i shot guns and stuff
crap. i owe this blog a serious update of massive proportions.
but it’s not going to happen today. i’d like for it to happen today, but i just don’t have it in me.
after 2 weeks of being gone and sleeping in more locations than i can remember, crying way more than an obscene amount, and then returning home… i find myself depleted in every way.
this last week has sucked in ways that have taken a toll on me mentally, emotionally and physically. i wasn’t prepared for any of this, but neither was my dear college roommate, em, who lost her sister at 18 and is now being the rock for her grieving family to rest on.
em- i love you so much and i am always here for you.
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so yeah, the holiday was good. jackson was spoiled rotten. his loot of gifts had to be shipped back home because there was too much to fit in our luggage.
paul and my father-in-law taught me how to shoot a gun, which i swore to myself i would never do. i’ll most likely never do it again, but had my own reasons for learning and accomplished my goal. hell, i even shot a tin bowling pin target thingy down. entirely by accident… but still.
the holiday is kind of this whirlwind that’s in the back of my mind.
did it really happen?
holidays with a child who has both sets of grandparents in the same city is both a blessing and a curse. you (the primary caregiver) bring your “work” with you over the holidays and it’s never as relaxing as you may have hoped. at least it’s not for me. it was wonderful to have 4 loving grandparents and 2 uncles to occupy jackson, babysit and dote on him for two solid weeks. however, now i am at home with a tantrum-driven, (nearly) 21 month old who has been given everything he has asked for… and sometimes i say “no.”
so between the crocodile tears and pretzel throwing and door banging, i wonder where the hell the holiday went.
and new years… when did it become 2010?
new years eve was spent with one of my six former roommates on night-duty over em and her parents after we buried her sister that morning.
i’ll never forget rubbing em’s mom’s feet with vick’s vapo-rub and placing warm socks on her in an attempt to get her to relax enough to sleep a few hours.
i’ll never forget it because i was exactly where i was supposed to be.
em- i love you so much and i’m always here for you.
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i have a ton of family pictures to share. a lot of great stories. but for now this post will have to do, because i really need a nap.
ps- thanks to all of you who have sent such loving comments, facebook messages, tweets and emails. the comments on each of my posts close after 5 days, so for those of you who emailed me because you couldn’t comment the last few days, i thank you for your persistence and kindness.
things i wish i knew before i had a baby (post-baby-bod version)
i thought of this post while sitting on the toilet last night. fear not, it was only a # 1 and not a #2. nevertheless, i was on the pot, taking my last pee time before turning in for bed, when i did something that prompted this post.
i bent in half to finish peeing.
there, i said it. i put my head to my knees, while sitting on the toilet and bent my upper body in 1/2 in order to fully empty my bladder. usually this keeps me from getting up in the middle of the night to pee, but not always. i do this all the time… the bend in half thing. i’ve done this for the last (almost) 19 months since the magoo.
and so doing this, once again, last night, got me thinking…
in terms of body-issues, vanity, bodily functions (basically leaving the emotions and gushy unconditional love stuff out of the equation), what do you wish you had known before you had a baby???
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i asked my mother, my sage, about this very thing a few months ago… the pee thing. we were in a restaurant, and both of us had gone to “powder our noses” at the same time. while in my stall and mom in her’s, knowing hoping no one else was in the restroom with us, i asked her point blank, as i bent my upper body in half.
“do you have to bend in half to totally pee??? like… TOTALLY pee…”
she laughed in the stall next to me, flushed and said, “yup, that’s whatcha do after you have kids. sorry to say.”
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thinking about the fact that i have to now bend my upper body in half while sitting on the throne of glory in order to fully empty my bladder, led me to consider other bodyish thoughts… and i realized there are TONS of things i wish i had known about my body, and what would happen to it, as a result of having a baby.
****WARNING: some of the information below may be considered TMI; however, i’m assuming those of you who are already parents, regardless of whether you are the mother or the father, are well-versed in this stuff… those of you who are parents-to-be, well… you may want to close your browsers if you’d rather just figure things out on your own. lastly, dads, please feel free to jump in with thoughts, wishes of your own.****
now for me, i obviously wish i had known that i would have to bend in half for the rest of my adult life in order to fully empty my bladder.
i wish i had known that regardless of how long a mother nurses her child (should you choose to be a nursing mother), the saggy post-nursing boobs you gain will cause this ring of sweat underneath your boobs that always makes me feel like i need to wear a sports bra to absorb the excess sweat. this also means that i constantly occasionally battle the saggy post-nursing boobs pimples due to the sweat.
i wish i had known that regardless of whether you have a vaginal delivery or a c-section, your belly will NEVER be what it once was, unless you have eleventy-and-ten dollars to spend on a personal trainer and chef. (and chances are, if you find your new family with additional funds at the end of each month, those monies will most likely NOT be spent on a personal trainer nor a chef, but on diapers and wipes and diaper genie liner refills.)
i wish i had known that i will always have (what i call) my “belly-on-belly”… this is the upper portion of my belly that includes my belly button and then folds where my c-section scar is and poofs out below, thereby creating the lower belly. though i am a size 6-8 (a 6 on VERY good days that consist of me eating VERY little due to running around with the magoo and forgetting to eat) and i stand 5 ft 9 in tall, i will always have the “belly-on-belly.”
i can’t speak for those who have blasted babies out of their vag because the 9 lb 6 oz magoo was cut and delivered out of my abdomen, but i fully encourage those of you who have delivered vaginally to explicity share TMI details for all to benefit from.
i, for one, am very interested to hear about vaginal deliveries and the aftermath of your body (ok, your vag) should our next child be a vbac baby (vaginal birth after cesarian).
****NOTE: this is in NO way meant to imply that we are even CONSIDERING getting pregnant with our second ANY time soon. the question is posed to simply serve the purpose of conversation and sharing of experiences. (sorry mom.)****
to continue… i wish i had known that my post-baby body would require so much caffeine to get through the day that the amount of money our family spends on coffee, sugar and coffee creamer would equal the amount that we spend on diapers.
i wish i had known what partially digested hypoallergenic formula smelled like and felt like when regergitated on my body repeatedly; especially when i found said partially digested hypoallergenic formula down my shirt, my sports bra, dried and crusted on my neck, and occasionally in my hair. (it should go without saying that i also wish i knew how much that formula would cost.)
alright… that’s what i’ve got so far… and now i have to go run after the magoo…
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so play the vanity game along with me and share what you wish you had known before you had a baby (post-baby-bod version.) the more explicit, the better!!!
STOP
sometimes i can’t turn my brain off. i skip from one thought to the next without entirely finishing the original thought. i can’t relax. i can’t slow down… my head. i can’t slow my mind down and just be. it’s like my mind continually thinks “what’s next…”
i saw a therapist after i was raped who attempted to help me deal with my PTSD. this therapist told me that when my brain starts to think things that i don’t want to think, i should envision a big red STOP sign… and visualizing that STOP sign would deter me from continuing my previous thought process.
now, almost 9 years post-rape, i roll my eyes at that bullshit i was told.
because here i am, in the month… THE MONTH. my PTSD is through the goddamn roof, my anxiety level is off the charts. it just is. i cannot be talked out of it. i cannot be STOP-signed out of it. it’s here.
for now.
i never know how long it’ll stick around for. like always, some days are better than others… but at night especially, i cannot turn my brain off and sleep soundly.
i wake up with sore muscles because my body has been clenched all night long. paul tried to pop my back the other day and couldn’t because my back was too tight. i mean christ, my 6 ft 6 husband could not crack my back.
*shaking my head at myself*
i grind my teeth… horribly. i purposely avoid going to the dentist because i’m afraid of being told that i will be toothless by the time i’m 30 at the rate i’m going.
i try to focus on things that distract me from my constant level of high anxiety and stress. i focus on jackson… on his hair… his smile. and when i do that, i feel my heart rate slow down.
but then my mind wanders to the things that need to get done: the laundry that is still sitting in the dryer, the bed that hasn’t been made, the dishes on the counter from last night… and the fact that i have no plan for dinner this evening. and my mind takes over and grasps hold of me, unwilling to let go. parasitic.
STOP.
the STOP sign bullshit worked for a little while. i think… at that time, my mind would wander a lot. i didn’t know exactly what took place during my rape because i had been drugged.
it was haunting. it still haunts me… the not knowing. so i used to envision these awful, horrific things happening to me. images would enter my mind that now make me wretch.
STOP.
so here i am, 9 years later… still with sweaty palms, the occasional (or not so occasional) panic attacks, shortness of breath, heart palpitations that would put an ankle-biting yorkie to shame, fear of venturing outside my cave and leaving the apartment, desiring to curl up in a ball and remain in bed til it passes…
but even though i lay in bed, my mind still keeps going. i can’t stop it. i cannot escape it. my mind keeps listing and listing and thinking and planning and wondering and imagining and and and…
STOP.
heavy
i am feeling the weight on my shoulders. it’s not visible, nor can it be taken off of me and placed on to someone else. but it’s heavy. and it’s beginning to weigh me down.
the anticipation of september has arrived early for me this year, for what reason i do not know. but i hate it and its weight.
i hate the entire month of september and wish it were permanently wiped off the calendar.
it’s not usually until the last few days of august that i start to feel the weight; the shoulders tense up, the anxiety, the shortness of breath, the desire to stay indoors and hibernate. insomnia sets in as my mind races and recalls.
for some reason, this has already begun.
the heavy has hit.
my grandfather died 17 years ago in september. not a day goes by still that i don’t think of him. jackson’s middle name is Ray because of this wonderful man who died september 8, 1992. a picture of poppy reading to me as a child sits on jackson’s bookshelf in honor of my grandfather, my son’s namesake. and i see it every day. i smile at it every day. i miss him every day.
and then there’s the terrorist attacks our country endured on september 11, 2001. while i consider myself lucky enough to not have lost a loved one on that particular day, the date will always resonate in my mind. i will think of those who did lose loved ones on that day, because of those attacks; and my heart will ache for them. my husband serves in the military, and with that comes a constant anxiety that he can be called away at a moment’s notice should he be needed.
i was raped on september 26, 2000. though i have gained such strength in sharing my story and purging myself of the shame i have felt for the last 9 years… that date will always be ugly to me. unveiling that part of who i am, the survivor within me, answering questions from readers, and truly owning what happened to me has been a good thing. the PTSD i still suffer from especially during the month of september, is not.
i don’t want the heavy to come yet. i’m not ready. but it’s here… weighing me down like a cold, wet blanket.
wake me up when september ends
Have a Sip
