post)

"Wanted: Toddler Car Seat in good condition" (actual post)

These are big ticket items that people expect people to hand over free, to strangers. While sometimes big items are OFFERED, I find it awfully presumptuous to head to Freecycle and ASK for people to hand it over. And often to repeatedly post begging for the same item.

When I did a search on the site to find annoying wanted posts, I was surprised but not shocked to find that the person who has inspired my current "spayshul" rant has a list of wanted posts a mile long. She begs for items of clothing and baby supplies, and also for a connection cable for her RAZR phone (that thar is a pricey piece of equipment). I judge, I judge, one should not judge... and yet, she's a member of our mommy group and all I've seen her do with the group is ask for free stuff, take free tickets to a show that another mother generously offered, and attend a free workshop. And oh yeah, she hasn't mustered up the $10 YEARLY dues the group requires. So I judge that she screams 'freeloader' in loud, bold letters. I'm SPAYSHUL, give me free stuff!

It irks me like a persistent parasite.

And since I link to this blog from my mommy board, there is a possibility that she could read this. Just so you know that I know this.

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Constant Flux

I think I've mentioned before the rush I get in getting rid of things from our house. It's absurd how often I get to have that rush, though, because at some point there should be less things, right? Except there aren't. It seems that every. single. time. my mother comes to my house se has a bag of stuff for us. A good sized shopping bag. What the hell, woman? She lives twenty minutes away and we see her every other week at a bare minimum. Seriously, what does she collect? I can't even tell you what comes to our house in those bags... I don't know...

I don't shop much. Right now I'm shopping for accessories for our so-very-close-to-done bathroom like towels and bath mats. These don't take up room in the house because they are going into a room that currently doesn't have these things.

I do some stupid things, though, like taking back the bunk bed set my brother used as a child that my mom's friend had borrowed. Luke will want a bunk bed, though, and this is a free one, in good condition. We can put it in the attic for a few years and no one will know! Of course, it's in the garage now, taking up massive amounts of space. And the family that had borrowed it returned it with two twin mattresses. Crap! We have twin mattresses! So now I am working on getting those moved out. (I just freecycled one to an odd man who kept trying to sell me things... Did I want multivitamins? A car bed? Did I need new siding on my house? While the dog's new penchant for howling has been annoying most times, this time she got a treat for keeping it up while the weirdo was outside.)

Do other people have this problem of stuff moving in?

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Before I Forget

Luke is becoming quite proficient at his shapes, except, I thought, for rectangles. He kept calling them triangles, and I would correct him, no, that's a rectangle. But he calls them RED triangles. Which is just his way of saying rectangle, which is really dang cute.

Today we were flipping through a book of animals, which starts with a page of 'sheep', 'pig' and 'cow' and moves into 'Apatosaurus', 'Brachiosaurus', and 'Pteranodon'. Luke was gamely saying the names of the dinosaurs after me, until I got to T.Rex.

Mommy: "That's a Tyrannosaurus Rex. Can you say Tyrannosaurus Rex?"

(pause. Thinking.)

Luke: "That's a big dinosaur."

Indeed it is.


My high school was on the Tonight Show at one point, sometime in the 90's. See, we had a motto, and that motto was printed up on a flyer or pamphlet, except they printed it as "Where Excellance is Tradition!"... in case you don't get it, because you're one of the millions of people who can't spell, excellence is spelled wrong...

I was reminded of this as I went through the grocery store ads and saw that if you buy 12 LEAN CUISINE entrees this week, you can get two gallons of ice cream free!! Seemed a little incongruous to me!!


I read blogs and articles all over the internet and I read about the 'Mommy Wars' phenomenon. I read about women who compete over what their children know and learn and lord it over others that their children don't eat McDonalds, or never watch television, and I think how awful it would be to be exposed to people like that. Because even if the moms in my group drive me batty, I don't see us trying to one-up each other on how clean our houses are or how smart our kids are. If anything, we commiserate, the latest conversation revolving around worst mother award. And even better, well, it will be good in a few months, these women drink. Because I highly believe in the restorative powers of alcohol with friends - I'll be forever grateful to my grandmother for always showing me in her attitude that life is short, have a beer.

I struggle with my lack of ambition, knowing that my father would want me to do more, knowing that HE wanted to do more but didn't get the opportunity. I sense that my brother is confused by my complacency as well, though his goal has been clearly defined by the structure of the field of medicine. And I always come back to my grandmother and think, Would I be more impressed by her if she had worked? and my answer is always No, because she knew how to LAUGH.

I hope I can always keep that attitude in parenting, because knowing that life isn't so serious is the best way to get through it all, I think. And thankfully, I seem to have found people who understand that on their functional level.

Tuesday, January 09, 2007

In Charge

There have been a few times in my life where I've been in charge of organizing and coordinating people to do things. In college, this involved mentioning that there would be a) pizza, or b) beer, or c) both. You'd think I'm kidding, but looking back, it was truly pathetic what college students would do for pizza. Beer, i understand, but pizza? We ate the stuff 10 times a week. It amused me as we got older and people realized that they didn't necessarily have to STAY at a lecture on the formation of crystalline structures and it's application in manufacturing (hee, I just typed manufucturing...) novelty dog poop to get the pizza. It was even more amusing when my friend would show up with a pizza he blatantly TOOK fom a meeting.

Nowadays, I just try to organize a mom's group.

Which is like trying to herd, um, things that are notoriously difficult to herd. What things are notoriously difficult to herd?

Our group consists of working and Stay At Home Moms. And people with toddlers, infants, and early school age children. Did you realize that every child in the world is on a different 'nap schedule' from every other child in the world? And that there are 5 conflicting ideas for every 4 people? So trying to 'get a feel' for when to do things or what to do makes me want to run full speed, head down, into a brick wall.

I learned to stop asking so much.

And yet, every so often, someone will ask, 'What about this?' on our internet message board, and there pops up a discussion about times and places and costs and who works when until I want to scream. Tough shit you can't make it, that's life... I think Frank Sinatra sang a song once about life.

And all that is fine, and I can deal with that crap, because at least people are just trying to accomodate everyone and make it a happy happy inclusive event. And I believe in inclusivity. Especially in a big group, I don't want to exclude anyone who I may not like or who is currently driving me crazy (which is a fairly long list, which is why I think I am antisocial. If I were more social, I would find out more stupid things people are doing or saying.), it's all good because we're ADULTS, right? We get along with people because that's POLITE and you are always CHOOSING where you are, right?

I am wrong on that point, because the internet mom world is as crazy as high school, and I wasn't in any of the 'Mean Girls' cliques in high school. I floated through there kind of doing my own thing, and aside from one or two instances freshman year, everyone let me do my own thing. As far as I know there were no particular rumors about me, and I didn't start any about any other girls.

So now I am occasionally faced with these nutjob women and mostly I just walk away, because they're crazy.

Thursday, January 04, 2007

Good Night

It's 8:30 or 9 PM on any given night and I'm ready to turn in for a good night's sleep. I hop into my pajamas, which are just larger than the size I usually wear and the waistband settles on top of my tummy and the pants slide right up my ass. And that's why you don't just buy 'a few sizes larger' for clothes during pregnancy...

I crawl into bed and shut my eyes. Pregnancy makes your skin stretch and feel drier, and it's midwinter, so I'm an itchy mess.

itch. scratch. itch. itch. scratchscratchscratch.

Right side first. *thump*thump*thump*thud*kick*WHACK*

Fine, kid, left side.

Pillow between the legs, under the boobs, under the belly.


Heartburn. BURNING. BURNING. Ah, subsiding.

itch. Scratch.


AGH, IT'S TOO HOT! - Kick off covers, then try to wad covers into a more ideal belly/boobs/leg support.


Roll on back... think SCIATIC NERVE SCIATIC NERVE! Pressure on your sciatic nerve in the back sleep position during pregnancy = apocalypse!! Or something like that. Try shoving pillow under on side of the back to provide support/angle.

Back to left side (ideal for blood supply to baby). Husband is LOOOOOOKING at me. Roll to right side to avoid creepy face to face sleeping.

ooh, chilly. Under covers...

Sleep finally shows up... a few hours later.

Have to pee have to pee have to pee. Don't want to get up don't want to get up don't want to get up... agh, get up and go pee.

Aaaaand, repeat.

Tuesday, January 02, 2007


I've actually been trying to THINK about a post rather than just brain farting when I get five minutes at the computer, and yet, I don't think it's going to turn out any better than usual. The kid that refused to nap and fought naps and finally we just tossed them out the window because they weren't WORKING for us? Well, he decided for most of the weekend that he needed to take naps. Which is all well and good, except that it means we were up at 5:45 this morning because he was done with the sleeping.

We watched some Dora, because it's too freaking dark outside to really get moving when you don't have a specific place to be, and I used the Dora time to shower. And then I tried to plan out what we need to get at the grocery store, which coincided with the screaming about where I was sitting. Invariably, in the wrong spot, even if I was sitting where he had commanded that I sit. This went on for half an hour or more, who the hell knows, and sucked all my motivation from me.

But, I have started my New Year's Resolution list. I'm trying to come up with the rest, but so far I have:

1. Have a baby.
2. Lose baby weight (considerably harder than #1).