Sunday, April 22, 2012

Get Outta My Way

Ok--wow, so like 2 weeks have gone by since my last post. But I can get a few more in April :)

Firstly, I am pregnant. And that is really a prizewinning spot in my brain right now. Pregnant. Pregnant. The morning I found out I looked at hubby in church (he was not accepting it yet) and said, "What have we done?" It will be our last, I don't think that I should put my diabetic body through this again, and I picture us with two children. I guess. Or something like that. But bottom line is, I actually have a really strong dislike for the Duggars that, if you like them, you should not address with me as I will probably offend you. And B, (was there an A) I find no appeal in having lots of kids. And lots to me is like....3 or 4. Whatever outnumbers the parents.

If we want to have more children, we will have to bring another wife into the picture, and I don't believe I could be "down" with that.

Inevitably I feel a little sorry for myself pregnant. I feel, "why can't I be normal? Why can't I be healthy? Why can't I be gorgeous like some pregnant women are?" And then I just punch myself for all that self pity and pray to God furiously that I can enjoy the pregnancy. After all, I love Baby S SOOO much. My life is enriched with her. And Baby....um....X? Ok, I'll call #2 X for a little while. Well, Baby X will again add a world of hope and love and make my days even more of an adventure. That's the awesome thing about babies. You do (sometimes, when you're not chasing them around or begging them to GET OFF THE FLOOR at Target at 8:30 at night because they saw cookies) see the world through their eyes, and see things you forgot to see in your jaded, grown up, far too cosmpolitan adult world.

I was pretty slick at one point. I'm a multiple-language-speaking, healthy-and-gourmet-food eating, travelled around the world, educated kind of gal. I sometimes think of that when I realize I'm accidentally wearing Mrs. Lovett's bright red lipstick because I grabbed it out of the closet too fast and look like a freaking clown. Everyone wants to elevate their own life choices. I see facebook posts about people who seem to be honoring themselves as saints because they chose a life of raising kids, or promoting themselves as rockstars because they are in good shape and recycle.

I am annoyed by everyone right now.

I am not nauseous or tired excessively. Maybe a little. The main sign my pregnancy is still "happening" is that I haven't seen a monthly visitor in over a month and my blood sugars are C L I M B I N G in a way that makes me squirm. As soon as pregnancy kicks in for me, its sidekick INSULIN RESISTANCE is close behind, flipping me off and calling me fat. INSULIN RESISTANCE for me has become like a comic book super villain, with a little handlebar mustache and a tight-fitting yellow spandex outfit which stretches perversely across his skinny legs and shimmers in the sun when he laughs mercilessly at my having to prick my fingers until they bleed 5 times a day. I probably should be doing 7. *sigh*.

I hate that guy.

So I know the day I conceived. Hubby and I were fooling around and I said, "I could get pregnant, you know, if we don't use any birth control. I'm ovulating." and he said, "Do you think it could be a boy?" and I laughed and then we made that odd decision. And 10 days later my insulin shot up and I started hiccuping. And now, interestingly, all that depression over a sunken career is kinda ....like a sepia toned background.

I am suddenly wanting to write and record music. Maybe my preggo self should record an album this summer. What the hell. I've given up on trying to figure out the stuff I should be doing. Now we're just flying by the seat of our pants.

I'm hoping that the best decisions you make are often the mistakes. The impulsive silly things that slightly alter the course enough to make it fun. Yes?

Monday, April 9, 2012

Goodness Me


It was a rough night. Something small set me off, and again I felt like my life was in a place I feel--ashamed of? I can't put my finger on it. I slept upstairs, which hubby didn't like that much, but upstairs the bed is right near the window. I open it, even on a chilly night, and I sleep better, like camping.

This morning I was 3 pounds heavier. One week of being depressed and I am 3 pounds heavier. That is something I have yet to be able to change.

Hubby is only half way through his work week, which started 5 days ago, so I feel like a tired single mom.

Ugh, and so I don't think it's wise to be depressed this morning. I think there is only one thing to do with a morning like this.

A gratitude list. I'm going to go for .....9, since it's April 9th.


1. I am grateful for the church we went to yesterday. I realllly liked it, and it made me aware of real spiritual things for the first time in a year? Wow, no wonder I've been suffering. I miss you, Jesus, I really do. My heart is one big stone right now, and I felt like yesterday morning, the stone melted, just a bit. Just enough to not feel like any answers would come.

2. I am grateful that I am a gifted singer. If I never make a year's salary on it, if I never sing for an "A" budget opera house, if most of the career is marked by frustration, I am grateful for this voice, and this gift, and the joy that it has and will bring me.

3. I am grateful for a healthy daughter. I am grateful that she is strong and whole and brilliant, and knows most of her ABCs, and hugs and kisses me every day and is a perfect tie between my hubby and me. I am grateful for her even when I want to drop kick her across the living room. (I don't, but I kinda want to sometimes).

4. I am grateful for Spring. I love the way it looks and feels and smells outside, it is bright and hopeful. God promises me Spring will come again, and that in itself is reassuring. It's a hopeful cycle outside and I love it.

5. I am grateful that my husband loves me all the time. He does not do dishes enough, he leaves his socks in the living room, and he shuts me out when he plays video games. But his entire life involves loving me. I thought yesterday that marrying him was obviously a moment of God helping me make a decision. Because my decisions alone are never that good.

6. I am grateful for vegetables. I am grateful that there's always something I can eat that won't wreak havoc on my sugars or my cholesterol or my weight. Vegetables, God bless ya.

7. I am grateful for my students. I have 37 reasons why I am not a housewife. There are many people who feel blessed by being a housewife. I am not one of them. I need something else. Thank you, students, for keeping me busy and tired in a good way.

8. I am grateful for my mustard seed. I have ONLY that for most things. I have only the tiniest little fall-between-your-fingers faith that someday I could sing professionally, or lose my weight, or live somewhere I feel I belong again (well, I have more faith for that) or that God is real and cares about things like my blog. But all I need is that tiny, tiny bit of hope. I am grateful for it.

9. I feel like this last one needs to be good....but I am not sure what would be a great ending. I guess I'm grateful for summer plans. A recital to plan for my students, a trip to Phoenix in June, a trip to Michigan in July, and a birthday party in August. I am grateful for something to do that isn't wondering why I can't sing anywhere.

That feels better.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Well, this is bizarre. It's coming up on midnight and I'm awake, while Baby S and hubby are sleeping. I am usually the 1st or 2nd of this group to fall asleep, and so it feels strange to be alone here in the living room without hubby being at work. It's Thursday night, so the intense part of the week (the part where students seem to be all day long) are over. For the next two days I teach 2 students a day, so I'm feeling a bit better.

It's a strange stage for our little family. Hubby doesn't like his job, but he still has it. We don't feel he's making a lot, he works all the time with literally no control over "suprise" changes in his schedule, and never knows when the next punishing meeting will come. He finds everything monotonous, but we are not sure.....how to get him out? Just applying for jobs in this country right now is not enough, we must find an edge.

So then there's me. I have an incredibly successful teaching studio right now. I have no idea how that happened. I love my students, but it's hard to handle tax-time, it's hard to figure out what to do with the baby, and being a full time stay at home mom while I work this many hours a week seems...um....impossible. On top of that, I feel so sad to not have any singing possibilities. I sent something in to a midwestern agent this week--but used a "name" (so and so recommended you) in the letter that I now realize is probably hated among most people. Did I ruin my own letter?

Ok, so then there's Baby S, who cries at her daycare all the time. I drop her off, she cries. And she loves babysitters, she loves the nursery at church....why does she hate the day and a half of daycare that she does. Do I need to find a new one? No one takes part-time toddlers!!!! arrrgh.

So we need some nice new opportunities, some changers. and....if possible a LEETLE EENSY TEENY BIT of good news? Nice.

Our house is full of cookies tonight, baked by hubby for the kids with cancer bakesale this weekend. Baby S is meeting the Easter Bunny (curious to see how that goes) and I can't wait to sleep in tomorrow (for 30 extra minutes).

And....I guess I'll go see if Hubby left any room on my side of the bed.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Nighty Night Little Chicha

Since losing the binky, we now have a complex system for putting the 2 1/2 year old to sleep.

Here's how it goes:

We set a goal. Get her to bed by 9, she'll be asleep by 9:30. That means the process needs to start at 8:45.

1. She chooses two books. One is for each parent to read. She also delegates the reading. Usually, I get stuck with this horrible "Magical Moments Look and Find" book, where she finds things belonging to Princesses in a "where's Waldo" type setting. She has memorized where everything is. So....it's not really look and find. But she feels a great sense of accomplishment when she points at stuff.

2. Hubby's turn. He usually gets a narrative type book. Favorites include "Elmo's Counting Game", "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie", "How Do Dinosaurs Say Goodnight", and Hubby's favorite "The Monster at the End of This Book."

(I usually hope she'll pick a Richard Scary).

3. We walk to bed carrying the blanket of her choice (she is VERY specific about blankets each night), also possible are her Minnie Mouse doll and possibly a sippy cup.

4. We stop at the potty, which inevitably involves prying her off of the sink.

5. One of us puts her in the bed. She asks us to "put my blanket on".

6. I sit next to the bed and read, YES, a THIRD BOOK. This one has to be short. It's usually "Grover's Guide to Good Manners" or "Special Pet".

7. I fimly say that is the last book as she requests others. She says, "Rock you mommy?" and I say, "No, I don't have time to rock you tonight hun." She is disappointed and shows it. I give her a book to hold in bed and she protests it (but if I don't she'll ask me for one later). I turn music on, and her "small" light.

8. I leave the room and listen to her pretend to read books and/or sing along with the music until she passes out.

9. I go crazy, imagining all the things I can do with this childless hour! Then I pass out from exhaustion.

Monday, April 2, 2012

Beautiful Road

I had one of those days today where I experimented in my head with various titles to Blog posts. i have no idea why I do this, as most do not make them into any sort of concrete form. I guess I'm just trying to title my life, so to speak.


I will go backwards, how's that? My first title is "Being A Newswife". It involves sitting next to my husband on one of the few days he has off, while he's reading through work emails????? and he says randomly, "ugh. I have a meeting with (insert Boss's name) and (insert Boss's right-hand-man's name) at 12:30 on the day I get back to work." We know this could mean a sudden firing. It could mean screaming. it could mean being blindsided about something that he knew nothing about. It could mean a promotion, it could mean a temporary ANYTHING. But until Wednesday, I won't sleep well. Because in the News, the possibility always lurks that they will mercilessly axe you for almost no reason. And hubby says he doesn't feel like talking about it.



I also thought I could title this "Against the Grain" because I find myself constantly analyzing if my child is somehow not culturally "normal". Um, this means that I do NOT want her to be normal. I want her to be brilliant and quirky, and not too popular, and way more spiritual than her schoolmates, and not someone who picks on or is picked on too much. And I keep hearing these "alternative" ways to raise your children, and I just think, "WHO has this kind of energy?" I am now teaching 32-37 students a week, raising a child with just 1.5 days of daycare a week, managing a house (which has people in it almost every day), working a side job for extra cash, and budgeting a family who has almost nothin' to budget. Most nights, I don't even remember going to sleep. If she eats, and poops, and is relatively clean, and learning things, and does something besides the TV, I'm pretty happy. She likes to pray. All of that seems like good enough mothering, right?



I thought I'd title this, "Slow and Steady Sucks" because I have lost 10 pounds in a year. Is that a victory? It feels like nothing, but my clothes from last summer are looser. I am not just the turtle in the race...I'm the turtle with 3 broken legs. I was thinking next year of giving up DIETING for lent, as it's something that obsesses me so much it's hard to be good at anything else.



And speaking of lent, I think this whole thing is bogus. People are always giving up stuff that has side benefits. For example, you give up meat, your health improves. You never hear anyone say "i'm giving up sex" or "i'm giving up brushing my teeth." Come ON, if you're going to give up something for God, it should hurt more than sugar.



So the last one, "Dust" or "Why Nothing Makes Me Feel Better". I am dusting off, trying desperately to forget failure. Why can't I do it? Why can't i scrap this one day? ARRRGH. I hate hearing about someone else's situation being worse than mine. I simply feel terrible for them. I am assured the world is just crappy for all of us. I just need to hear a bunch of victory stories. They fell down, they got up again, and a new beautiful road emerged.