Magic Mmmm Monday?

You know those pictures that photographers are doing right now with baby girls?  Where the baby girl is surrounded by all the boys in her family who are holding signs that say if you mess with her you have to go through each of them.  I even saw one picture where the dad was in it holding a shotgun over his shoulder.  Fine.  I have no issue with that.  I guess.  BUT.  Why can't it be like, "If you mess with her, she's going to fuck you up herself because we (mom included) are going to teach her how to be a badass." 

Eh, but anyway.

Speaking of children, let me give you some advice.  Gather 'round, now.  It's easy advice, and it's this:  TRAVEL THEN HAVE KIDS.  Oh my god.  We're trying to start planning some version of a honeymoon, which for us involves Paris, France.  We've attached some kind of meaning to it over the years, and I think if we go anywhere else at this point, we'll just be upset that it's not Paris.  I emailed some dates to a travel agent friend who basically wrote that she recommends a longer length of time, and without that, she thinks this isn't the trip for us to take right now.  God damn it.  She's right.  A trip all the way to France that is less than a week may in fact be too much jet lag and too overwhelming.  But, to have this experience and not continue to wait indefinitely, it's kind of all we've got.  Plus, we've at least both already been there, so some of the touristy shit is already done.  I kind of just want Joe to take me around the town and woo me.  Let's walk around, eat some good food, hit some wineries, go up in the tower, go up to Orleans and see where Joe went to school for a year.  And then come the hell on home. 

People without kids will say that your kid will be fine.  And most likely your kid will be, so long as you can find a grandparent off work that can watch them for the duration of your trip.  But what non-parents can't know.  Because you just don't know this until you have a kid, which is where my erroneous thinking began in "oh we'll still be able to travel after we have kids" is that yes, you can find a way to be able to travel.  But as much as your kid rips through your sanity day after day after day, you will not want to be away from them for very long.  Maybe I'll feel differently when she's older.  In like ten years.  But right now, the thought of being away from her for the recommended week and a half to take a proper trip strikes fear and sadness into my heart.  One, because I'll miss her.  Two, because I didn't see this coming.  Three, duh. 

So that's that.  I had sad time earlier when I realized that I've planned my life a little backwards.  But I'm fucking 30 now and trying to appreciate what I do have more, so enough of that; I can still have a kid and take a trip.  But if you do not yet have kids, than take your trip now.  Do that.

Well, Fuck You, Family

Dinner tonight.  This day.  This week.  Garbage.  I was hoping this was going to be a post about how nice the weekend was.  How I finished the race and had a great time in St. Louis.  Instead, it's about the end result of being home all week with a quarantined kid as she gets over a virus and goes insane, thus making me insane.  Today has really been the cherry on top of a shit sundae.  My kid has wanted to be held most of the day and would cry when I put her down.  Even if I was right.fucking.there.beside.her.

Who do I have to call and commiserate?  I dunno.  I called Joe at one point and cried.  I had decided that fuck the virus, we were gonna go to the library.  So we did.  It wasn't bad.  But she was pissed off toward the end.  Tried to melt down in the library, uh, foyer?  Whatever the opening area is.  So I carried her out and listened to her whine/cry on the way home.  Finally arriving home, I thought we were free until I came in to see that dogs had destroyed one more goddamn thing, and I swear to jebus I think I blacked out.  I lost my shit on those dogs.  And then I called Joe in tears.  Because he knows the situation better than anyone, and he's my husband, partner, best friend.  All of that stupid bullshit.

Well, he apparently was having a bad day.  Because he came home and instead of being our calming force, has just been pissed off.  Which is awesome.  He decided that despite it being the only thing that has calmed Maddie down at times today, he would not pick her up.  He didn't want to set a precedent.  UM, FUCKING PICK HER UP.  WE ARE ON A SINKING SHIP, MAN.  So I got to continue to listen to whining and crying just as I had all day, with the added bonus of another strung out adult.  Basically, this amazing energy was present into and throughout dinner, after which I locked myself in the bedroom where I am currently.

I am in the red zone, y'all.  I don't know if Maddie is reacting to being home all week when we've previously had a pretty set schedule of things outside the home or something else is wrong with her physically aside from the cough.  Or, if god forbid she is reacting to the fact that we left her with her grandmother for an overnight on Saturday.  Whatever it is, she is going to preschool in the morning and getting back on track.

Honestly, I have no idea what I'm doing as a parent, and I'm going to honestly say that it isn't so enjoyable right now.  It's been a struggle more than just this week.  More like the last couple of months.  Last night I looked back on pictures, and I remember that Maddie was a pretty chill little baby, even with the GERD.  As she started walking, we still had a good time, and then somewhere around 18-20 months maybe a change started to occur.  This change has evolved into where we are now.  I've got a mom friend who warned me that this is the most un-fun time she has experienced so far with her children.  But that it gets better.  So that gives me hope.  I try to play with Maddie and interact, but I swear as soon as I do that, she's onto the next thing or pissed off at what I'm doing.  There is no pleasing her. 

And so today, I leave you with this - Reasons why my child cried today:
- She wanted picked up x1000.
- She wanted her spoon back (that was taken away due to the aggressive nature with which it was being used).
- She didn't want me to keep her from trying to climb over the railing from the second floor of the library.
- She wanted (but was not allowed) to watch 800 episodes of Shaun the Sheep.
- She was watching Shaun the Sheep.
- I made her stop pulling on me while I was trying to read the recipe for dinner.  SO I COULD FEED US.
- She dropped her water.
- I had to make her lunch.
- I brushed her teeth.
- She dropped a bottle of tylenol that I let her shake.
- She woke up from her nap.
- I changed her diaper.
- Her straw was taken away from her due to the aggressive nature with which it was being used.
- I wouldn't let her walk on the dry erase board while I was cleaning it off for her to draw on.
- She was taken to her room to get ready for bed.  (Just heard this.)

And so on...

Hand to Butt

We're pre-potty training.  I've heard that once you're full on potty training, it only takes like a week or less to complete the mission.  That's how I know we're not there yet.  We have a lot of false alarms and only a couple times a day of actually going in the potty.  Forget about night time.  Throughout all of this, I've never had anything click in my head along the lines of "oh yeah, other parents told me that every time the diaper came off, their kid put their hands in their butt."  So I was unprepared for that part of this and find myself constantly saying, "we don't put our hands in our butt."  Gah.  Add that to the list of shit no one told me.

Other than that, and Tyga's "Bitch Betta Have My Money" blasted loudly from another gas station patron while I was filling up WITH MY TWO YEAR OLD earlier, the day is kind of the usual for Thursday.  We hit story time and the grocery store earlier.  Did lunch and now it's nap time.  I have a plan for dinner, and at some point either before or after we eat, we're gonna do our final training run all together.  Joe will of course push Maddie. 

That said, we just have one more full day left before the half marathon.  SHIT SHIT SHIT.  I've been trying to keep my water intake up all week, but have to especially watch that starting like now.  No more booze until it's over, and no excessive amounts of coffee.  Trying to eat clean, but sweets keep being brought (by others) into the house.  Tonight I'll have a little more dandelion root tea before bed to help detox.  I'm still unsure of tomorrow's dinner, but I'll figure it out.  I learned the hard way that in fact you cannot eat (even small portions) of crap food the night before a long run.  Shakespeare's Pizza is why my first attempt at 10 miles got shortened to six and ended with a call to Joe requesting an immediate pick up.  I know I can finish the half marathon, but I really want to run the whole thing without stopping, so I'm trying to put myself in the best possible position to do that. 

Joe is running with me, and I can't decide if that's a good or bad thing.  Aside from two other runs (plus tonight's), I've done all my training runs by myself.  I can run my own pace and not worry about others.  I will say that it was nice to run with Joe last week during our "family run," but I also know that he can probably do a half about 30 minutes faster than I can.  If he starts distracting me because he's going too slow for his own good and thus becomes bored, I'll have to send him on his way.  Just as long as he's there for me at the finish.

Then, once the race is over, we can officially start the fun birthday weekend!  I've never been much for birthday numbers, etc, but 30 is surprising me with the meaning I realize I'm attaching to it.  I think it will prove good for my/our future.   

Indecision

Well, we're moving toward my final hour of Maddie being at Little One's Day Out today.  I swear it goes by so fast.  I can't decide if I want (really, it's a need) to go grocery shopping or clothes shopping (also a need if I'm going to look like not a jackass this weekend as I celebrate hitting 30).  Meh.  I may just do neither.  I have one more LODO morning...Friday, but I'm trying to schedule a hair cut for that time.  With an eccentric lady.  In a basement.  I got hung up on the first time.  I'm sure it'll be a tremendous hair cut.

I guess my hair doesn't really need to be cut, but my nearly 30 self has realized this: I don't look good with long hair.  So I never wear it down.  I would like to wear it down this weekend and feel good about it.  Yes, this weekend is about feeling empowered.  Or something.  I turn 30 on Sunday.  On Saturday I'm running a half marathon.  You know, a final nod (middle finger?) to my 20s.  However, on my 3-mile run earlier today I wondered what exactly the fuck I'm doing this for.  Why am I not just gonna go booze it up somewhere??  Eh.  I already paid the $55 registration fee, Joe too, so we're doing it.  His mom will be here to watch Maddie, and so after the race on Saturday and brief rest (passing out?), we're going to head to St. Louis.  I am going to eat Pho Grand until I freaking puke.  If it's even still open.  I should google that.  So yeah, I'd like to look good while I pig out. 

Hilariously, since we never do anything fun, I decided last year that I'd grab 30 by the balls and told Joe that I wanted to go to NYC for my birthday.  HAHAHA.  Then he changed jobs, and we spent all our money on a move.  Briefly we thought Chicago would be doable.  Can drive there, no plane tickets.  Well.  We're now doing STL.  Oh well.  My birthdays are...a source of...irritation?...resentment?  (PS.  Lily just called back, and basement hair cut is a go.)  Over the last few years, I have spent a birthday deathly ill in a Georgia hotel with the flu waiting for Joe to be released from training so that we could go back to MO and move our shit to GA.  I've spent it with psych hospital coworkers while Joe was deployed.  I've lost a couple years, last year, and 2011 (six days after Maddie came home from the hospital) where I don't remember what we did.  And one year I had to work late at the psych hospital because I was working with a new idiot doctor who didn't know what he was doing, which caused me to miss my surprise party.  So yeah.  I guess if St. Louis goes well, it will still be better than these past years, though I'll argue that 2011 was just fine because my kid was finally home.  Oh, and finishing the half marathon without stopping will be pretty badass too.  I can't wait for my medal and t-shirt.  I guess it's not just a nod to my 20s but more like passing the baton from 20s to 30s.  And hopefully leaving some demons behind.

Okay, I think I need to make a decision, and I think I'm going to go shop for myself.  Um.  What styles are in?  Shit.  I don't know how to dress myself.

From May to September

So much for a come back.  I'm pretty sure this is about to be a full scale mom blog.  I mean, it's really all I have.  There really isn't much room for anything else.  Shit, I can't even drink a cup of coffee without random crap being dipped into it nowadays.  Motherhood is my life.  Being a spouse is my life.  And I'm okay with that.  Right? 

After the adrenaline stopped pumping - leading up to the move, getting us through it (it was horrific), and landing here on (mostly our feet), I hit a wall.  I feel like I'm moving through it. I feel like I can see the light.  I'm suddenly planted somewhere, somewhere that I can just live.  No more waiting to get out of the Army or waiting to get out of Arizona.  We are where we want to be.  Right?  There is a bit of waiting in that Joe's job is commission-based, and we're waiting to not be poor.  Money sucks.  It makes it hard to fully enjoy being where I want to be.  On top of that, I have a two year old now.  In every sense of the word.  She's exploring and eager to learn and touch every new thing, but she doesn't have the language to fully share all her feelings regarding this exploration.  SO SHE FREAKS THE FUCK OUT.  A lot.  I question my abilities as a mother pretty regularly.  Sometimes I think I wasn't meant to be one because it seems like a good mother wouldn't feel like she didn't want to be around her kid.  Even though I know that sentiment is one that is shared among many mothers.  Still, it's tough to look at your day ahead, know it's going to be nuts and dread it, and then not feel a little bad about dreading spending time with your own kid.  Or rather, spending time alone with your own kid.  When I have a buffer/helper, I like her much, much more.  Don't get me wrong, I love her.  I love the tiny moments where it's awesome.  But the hitting tantrums because I won't let her throw apples at the dog or because she cannot scale the living room wall, those I could do without.

And then there's the marriage of two people who have just moved, one of whom has started a new job, and both parents of the aforementioned two year old.  Yeah, you can imagine.  Something along the lines of, The thrill is gone, baby.  In this sort of darkness I've been in, I've wanted more than I think Joe can give me.  Even if I directly say, I want tulips.  Surprise me with flowers.  I don't get them.  I'll hear that he tried to set something up and that it failed.  He tried to find tulips but couldn't.  He tried to make a massage appointment, but it fell apart.  I don't know if that's okay.  I guess it has to be.  But sometimes, I do wonder what life would be like if I had not followed him into the Army.  Where would I be if I'd stayed behind and accepted my very first social work job offer at a company that other MSWs loved.  Where would I be now?  Would I still be with Joe?  Still have Maddie?  Of course, I don't have the answer.  I've made it here - with husband and child (who is absolutely screaming back in her crib by the way....not sure if she ever napped...we're doing a new nap-striking thing everysingledaynow). 

So what now?

My kid is awake and pantsless.  I must see the rest of this day through.  Oh god.