Working Mom Vs. Stay At Home Mom

That right there, is like one of the ultimate wars NEVER talked about. Pretty much everybody sits on one side of the fence or the other...I, of course, being a moderate, fall in the middle of the argument.

I want so badly to have been home with Eli for the last 6 weeks. Going back to work when he was 6 weeks old, was one of the hardest decisions of my life. You never know or realize how hard the decision is going to be until you make it. I never cried so much before in my life. (And, I had already cried hard through the first 3 weeks of breastfeeding.) It was so heartbreaking for me to go through, because all I wanted to do was sit at home with Eli, play with him, feed him, make faces at him, and work on personal things for myself. However, when its a matter of playing with him vs. him having diapers, I choose my kid having diapers. After the last six weeks of working, I can't say its any easier, its only more tolerable. Some things have changed at the job, and as of this week, I get three days off a week, which i'm thrilled about, because it equals more Eli time! (Yay!) But, I there are some realities I've come to terms with in six weeks.

-Working at home will not be a real option for a long while, at least not without a babysitter.

Let's face reality, when you are home, your child wants to be with YOU. They don't want to be home with you, while you shush them 90 bajillion times because you are trying to answer phones, read e-mails, and do other job-related things. Sooo, in reality, my genius plan of being a stay at home working mom, doesn't really compute in my head. Some things I am able to accomplish from home, so I debate about doing those things part-time, but I have to see how those work out, before I reveal more. No need to get overly excited...

- However, not working at all, is not an option, at least not in my case. And, in a shocker, it have nothing to do with finances, and much more to do with the long haul. If I take an extended period of time off, I might as well start from scratch with my education when Eli hits kindergarten. So, in order to avoid having to go through school, or having to work at crappy jobs to make a living, i'm going to try to get to the point where financially, we may be able to afford for me to only have to work part-time, so that I can be home with Eli a lot for a few years, but I don't lose out on good opportunities to further a career. I dunno, its all a work in progress.

Look, i'm not knocking one or the other in terms of what a mom chooses to do when it comes to life with a child. Life with a kid is not easy. A kid sucks up your life. It changes your life completely. Its much easier to stay kidless if you do not want to have to work your schedule around something that relies on you for the first four years of his or her life and then can suddenly turn on you for the next 13 - 15 years afterwards. The reality, is that you can't have your kid be the center of your life, because what the hell do you do, when they don't need you anymore. And, that point comes, eventually. We all have to suck it up and grow up. You teach your kids a lot about life. They teach you a lot more about life. A lot more than you expect and could ever ask for.

Being a mom is amazing. I love every second of it, and I look forward to all the joys and heartaches that are headed my way, because each one of them is going to make my kid and myself better people. Its why its hard working outside the home 40 hours a week. I miss being able to see life from his perspective a lot. But, you get breathing room working outside the home. You learn how to not be attached to the hip. Its still hard. There are still days i'm not sure i've made the right decision. But, 2/3rds of motherhood is leaping. Its hoping like hell, that you are doing the right thing, for your kid's sake and your own.

The Self - Improvement Quest - Post-Partum Update

Ok, not gonna lie, I really didn't think I was going to be writing this soon about self-improvement. I pretty much figured that I was going to be writing at the end of the year, about how there's always next year. I'm shocked to discover that I'm not! Yay!

K, here we go...

-Career Development

This out of everything has to be the exciting improvement! I got another job!! Yay! A job I like!! Yay! A job that only lasts until the end of January!! Uhh, awwwwwww. Oh well. Its another job. A job I like or at the very least, can tolerate. It makes me decent money. It gets me away from the ugly trend I've had over the last 2 1/2 to 3 years of taking crappy ass jobs because I needed the money and didn't really have a choice, because the economy sucked and everybody was competing for the jobs I wanted the most. Of course, I'm a mom now, and its amazing how much your priorities change in 9 months. I was devastated, heartbroken, over the loss of my radio career, and at a loss as to what I was going to do about it, because if I wasn't in radio, then who was I? Like, seriously, that was my attitude about it. I still think things happen for a reason, even if it takes a while for those things to happen. Maybe I was too into the whole working thing. I mean, I have to work, money is important if you want to do things, like take care of your child. It just doesn't have to be my whole life. More importantly, I don't want it to be my whole life. Like I was telling E (the runner) yesterday, I would like a job that pays decent, has decent benefits, and allows me the luxury of taking a week of paid vacation once in a while. While this job only lasts until January, there is the potential that I could turn this around in my favor and turn it into a permanent job. I did it with radio, not to mention several other jobs. The key is to get my foot in the door. My foot's in, now I've just got 4 months to prove myself.

-Financial Stability

This is the area that has improved the least since I wrote my mid-year update. Financially, we are technically barely keeping our heads above water, which sucks. Our saving grace was the simply fact that Ray makes good money and that I scrimped and saved before I went on maternity leave so that we would have gift cards and cash to fall back on when we really needed it. But, it still hurts to be out of work for 6 weeks or so, and then have Ray's paycheck take a beating because of the stupid weather (torrential rain = no work in Ray's world), so that hurt a lot. But, our kid has had food, diapers and wipes, which is like the big three of things they require most in baby world. It hasn't been easy, but I think by the end of the year, we'll back on a more even keel, especially since i'm making more money then what I was making before I went on maternity leave.

-Health and Wellness

This one is another shocker for me. Five weeks after birth and I'm back down to my pre-pregnancy weight! HOLY CRAP!! No seriously, you have no idea how excited I am about this. Couple this with the fact that my pre-pregnancy weight is the lowest I've weighed since I've graduated from college, and I'm setting a good trend for my future endeavor of losing some serious weight over the next year or so. I'm doing really well with my eating habits, continuing my trend of eating well-rounded, colorful meals and drinking LOTS of water, and very little other things, though my caffeine intake has increased some, since well, I don't sleep much. That's my only problem to an extent right now, but its not really my fault or my kid's. Its just how things roll. As he gets older, i'll get to sleep more.

Exercise is of course lacking, since I went through vaginal labor and i'm not allowed to do anything strenuous without official clearance. Its fine, I go back to the doctor on the 22nd, when I should get clearance to exercise and go back to my yoga and start my year long goal of training to walk/run the Susan G. Komen Foundation 5k. I'm trying to be positive, and i'm not guaranteeing the 5k will happen, but we'll see what happens.

Stress-wise, things have improved ENORMOUSLY since giving birth. Its not perfect, but i'm more back to my normal stress level, which is pretty cool. I feel better about life in general, and things feel accomplish-able, which I haven't felt about life in a really long time. We'll see how things go once i'm back on birth control. The one i'm going on has the potential to make me a little bit loopy, but i'm crossing my fingers it will be temporary.

-Education

That whole goal has been completely turned upside down on its head. This is because my career goals have changed and all that good crap. I still want to go to Barnes and Noble and get a Ms. Fix it book I was told about that hooks you up with how to fix things around your home. I'm officially ready to research taking a cooking class to really learn how to cook "outside the box". My friend A, who's practically Suzy Homemaker, gets creative with her cooking, so my goal is to aspire to be her to an extent. Bacon-wrapped Asparagus is pretty frigging sweet, so i'm looking for a class that will allow me to expand my mind enough to make things besides Hamburger Helper and things of that nature. Oh, and the one other thing, a parenting class of some kind, I think mostly as a way to meet other mommies and also to prove to myself that i'm not completely screwing up my kid.

-Minimalization/Organization

Uuugh, this more than anything has crashed and burned like you wouldn't believe. Of course, you try having this tiny person that some days refuses to be with anyone else, but YOU! Its getting better though, but i'm not nearly as organized as I could be. Minimalization is easier, of course, because I get rid of lots of stuff everyday and as Eli grows out of stuff, i have a tendency to put it away for future use for others. I'm hoping by the end of the year I'll be back into the swing of things being able to organize my stuff and my life and packing things away and getting ready to move somewhere next year.

-Future plans

I haven't made many future plans over the last few years. I've never felt I've had the ability to, without paid vacation and making more than $8.00 an hour. Having had those two things potentially change, makes me want to plan for the future. Finalizing our moving plans, marriage in another year or two maybe, planning a major trip for me, my son and my mom to go to England, so that he can experience culture like I did when I was little. Going to Disney World, making plans for holidays, having fun, learning, exposing my son to the joys and heartbreaks of life. I'm really excited about my future...more than I have been in a really long time.

Breastfeeding...

is for the birds...seriously.

I'm a wimp. Its fine, whatever. I survived 37 hours of labor, 28 of it sitting at home, breathing it out WITHOUT meds mind you. So, my boobs, my heart and my kid could not take more than 11 days of breastfeeding. The litmus test for boobie feeding seems to be 3 months. My cousin lasted 7 weeks. Had I tried to do it for a month I might have had to cut my boobs off.

The first night, it seemed really easy. Eli and I seemed to get into a rhythm of things, he was feeding, I was feeding him, we were both really happy. Day two went really well too, he ate, slept and pooped. I ate and slept.

Then, there was night two. When suddenly, Eli had a fit. Its fine, to an extent, except that hearing my child SCREAM cry is not something I can remotely handle at all. It kills me quite frankly. I can deal with him crying in general, and I can deal with some moaning and whining, but screaming? Nope, not happening, breaks my heart. So, when he did it that night, and I couldn't seem to calm him down to save mine or his life, I freaked out. I was exhausted. They took him from me to do some tests and I slept while he was gone. When he came back, he was sleepy and so was I, but the nurse insisted that I had to feed my kid, who was asleep. It was a rather painful feeding and Eli seemed to struggle through it. Something was off from the night before.

The next day, the day we were released from the hospital was even worse. First off, they circumsized him, poor little guy. When they came to get him for his circumsision, they took him in the middle of a feeding, so he only got to eat for 15 minutes and was STILL HUNGRY! After they did that, he was obviously upset, but instead of bringing him back or waiting until I was done feeding him to take him, so that maybe he would've handled it a bit better, they gave him sugar water! WHY ARE YOU GIVING MY KID SUGAR WATER WITHOUT MY PERMISSION??? By the time they brought him back to me, 3 hours later (because he had to have other tests done), he was passed out from the stress of it all, and didn't want to eat. 2 hours later, Eli finally wakes up and he's PISSED! He's upset, i'm trying to eat and feed him, he seems to be having trouble latching on, and on top of that, he keeps pulling away from me and SCREAMING! Ack! I'm starting to freak out, because at the rate we are going, we are never going to be able to leave, because I can't feed my poor kid. On top of everything else, breastfeeding is a bit of an art form, and if your kid doesn't latch on right, you are asking for problems, i.e. my nips cracking! Owwwwwwwwwww! Some how or another we got through it, and made it home. That night was exhausting, with lots of crying on both his and my part, but we sorta made it through it.

Here was what pushed me over the edge...

1. My kid crying relentlessly and fighting me constantly to get on and off the boob. First, he'd cry to get on, then pull off and cry some more. Who has time for that fight?

2. Eli developed the worst diaper rash in the world. I mean, his butt turned bright red and it started blistering. My son literally scooted away from me at a week and a half old to have me avoid touching his ass with a diaper wipe. Ummm, I'm not sure that's entirely okay with me.

3. We had a 4 day stretch of the following scenario. 5 to 7 hours of...eat, poop, sleep for 10-25 minutes, wake up, scream to eat, poop, sleep, eat, poop, sleep, eat, poop, sleep...Don't get me wrong, babies eat, poop and sleep. That's what they do. Its fine. But doing it without a relentless break for hours on end. I'm sorry, i'm not a strong enough woman to do that. And quite frankly, neither are my boobs or Eli's little butt.

I finally relented when Ray lost his mind and told me to end it, because he couldn't take coming home and finding me and Eli both crying. Fix the problem. We first tried regular formula. That ended lovely when me and Ray took him to his first doctor's appointment, fed him while we waited for the doctor and then first had Eli spit up all over daddy and not just a little bit, but quite a bit, and then while Ray was cleaning himself up, had Eli spit up all over me...down my shirt by the way. The doctor was a bit concerned and suggested we try another formula. Ray went and bought soy and two days later, Eli's diaper rash cleared up, we had no more 5 hour stretches of relentless eating and both me and Eli started eating and sleeping better.

I understand the wonderfulness of breastfeeding, don't get me wrong. Its healthier for mommy and baby, its cheaper (to an extent), and a whole host of other things you get told when they are first trying to convince you to breastfeed. However, at the end of the day, I can't help but feel like the best decision I ever made for me and my son, was to switch to the bottle.

I never thought...

I'd have a child. There. I said it.

Most women, when they think about their future, usually have a long term plan. It usually involves, at the very least, a career of some kind, a place of their own to live in, friends, and eventually, co-habitation with a significant other, maybe leading to marriage and eventually, if you like them enough, kids. These last two things I pretty much planned on never happening to me.

Dating never happened much for me in high school or college. Most people who knew me I think got pretty used to me being perpetually single. This was not a bad thing necessarily. I did a lot of things, I had a lot of fun. But, was I lonely when I looked at my attached friends and knew I was going home to an empty bed? You bet I was. Sometimes, I felt like the loneliest person around. For goodness sakes, I was 26 years old and a virgin, so how attractive could I really be to the opposite sex? After a long time, I did my best to not worry about it, because what was the point? If I was meant to walk through this life alone, that was what I was meant to do.

I became further convinced of this, when I found out I had Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome or PCOS. Along with giving me the WORST menstrual cycles of my life, and potentially leading to other problems such as diabetes and high blood pressure, I was also told it would be next to impossible for me to conceive and carry a child. I hid my emotions at the time, because I was in college, but I was devastated. I would never have a child. Never be able to experience pregnancy. It is, in my opinion the most heartbreaking news a woman can receive in her life, especially, if eventually, even for a moment, she contemplated having kids.

So, I moved forward. What any normal person does their best to achieve when they are dealt that kind of news. I focused on finishing school, finding a career and trying to improve my financial situation, so I could eventually move out of my parents house and live on my own. You know, attempt to be a grown up. It wasn't easy. I wasn't making much money in my choice of career, even though I experienced some of the most amazing moments of my life at my job. Without making a lot of money, I had a lot of trouble moving out on my own and worked towards finding a second part-time job to help with the lack of money. I still had fun though. I went out with friends, I traveled some, I had experiences and adventures. I was happy, or as happy as I could imagine myself being.

Then, enter Ray. (i.e. the boy) Some people claim things happen for a reason. The other half of the world claims it's bahooey. I think things happen for a reason. Had I moved out of my parents house, would Ray and I have ever met? Or re-met, considering we went to the same elementary school, rode the same bus and the same middle school too. I don't know. It really doesn't do any good to play that game. But, we met or re-met. And, we started talking. I wasn't sure how I felt. I liked him, but getting my hopes up was normally reserved for things like Buy One, Get One Free Cupcake days, not for things like love. I had became very insistent that I was going to be alone, for well, ever. Ray changed that for me. I know its bad to an extent, but he helped me to believe that I was beautiful, worth going after, and lovable. He was, and still is, my comfort, my calm when chaos is reigning supreme. I can go to him, and talk to him, or sometimes not even talk, just sit and just be with him and things will be better or will get better eventually. That was the deciding factor, the final push I needed to know that in spite of my own emotional misgivings, that I would find happiness with this person.

Don't get me wrong. Nothing is perfect, not even a relationship. Its good, its great even, its fun and exciting. Heartbreaking and unforgiving. You get in fights, say things you don't mean, sometime say things you do mean. You learn to live with a persons' good and bad parts. You know, all that crap. You go through the ups and downs, you have debates about changing things and improving your lives together. You find yourself making decisions together. You get happy when you feel things coming together.

And, then, you are thrown a loop, you'd never in a million years expect. Even weirder, when you make the discovery at your local Target bathroom, while your friend's two year old tries to peek under the door to find out what you are up to. A baby. Of course, I automatically think this is a joke, maybe a false positive (very rarely do those exist by the way). Instead, its a baby. Growing inside me. A person that Ray and I created together. I wouldn't have believed it, if I hadn't had it confirmed via ultrasound. I was still on birth control. (Because, obviously, YOU NEVER KNOW.) Again, things happening for a reason? I mean, a million in one shot almost. Yet, there I was, pregnant! HOLY CRAP!!

Pregnancy was really crazy. Overwhelming and stressful at some points. Hormonally deranged, terrifying, back and forth on what you want to do, how you handle things, how you REALLY feel about it. If your honest, you're excited, scared, shocked...there aren't enough words to describe the emotions. How could I not be overwhelmed? Then, the problems start. Gestational Diabetes, easy to manage once you know what you are doing. Then, concerns over his growth rate, which was smaller than expected. That made me cry. My little boy, smaller than what he should be. How could it be? I was trying to be so careful. I was trying so hard. How could this happen? Was he going to survive all this? Delivery, life outside the womb all together? Only one way to find out...

He was supposed to be arriving last Tuesday. He decided to start heading out last Sunday, and arrived last Monday, a week before his due date. 6 pounds, 11 oz. 20 inches long. A head full of hair just like me. He's little, so little, but he's strong. One hell of a temper. My little Elijah. Eli for short. Ray, me and Eli. A little group of 3. Ray loves him so much, he so proud to be a dad. I can't believe I'm a mom, especially to this little tiny bundle. I never thought I would have him, and I wasn't sure he was going to survive. But, he's here. And, I don't know how I've lived without him.

Reality Check...Part 2

REALITY: You will never be more terrified, excited or aflurry with as many emotions as you will be when you get ready to give birth to your child.

I'm crazy. I admit to it. I went to work, in spite of my better judgement, and was going along fine. Then came 5:45. And, an almost heart stopping braxton-hicks contraction. (I.E. False Labor) Oh, its fine, i'm cool. Almost an hour labor another heart stopping contraction. Come the third one in the 7:00 hour and it hits me...I am in the early stages of labor. Grrreeeeaaaaat!

Terrified. I'm going to completely mess up my child and destroy him some way or another. I don't know how, I just know I will. Oh sure, I've babysat. I worked in the kids camp at the YMCA. I took care of the boy's nephew all last year from 2 months on. But, i'm about to become a mom. Why in the world would God let ME become a mom?! I'm a walking disaster case. I'm selfish. I've only cared about my career before this point. My life will never be the same EVER AGAIN!

Excited. Oooh, he's finally almost here! Probably 24-36 hours at most! I finally will get to see my lil jellybean! I hope he's cute! I wonder if he'll have a lot of hair like me. Do I have everything? Did I take care of everything? I need my checklists! Do his laundry! Hell, maybe I should do my laundry! EEEEEEEEHHHHH!!!!

Anger. I need more time. Who the hell does this kid think he is? I'm not ready. The boy's not ready. WE are not ready for this! How dare he! (This emotion really only lasts about 5 seconds when you remind yourself its not your kids' fault he's coming into the world.)

Its all there. All these emotions. Spaz attack central. As of this point, we're estimating i've been in labor for just over 12 hours today. I'm still at home, obviously. They don't want me to go in until my contractions are 5 minutes apart for an hour. Right now, i'm at 23-25 minutes apart an hour. OMG! This is gonna take way too effing long. But, we are hitting the home stretch.

The Plight of Preggo...

So, as of today, i'm 38 weeks pregnant, making me REAAALY preggo at this point. I'm glad that this is almost over. Its exhausting. Like, more exhausting than you can imagine if you've never been through this before. There comes a certain point, where your done, then there comes the point when you are REALLY done, and you're ready for this to be over. Why?...

-You can't do things for yourself after a certain point...I know some people don't mind this, but for me, this is the most frustrating thing in the world. I HATE having to rely on other people to do basic things for me, like picking things up off the floor and such other nonsense. I'm ready to go back to being the capable normal lady who can do crap for herself.

-I have lost my mind, literally...Like, literally, lose track of what I was saying 5 minutes ago, can't remember what I was doing, lost car keys for a month, lost everything! I have spent more time the last month in a half driving past my neighborhood before realizing that I completely missed the turn, than ever before in my life. I want my mind back. Apparently though, preggo mind is just training for mommy brain, when you not only lose your mind, but your senses also. Just freaking perfect.

-I'm over the diabetes bullshit...Seriously, i'm over it. I'm over having to watch my intake of sugar and all that shit, and doing it right, but at the same time trying to make sure i'm getting enough carbs to give my son energy to do well enough and be awake enough for his NSTs. If i'm going to cut back on my sugar intake and exercise well too, i need this kid out!

-I WANT TO DRINK!!!...Sorry, hate breaking it to you, but I have never wanted a drink so bad before in my life! I mean, pregnancy is stressful, its a change of your life, COMPLETELY. And, that's just adjusting to the fact that you're carrying around a child and becoming a mommy, nevermind everything else that comes with it. Honestly, a drink is the least of what you want...its really more like a half bottle of vodka, with a splash of tomato juice. Its ridiculous, but fine, whatever, i'm ridiculous, I WANT AN EFFING DRINK!

-I'm so tired of being called preggo...Almost everyone calls me preggo. It has become the most annoying nickname of my life. I'm tired of being preggo. I want to be normal Flaherty. I'm ready to be normal Flaherty. I know that normal Flaherty is really a thing of the past to an extent, because i'm becoming a mom and that changes everything...but i'm done with Preggo. Preggo needs to be in my past.

I dunno...there's so much more to it than just that, that drives me CRAZY about pregnancy, but i'm having a hard time remembering all of it. Damn you pregnancy brain!!!

Reality Check...

As my mom (or Grandma) informed me this morning, I have two weeks and 6 days left until my due date. That is down right frightening news considering...

1. We do not have all the parts for my son's furniture. Oh, you read that right. My son is here in two weeks and I only have one shelf for his dresser and half of his changing table put together, because in my infinite new mom wisdom, I thought that this was a good company to go with. I was wrooooong. The company doesn't even have a website. Which is pretty sad and pathetic in the grand scheme of things. Oh well. At least his crib went together with no problem. I'll take what I can get right now.

2. I'm having my last baby shower this weekend. Lesson: Don't let passive aggressive behavior get in the way of what is normally, logical thinking, because you will probably regret it in the long run. Am I getting what I want in the end? Yes. Was it really worth it in the end? Not in the grand scheme of things. There are now too many parties and WAAAAAAY too much stuff. Well, the last part is not true. You really can never have too much stuff for your child. Except maybe newborn onesies. You can have too many of those.

3. I've been so busy, I have not packed a hospital bag yet. This is a bit like living on the wild side in mommy to be world, because I should've apparently had the bag packed like three weeks ago. I'm attempting to pack it this weekend. We'll see if I have time for it.

In truth, if you haven't learned it at this point, you are a crazy mommy to be. YOU ARE NOT INVINCIBLE AND YOU CAN NOT DO IT ALL! Two months ago, I thought I could do it all. I thought I could be a creative artist, a health guru, a good employee and a good mommy to be. You can't and you probably won't accomplish everything. In reality, you will be lucky if you accomplish a third of what you set out to accomplish at the beginning of your pregnancy. You will have to accept it and move forward with your life, because, your kid will not remember the fact that he slept in his grandparents living room, and that it wasn't painted, or that you didn't have the laundry done on the day he arrived, or that you didn't walk a marathon a month after he arrived, or that you didn't show off your creative artistic abilities right before he was born. You will care if he arrives into the world in one piece and he will care that you love him, and feed him and take care of him and be the best mommy you can be.

Realistically speaking, thinking you can do it all leads you to act crazy, do crazy things way out of your character, and slightly lose touch with reality. You really don't mean to, but it happens, even to the best of us. Blame it on the hormones. It really is the truth.

What's in a name?...

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

The 2010 Self-Improvement Quest Mid-Year Update...

Umm, exsqueeze me, but we are already halfway through the year? Shut the hell up. No, seriously, I mean it. Anyways, since its been six months since I originally set out on the adventure of trying to improve my life FOR REAL this year, I figured I'd pause for a second and review what I planned on doing, and if I've actually gotten anywhere...

-Career Development

Ok, so here's the thing...unfortunately, the job market is tough. Whoa, way for me to blow your mind. However, I've still been job hunting. Well, I was job hunting until I got to be about 4.5 months pregnant and there was no way to ignore the fact that i'm, well, preggo. I mean, I tried, but unfortunately, while they may not come out and out and tell you they aren't hiring you because they don't want to lose you in 4 - 5 months to maternity leave, THEY DON'T WANT TO HIRE YOU BECAUSE THEY DON'T WANT TO LOSE YOU IN 4-5 MONTHS TO MATERNITY LEAVE. Blah! It sucks. I have lots of skills. I made a list of them for goodness sakes. But, you can't make someone hire you, I still fully believe that with all my heart. I have plans though. I sent my resume to the local chapter of the Susan G. Komen Foundation to volunteer with office work and event planning, because that is one good way to get some good experience, even if I can't convince people to hire me right now, maybe 6 months down the line they will. It can't hurt to try. I'll try to work on improving this after my son arrives.

-Financial Stability

Surprisingly, in spite of the fact that my job stinks and the pay stinks, I am on financially better ground than I was a year ago. Crazy, i know. But, our bills are being paid, on time. My credit card is going to be paid off hopefully before I go on maternity leave, and by tax time next year, we should only be paying two bills..cell phone and car insurance. Holy crap! The one thing I've sucked at is still savings. However, if we can continue down the path of paying off bills, i'm hoping that we will be able to start adding to our savings account when I get back to work. At least, that's my goal.

-Health and Wellness

Health and Wellness took on a mind of its own. Along with pregnancy, came my sudden addiction to fruits, vegetables, wheat bread, peanut butter and milk and water. Caffeine has not been in my system in over 7 months. (Imagine what I'm going to be like when I get it back, yikes!) I've cut a lot of unnecessary crap from my diet. I do yoga five days a week. (Not the most flexible gal still, but it helps with certain wellness aspects.) And, with Gestational Diabetes, i'm extremely picky about what I put in my mouth and how much. I'm not going to lie, i'm not perfect. I still like a little bit of sweets every once in a while, but it's quite different from a year ago, where I just kinda put whatever I felt like in my mouth and was done with it.

The one thing I didn't think about wellness wise, was stress. Stress is actually still quite a big thing in my life, and I really have got to find some constructive ways to deal with besides eating, or yoga...or crying, blech. I'll have to do some research on this and go from there.

-Education

There's a tie in I didn't talk about up in career development. But, its education too. Its considering taking tax preparation classes and becoming a tax preparer during tax season. Earlier this year, I ended up doing 4 different people's taxes, including my own. I mean, I got paid for it a little, but if i'm gonna do it, why not get really paid for it. I need to find a good program though. H&R Block has one, but its $300!! Aaaah, how do I pay for that? I'm researching that plan. (And looking into it for my mom, who needs a part time job.)

In other education aspects, I've had a lot of education on stuff I didn't plan on, especially the whole becoming a mommy thing. I'm taking a Lamaze class at the end of the month, a breastfeeding class, oh, I also took a nutrition class about having Gestational diabetes too. I don't know, my genius plan of getting a book to learn about my car failed miserably when my car died and we haven't been able to get the car fixed yet. I basically want to try to get a "Mrs. Fix-it" kind of book and learn how to fix basic things around the house, toilets, this, that and the other. And the boy and I have been discussing taking a cooking class together as something fun to do after I have the baby, though it might have to wait until next year depending upon the cost. Yes, i am in fact a nerd.

-Minimalization/Organization

Ok, here's my opinion. After the last 8 months, I really think minimalization/organization is a LIFETIME process. You can get rid of as much stuff as you want, and still end up with more stuff. Now, this may have to do with the fact that I keep accumulating so much stuff for the jellybean, but seriously, the amount of clothes I've donated, the things from college that i've gone through and decided what I did or didn't want once and for all, and then minimizing my parents house down some, its been unreal. We've gotten rid of so much stuff. But, it feels like we have so much more stuff!! I was really proud of myself for getting rid of quite a bit of our DVD collection, which was craziness, and in actuality, we only got rid of about half of what we actually had, but we still got a good chunk of change from it, which was pretty cool.

I think that's the best summary of my self-improvement, at least at this point...Things are about to get seriously crazy, especially with my jellybean coming. We'll see how things progress from there!

Apparently...

I'm just not happy giving birth to a child this year and becoming a mother...I have to go save everybody's ta-tas too.

Realistically, there are several reasons for all these things occurring right now, none of the least, that I have AMAZING timing. (Please note sarcasm.) Anyways, in the past, when I have experienced times of high stress, (the good majority of college, a decent part of high school) one of the best things for me to combat the stress was to immerse myself in activities, usually along the creative lines, to help me focus on other things and take my mind off the stress. High school was all about event planning...homecoming, dances, activities around school etc. It was the first time I took ceramics, and while I suck at it ROOOYYYALLLYY, it was therapeutic to mess with clay on wheels and in general. (One of my pieces got entered in a city wide competition among high school students, so hey, don't knock my artistic talents.) One other thing that helped was volunteering. I volunteered in the Summer Camp program at the YMCA for two years, and the first year I did it, I received the Youth Volunteer of the Year award...at the age of 16, no less. (Continuing proof that giving to others CAN help you.)

Anyways, I've had my eye on the annual Bra-ha-ha competition that started up about 2 years ago in the area. They only have the competition in two areas, here and in New York. Basically, you decorate a 38C bra in whatever design you choose from hilarious to whimsical and submit it to the competition. All the money raised goes towards the local regional hospital's breast center, and whoever wins with the best design, wins $1000. If nothing else, I feel like this will be a good way to keep my hands occupied for an additional two months, along with baby shower planning, baby room planning, and baby planning in general. (69 days to go by the way. Yikes!)

Then, in a rather disappointing turn of events, I've developed Gestational Diabetes! Arrrrgh! Measure everything! Grrr! Eat 6 times a day! Arrrrgh! Poke myself 4 times a day! Blaaaarrrgh! Still get to eat carbs...huh? Yep. Saw my dietitian today, who was very helpful with meal planning, ideas for things to eat, what things to be careful about intaking, measuring out how much I need to eat and all other kinds of dietary nonsense. After this, i'm excited, surprisingly. Its helpful to have an idea of what things I can and can't have and how much to have, and while its annoying, well, i'm still intaking 2000 calories a day (which is the normal intake for the preggos of the world.) Its not as scary as other people made it sound, its more a matter of just being careful how much you eat and what you are eating, and keeping an eye on it all. Its really what everyone should do.

There are several ways you can develop Gestational Diabetes, and no, its not just from being a fat ass or drinking soda all the time (though none of that helps). A lot of it is family history stuff, like being Hispanic or African-American, being over 25 when having a child, and family history of diabetes. I'm half-Hispanic, almost 28 years old and my mom developed gestational diabetes when she had me! Gee, I wasn't predisposed to develop this at all. I'm not thrilled, but I needed this. It'll help me get my eating habits under control.

Two big things that will help cut my blood sugar down, is (1) reducing stress (I.E., less freaking out about baby stuff, more yoga), and (2) Exercise. This is where saving ta-tas once again comes into play. I've always wanted to do the Susan G. Komen Foundation Run for the Cure, but have always allowed myself to come up with all these reasons why I don't have time to do it. But, losing the baby weight within the next year or so, and then continuing to lose weight afterwards is really important to me, if nothing else for my health. So, i'm going to do the 5k Walk for the Cure, a month after I have the baby. (Well, as long as he doesn't decide to cook for an extra couple of days or so.) I'm kind of excited. I'm not much a runner at all, so I highly doubt I'll ever actually run a race, but, i'm pretty good at walking and walking is a good form of exercise, especially at this stage of pregnancy. I'll keep you abreast (hahaha) of my progress as I go. :)

Other than that, I'm trying to focus on healthy thoughts for my baby. Everything else becomes less important as my child gets closer and closer to arriving. I can do this. I can do this. NO, wait, WE can do this.

Reasons Why People Are Too Uptight These Days...

Reason # 238: They take themselves waaaaaaaaaay too seriously.

For real, seriously, I mean I know I take myself pretty seriously sometimes. Sometimes, I lose my sense of humor, but whatever. The point, is that 99% of the population takes themselves entirely too seriously for their own damn good. Its not healthy. Its why people are dropping dead of heart attacks at 40. My dad may not be in the best shape of his life, but damn it, he's 72, and after getting shot in Vietnam, having a brick thrown at his car (partially destroying part of his face), having two kids after the age of 40, an angina attack (backwards heart attack), triple bypass, diabetes, knee replacement surgery that put him in ICU before it was all overwith, and the latest bout of health problems, he's still alive, kicking and laughing about it all. My dad knows how to laugh and just be happy, no matter how tight things get in his life.

The point of all this, is that the other night, I got full proof that people take themselves way too seriously.

Here's the deal...I don't talk about my job much. Its not the favorite part of my life and dwelling on it after I've left just leaves me way too stressed, which is bad for the jellybean. But, this story is just so...silly, I can't help but share it.

My job involves a drive-thru. Primary reason #1 why it sucks. But, in that drive-thru, I experience more crap from crazy people than the law allows. Here's why people take themselves waaay too seriously.

Me: "Hi, Can I take your order?
Customer: (Engine Roar) "BLOAOIHERKJNBEURIBRT CAN I GET AHDIUGHUIHWEBIUWBERH?"
Me: "Ummm, i'm sorry, can you repeat that for me?
Customer: (still with engine roaring in background) "CAN I GET A NBHEURITHUIWEJHTGJB WITH A COKE?"
Me: "I apologize sir, can you repeat that for me one more time?"
Customer: (engine roar still in full effect) "CAN...I....GET...A...NUMBER...8...WITHOUT ADFIHAUIH...WITH...A...COKE?"
(Hi, i'm not stupid. If you would not park the engine of your car right beside the speaker, I would be able to hear your lousy order. Mmm, k, thanks.)
Me: "I'm very sorry sir, but i'm having a tough time hearing you. Is there anyway you could speak up?"
Customer: (engine roar dies down) CAN...I...GET...A...NUMBER...8...WITHOUT PICKLE...AND...A...COKE?
(Again, not stupid. Please stop speaking to me like i'm 4.)
Me: (Super, super nice voice) Sure, no problem, Total's blah blah blah. Please pull around.
Guy pulls around...Oh great, your Mr. Mid-life crisis, driving a pretty new Chevy Camaro. Just freaking great.
Me: Hi, sir, you're total's blah blah blah.
(I wait, while he gets his money together and proceed to take another order. He leaves his hand hanging out the window with the money in it.)
Me: Hi sir, I can go ahead and take your money. (Waits for him to acknowledge to me, then gently pulls on the money, he turns gives me a dirty look and hands me the money.)
(Process order, get change together and receipt, hand him the receipt, he closes his fist just I go to hand him his change, change bounces off of his hand and on to the ground.)
Me: Oh, I'm so sorry sir. (Customer glares at me and opens his car door without saying a word.)
(I proceed to take another order, then look over and realize the guy is still sitting there and open the window.)
Me: How can I help you sir?
Customer: I hope you didn't scratch my brand new Chevy Camero.
(You have got to be f-ing kidding me. WTF?)
Me: (Looks at car first.) Well sir, it doesn't look like I did, but if I did, I am very very sorry sir. I did not mean to if I did sir.
Customer: You know, you have been EXTREMELY rude to me during this whole entire time.
Me: I'm sorry, sir. I was not trying to be rude to you at all.
Customer: Whatever. (Pulls off to next window.)

Are you freaking kidding me? Would you like to sue me for the cost of the scratch on your car? I make $8.00 an hour and work less than 40 hours a week. Get the f over it!

By the way, he bitched about me to my boss. My boss's response..."Well, she's 7 months pregnant, so it kinda comes with the territory." Haha.

Letting go...

I'm in a complicated stretch of my life right now. My young son, who's newest favorite thing is to shove parts of his body against parts of mine, is arriving in about three months. This is good. I've gotten through the first two trimesters. But this is bad...i'm a procrastinator and I have a ton to do like I said last time and its a bit overwhelming. At least i'm not doing it alone though. That makes life easier.

The biggest thing, out of everything we have to accomplish, besides getting our car fixed (which we are almost there with, yay!), is clearing out four rooms of this house in three months. It used to be five rooms, but in a pure moment of manic nesting syndrome, I dragged my family out to the garage and we cleaned it! Well, most of it. We easily got rid of TWO TRUCKLOADS of crap to the dump and about a truckload and a half of stuff to Goodwill that had been sitting in our garage for the last 22 years or so. We've lived here a long time, since right before D.R was born. Time has not been our friend in terms of accumulation and we are all bad for it. We found old toys (like my Alvin and the Chipmunks doll I got for Christmas 1984 with the pull string on the back that I pulled so much, his voice doesn't work anymore, we chucked him), D.R's stories he wrote back in school (with his overactive imagination, I can't for the life of me figure out why he doesn't try writing...or becoming a lawyer...i still need to have a dictionary beside me to have a conversation with him sometimes), things my mom had meant to send out to her family in South America and about 3 bazillion tool boxes that my dad has. Anyways, we cleaned it. It was weird. It was the most room any of us had seen out there in about 10 years. And, it left us with enough room to shove a queen size bed, a desk and a trunk out there from my room.

Yep, we cleaned my room. Well, we cleared out stuff, how about we say that. My queen size bed was replaced with a California king size bed, that i'm really surprised we fit into my room at all. The mattress is only two years old though, and very comfy. I'm sleeping much better. My desk is gone, which sucks, because I have nowhere to put bills and stuff, but its making me get rid of shit, which is good. I still have a lot of crap that I have to figure out what to do with. I'm getting rid of most of the evening gowns I have, except for two (one for a trash the dress photo shoot and one that I just like and should still fit me once I have the jellybean), I need to organize and pack away my CD collection and then start going through and converting my DVD collection to blu-ray. Plus going through my clothes. Which is gonna be weird, considering I've decided to give MOST of it away that I was wearing pre-pregnancy and start over again when I have the baby. I still have a long way to go, and i'm not sure if I'm going to be done by the time the baby comes. But there are still three other rooms of this house to clean.

Next, is the dining room, which is about 15 years worth of crap from soccer balls to camping equipment, to board games and books. Its gonna take some time, but its a smaller room compared to the garage, so I think it'll work out faster in the end. Then, we gotta clear out the living room, which has pretty much become baby storage stuff. Then, D.R.'s room, who has graciously agreed to move into the living room so that the baby can have his room. Basically, all the cleaning is a method of madness of sorts. And this is boring, I know. But the mess has consumed my life. Its like being underwater, and just wanting to burst up to the surface for air. Its left me consumed in memories when I stumble upon things.

In a real shocker, I've actually gotten rid of photographs. As an amateur photographer, this is so not my style. But, I find in my current emotional state, I'm almost allowing myself to feel emotions other than happiness, and while some of the photos stay because they make me happy, other have to go in the trash because they make me angry. I think its what I knew all along. I clean up my home, maybe i'll clean up the rest of my life. Get rid of other things that make me angry. Learn to continue to be happy with the person I am. I may not have a title, a million dollar paycheck or even a clean room. But I have a family who loves me, a man who cherishes me, faults and all, with no judgement for my past and an adorable little man coming into my life. So, why do I keep holding on the past, besides wanting to remember the good times? Isn't it time to let go of the sadness, the anger? To stop punishing myself for whatever things I did against others that I've already apologized for. To stop allowing myself to feel inferior because I don't have this, that or the other, or don't do things a certain way. I've digressed completely, but I was trying to get here. Its where I've been for months, maybe years. And, its hard to get out of the cycle once you're in it. Once you allow others to allow you to feel inferior, its hard to escape. Its such an easy mold to fit. I'm not this because I don't have that, and I'm not that because I don't do this and I don't love so and so because I do this instead of that. Screw it all. Holding on to photographs that make me upset, doesn't make me a better person. Trying to hold on to things that don't bring back good memories doesn't make me happy. If I'm really going to try to start anew per say, isn't it time to just let it all go?

90 days just doesn't feel like enough time...

Actually, if you want real honesty, its 88 days. And it doesn't feel like I have enough time to accomplish everything that I need/want to do.

Here's the breakdown...

Things I need to have accomplished between now and Sept. 11
-Finish Baby registries
-Give mother-in-law info on Snoopy bed set I want
-Finish finalizing details on Baby showers
-Settle on some freaking paint colors and paint the baby's room
-Clear out four rooms of my parents house so we have room for the jellybean
-Get the family van AND mine and the boy's car fixed
-Pre-register at the hospital
-Register me and the boy for child education classes
-Register for a free carseat
-Get pregnancy photographs taken(?)
-Do MORE yoga
-Oh, and figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life, so that I won't be destitute or contribute to the boy's and jellybean's destitutiness (Is that even a word? I'm making crap up as I go.)

It just doesn't feel like there's enough time to accomplish any of it. Somethings I'm obviously not doing alone. Some of it is not even my responsibility, it just feels like it is, because if I wasn't pregnant, two-thirds of this wouldn't need to happen.

Blarghblooooooghnhbotighfoiehgofihjdsogihdeoi phhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhht!

Approximately 10 hours later...

Crap! I forgot other stuff...this is why I write everything down in three different places...

Other stuff I need to do between now and Sept. 11
-Get everyone's addresses for the baby showers.

Ok, now I think that's it. PHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHT!!!

Spinning out of Control...

(I'm writing this about 5 minutes before I start my day long project of reorganization/minimization in my room. This has just been sitting in my mind forever.)

I feel like sometime recently (or maybe longer ago), I lost control of my life.

It all starts with my bedroom/home. I always feel like its organized chaos at best and just pure chaos at worst. Its hard, you have two people living in a 10x12 room, which neither are really happy about at the end of the day. Yes, it would be easier to move out. Financially, we can either afford to move to the ghetto ( and when I say the ghetto, I mean the GHETTO. I've seen it. I'm too white for it. And too girly. And too whiny.), or we would move back into my parent's home in two months (specifically right around when I pop out our little jellybean and i'm out of work). Its not ideal, but its better than any other option we've come up with up until this point. But lately, the organized chaos mostly just makes me want to cry.

I can't seem to find anything, I lose everything all the time and can't find it for days on end. (Seriously, I lost my car keys for a month. And couldn't figure out where they were.) Part of this is short term memory loss, part of this is flat out losing my mind from stress, but most of it is just not devoting enough time to straightening out my life some more.

Some things have changed in my life obviously, and at this point, its not something that's going to change. The little jellybean has very quickly grown into an ear of corn that weighs 1.3 pounds and I only have 109 days left until he shows up (or well, there abouts). I still have to finish registering for the baby showers, settle on paint colors, help reorganize part of the house, paint his room, register for child education classes, put together the crib/changing table/dresser, figure out the whole 3 baby showers thing (because quite frankly, i'm at a loss as to how I ended up with that many to attend, oh yeah, i've lost control of my life!!!!), and thousands of other things. Yet again, I have someone coming into my life who is going to come first. Not that this is a bad thing, its just I need to do some stuff for me before he arrives. (Or as the cute 6 year old proclaimed the other day "flies in").

This whole reorganization thing is not the only thing making it feeling like i've lost control. There are decisions being made in my life about stuff that I've talked about before, but no one really talks to me about it. I've decided to let some of it go, and in some cases make other plans, that will fit more into what I would like to do. This seems to piss people off, but I have gotten really good at unintentionally pissing people off for the last 5 or 6 years, so while there is that whole guilty part in my head, (which I really hate), there's 5 and a half month pregnant me, who just doesn't give two farts anymore. I just hate it...I feel like if I organize one part of my life, maybe I'll be able to organize the rest of it. And I'll feel more prepared when my Jellybean gets here.

So no more messing around, at least for today. I'm not going out, i'm not napping (especially since I have energy right now...at 7am), nothing until I feel like I can breathe in my room. I think that's my problem. So much is going on...working two jobs, semi-job hunting, figuring out this whole pregnancy/mom thing, looking over finances and trying not to cry along with the boy, doctor's appointments, weddings, parties, hanging out with family members, trying to hang out with friends. And yet, again, i'm always trying to be everything to everyone, which never seems to work. And, as my Aunt pointed out to me the other day, "this is all about you and the baby." I have a hard time believing it sometimes, and I very rarely let myself be the center of attention, but I think for once in my life, at least for the next 3 1/2 - 4 months, i'm going to try.

Night and Day...

Everybody has a reason for the way that they are, whether its because of family, friends, experience or time. I just never realized how closely linked my personality is to my family, at least until Mother's Day.

Now, even though I am becoming a new Mommy, i'm still not one yet. So, to celebrate Mother's Day, I got my pregnant butt out of bed and decided to make my mom breakfast! (Also, celebrating the fact that my mom finally came home from Florida, yayyayayayayayayayayayayay!) Somehow, I managed to convince my brother to get his butt out of bed to help me out and the two of us proceeded to cook and clean. I was in the middle of rocking out to Foo Fighters on Pandora and cleaning dishes and giving orders to my brother of what he could do to help clean until we were ready to cook, while the boy peeked in at our progress and generally made fun of my newly developed waddle. (OMG, i'm waddling!!) As we progressed, the boy suddenly stopped me in my tracks with a question..."Why don't you just tell DR what to do all at once, instead of one task at a time?" Both me and my brother stopped what we were doing, looked at each other, and I immediately regressed to the age of twelve.

At twelve, I was not thrilled to have my weeknights and some weekend nights filled with "Play tag with the five year old." Of course, neither of my parents were thrilled to be leaving me in charge of my autistic five year old brother. (We wouldn't find out he actually had a much milder form of Autism, known as Asperger's Syndrome for another 3 years.) But, my father had lost his job, and we didn't have but so many options at the time, so babysitting and cooking, along with homework and making sure DR did kindergarten homework, (Did you color your sheet for school? YES! SEEEEEEEE! Ok, ok!) was part of my life. One particular night, I was desperate to be semi-normal for five minutes of my pre-pubescent life, and really just wanted to watch 90210, and NOT entertain my goofy brother. But, dinner had to be made, the family room was a mess and homework had not even been attempted in my world, (though DR's had been accomplished in 6 minutes...) so I decided to get DR to pitch in and help. I asked him to pick up trash on the floor, put his homework away, and pull out silverware from the drawer, since dinner was almost done. I went back to cooking whatever it was that I was cooking, when 5 minutes later, I heard a wail and ran into the next room to find DR running in circles with a half filled trash bag lying on the floor and tears streaming down his face. There are very few things in the world more terrifying than finding your five year old brother running in manic circles around a trash bag, and there not being any blood you can see coming out of him. Out of the corner of his eye, he seemed to catch a glimpse of me, and immediately ran into my arms, crying hysterically. Through the blubber of tears, I managed to catch "Too much...I can't remember." In my effort to treat my brother "normal", (such a crock of crap...nobody's normal) I had overwhelmed him, which, comparatively speaking, is like informing me that I'm in charge of making sure a nuclear power plant doesn't blow up the lower 48 states. I'd be crying and running in circles too. That was the day I learned that not everybody learns the same and not everyone can be expected to do the same thing in the same way.

My brother and I are night and day. I'm talkative, sociable, happy, a multi-tasking, organizational, 3 calenders just to inform me when my baby is coming, giggling, outgoing kind of gal. I'm semi-witty, but mostly just funny on purpose (and accident). DR is introverted, careful, mistrusting of those he doesn't know (for good reason), intelligent, disorganized, messy, one step at a time, would walk out the door without his head if it wasn't attached to his body, observant kind of guy. He's funny when he doesn't try to be, and is actually really great once you get to know him. But getting to know him is like trying to break through a brick wall. I'm practically an open book.

I handle change well, or relatively well for a 27 year old neurotic who tries and fails miserably at planning her life. My brother's life is literally over for 5 minutes if something of importance to him is moved from one room to the next, never mind death, moving to another state or any major life changing event that could happen to any of us at any moment. Yet, he's taught me to not let your neurosis stop you from doing the things you want to do. Harsh reality moment: DR had accomplished more adventures by the age of 19, than I had at 25. Ever hiked 50 miles of the Appalachian trail? I haven't even hiked one. The most accident prone, least athletically skilled out of all of us Flahertys, and he hikes and canoes and swims and falls down the side of mountains. He hiked and canoed 50 miles of the Appalachian trail at age 16. At age 17, he performed at Carnegie Hall, along with 25 of his peers. This is not a person who does well with crowds either. He was courted by MIT, Harvard and countless other prestigious universities and colleges across the United States, well, before freaking out and deciding to stay home and go to school here. He's making plans to hike the whole of the Appalachian trail. He may not have many friends, but the ones he does have, he trusts completely and they understand him completely, neurotic craziness and all.

So, why am I the way I am? Because life has taught me that no ones catches all the good or all the bad. Because my brother is younger than me, but has taught me more than I could ever hope to teach him. Because if my asperger's syndrome brother can accomplish what he has accomplished (which is more than I could ever list), why can't I do the same?

The truth, is that my brother has been the one person in my life who has taught me more about tolerance, acceptance, and understanding than imaginable. He's not perfect, but than again, neither am I , and neither is anyone else. Somehow or another, he turned me into a leader and a pretty good teacher. I have no clue if this is actually going to help me in life, in the end, since I can't seem to find a halfway decent job without moving to Billings, Montana (and I don't like snow THAT much). But it feels like a start. Nothing is ever perfect. But, if you plow through it and keep going, maybe you can walk away with a feeling of satisfaction for the things you have accomplished. Let go of the things you can't control, and be happy with what you have. Strive for more, but be satisfied with what you have done.

Fishbowl Uterus...

To truly understand me, you'd have to understand my brain, which I barely understand.

I'm easily amused. Combine that with an overactive imagination and certain ADD tendencies and you have a recipe for pure disaster somedays. It leads me to think about the things I'd like to have if science and reality weren't part of the deal. I.E. Fishbowl Uterus.

My baby is a boy. I thought I was going to be really upset if it wasn't a girl. Truthfully, I'm happy. I already have two surrogate nephews, Peanut (James) and Alex, who I absolutely adore. They are rambunctious, messy and generally entertaining. Peanut is my quiet boy who kind of takes everything in and likes to wrestle and be thrown around by his uncles, but has no issues sitting with me as we dye Easter eggs. Alex is going to be the quizzical one, with his big brown eyes that take in everything and his need to push buttons. God help him, he's a button pusher. My son seems to already have rambunctious tendencies, moving around constantly, bringing his feet to his head so he can play with his toes and leaning against my kidney to remind me that he is there. (Thanks kiddo.) But all those things I know because we saw it in the fuzzy ultrasound or because I can feel it some.

I'm curious. I always want to know how things work, and even more importantly to know what's going on. I was the two year old who would grab her pillow and blanket and curl up on the kitchen floor at night so that I could hear what my parents were doing, so I wouldn't miss out on anything. So, not being able to see what my little boy is doing on a regular basis is driving me nuts! I need a fishbowl uterus, so that I can look down and see what he's doing, how he's moving, how he's progressing and what he looks like. Maybe I could start teaching him stuff early like how to wave and smiling and making funny faces. Of course this is all in my dreams. But it would be awesome.

Truthfully, the more I learn about him, the more I want him to come out, so I can hold him and take care of him and play with him. Surprisingly, I'm more and more ready for him to come everyday.

You Don't Realize How Good You've Got It, Till You DON'T Have It...

Unfortunately, I'm a statistic.

No, this did not occur because of pregnancy, though that did make the issue more front and center. I am one of millions of Americans who has gone without health insurance for an extended period of time. 5 very long years to be exact. I was a snot before that point too. I took my health insurance coverage for granted. I didn't just have coverage, I had it good. Once I was old enough to know, I still didn't appreciate it. I didn't pay for medicine, I very rarely paid for doctor's appointments, I never paid more than 30 bucks for a visit to the emergency room (and believe me, I've had A LOT of those). I was a navy brat.

Things started going downhill sometime around my junior year of college. That's when I hurt myself so badly that yet again I had to go to the emergency room. That summer, I started receiving the bills from the hospital, informing me I owed $800!!! OMG, how the hell does a broke ass college student pay for that?! Simple, with a credit card! But then my dad wanted to know why insurance hadn't covered it. Some quick research to discover that more or less because I had to go to a non military hospital, they weren't obligated to pay the bill without months and months of red tape. The reason why they could get away with this was because I had entered limbo being over the age of 23 AND still in college, but they didn't have to cover me anymore, so basically they were looking for anyway possible to get out of paying this $800 bill. Somehow, my dad talked to the right people and they managed to extend my coverage for one more year, but that after that year, I would no longer be covered by my parent's health insurance. My parents assured me this wouldn't be a big deal, we would find a way to get me coverage.

Fast forward to a year later and me and my mom sitting at my parent's auto insurance company which also could provide health insurance. We filled out the forms and then sat and waited for a month, only to discover that I had been denied health insurance because of a pre-existing condition. That "condition" is me being overweight. Yup. You read right. I was denied health insurance that I (and my parents) were willing to pay for because I weighed too much and was considered a health risk. Now, don't give me the crap about defending the health insurance companies because it drives up their premiums and I am a health risk. I know I'm a health risk. So is my 72 year old father with diabetes and my 20 year old brother with asthma. The problem comes in that I'm willing to pay for insurance and this company was unwilling to cover me because I didn't fit into their "standards" of health. Just because you have factors that put you at risk, doesn't mean you don't have the right to have access to health care. Nothing is more shell shocking though, than being told that you basically don't have that right. Because there is almost nothing in this country more expensive than actually going to get health care.

I spent 5 long years doing my best to avoid being sick, toughing out the sickness against my own better judgement and having myself and my parents sink at least $2000 into hospital bills when I couldn't avoid going to the hospital all together. (A reason I'm hoping my child will NOT be accident prone. Mostly, because its no fun to have scars all over you. Though at least you have stories.) My primary care physician did the best she could for me, seeing me when she could and charging me bare minimum prices when I did have to go see her. Mostly, I avoided it as best as I could because I just can't afford it. I literally could not afford to get sick or hurt. That is one of the most frightening feelings in the world. And it was something I felt all the time for 5 long years.

One of the reasons it felt like the floor had dropped out from underneath me when I found out I was pregnant, was because I had NO idea how we were going to pay for all of the costs of this. But the clothes and the this and the that for the kid didn't phase me. That will always get figured out. But I could see me and the boy being in debt for the rest of our lives and never being able to get anywhere, because neither of us have health insurance and how are we going to pay for this?! I knew it was expensive to have a kid, but truly didn't know until I went to see my baby doctor and they gave me the breakdown of how much this was going to cost if I paid for it all myself...

$2000 - covers up to 15 prenatal visits

Vaginal delivery

Physical exam

One post-partum visit at 6 weeks - Pap smear not included

Fees do not include...

1st initial visit (200 to 900 dollars)

C-section w/ prenatal visits - $2500

Prenatal blood tests - lab will bill

Amniosentesis - $250.00

Ultrasounds - $100 - $230 a piece

Non Stress test (???) - $50

Male circumcision - $337.00 (Yeah, this kid needs to be a girl)

Alpha-feta protein - lab will bill

RPR - lab will bill

Urinalysis - $8

Hemoglobin - $15

Oh my God! This doesn't include any extra stuff, like if you have to go to the hospital or extra testing for unforseen complications, or complications in general. Like me, I made a mistake, didn't go with my gut and went to the hospital first to find out for sure if I was pregnant. Two weeks later, I got the bill and 45 minutes later, my mom walked in my room to find me rocking back and forth on my bed clutching the bills and wailing, while the boy rubbed my back in an effort to calm me down. Ever really paid attention to what you are paying for? I now know. Here's what I got billed for...

Hospital:

1 Emergency Visit - $855.35

1 Laboratory Charge i.e. peeing in a cup - 111.15

1 Radiology diagnosis -having my confirmation ultrasound - 558.90

1 Pharmacy Charge - tiny pill to curb nausea I was having - .75 cents

Then, the Radiology department sends me a bill for 138.50 for having someone read my ultrasound! Oh and the doctor charges me for services rendered - 233.00. Final grand total for sitting in the hospital for 4 hours....$1897.65!!!!!!!!!!

I'm a statistic now. I'm on medicaid. I'm not proud of it. But I don't have $5000 to toss around for health care. I don't know many people that do. I'm not a lazy person. I'm not a person trying to cheat the system. I'm simply a woman, trying to have a child, without having her own health insurance. The claim is that one day, I'll look back on all of this and laugh. Hopefully, I will. With health insurance.

Debbie Downers...

::SIGH:: Hi, my name is Flaherty and I'm an optimist.

I have spent most of my life looking for the sunshiny side of things. The upside. Glass half-full kinda crap. It doesn't always work. I have my days. I get grumpy. But for the most part, I have to check everything out and see things through before I make a decision that it is bad for me or not a good option.

We have potentially found an apartment. A groovy apartment. An apartment two streets up from the Oceanfront. OH MY FREAKING GOD, I have been babbling about living at the beach since I was in high school. God, I don't even have to live there forever, but to be able to say I lived at the beach and cross that off the big list of things to accomplish in life, I would be so happy. Even better, its not overly expensive. Its expensive, but not overly expensive. We have to go check it out obviously, and I've long learned to stop putting all my eggs in one basket, but this could be sweet.

I'm excited, thrilled, really. This could be cool. So why do people like to rain on other people's parades? Is it because people can not be truly happy for someone else? Is it the need to be "real" and help others be "real"? Or does it just suck to hear that something is going right for two people who have been on the EPIC roller coaster of FAIL for the last year and a half and you just have to make them cranky? I don't rain on your parade. I'm truly happy for you and all your stuff. Jealousy is an ugly color on anyone and so are you in anything backless! (I'm bitter, sorry.)

Anyways, I'm excited, i can't wait. I'm going to check this place out and see where its at, what its like, what the parking is like and all sorts of other things and take pictures and then we'll see how me and the boy feel about it. He's getting all puffy chesty because he thinks he's providing me with something I want. Which is true. I want this real bad. We'll see how it is though and then go from there.

Being Cool...

I have been cool approximately 10 minutes of my life. Total. Maybe.

I have had really cool stuff happen to me. This does not in fact make a person cool. This simply means you were in the right place at the right time. Which is true for me about 75% of the time.

Being cool is this thing that always seems to just escape me. I never quite say the cool thing. I never quite make it on wearing the right clothes at the right time. I always just tried a little too hard in high school. Actually, high school was mostly about just skating on by, except for my Student Council days. But that didn't make me cool. That was just leadership and decorating skills and planning skills.

I was never athletically inclined. I danced. I was pretty good. Not fantastic. If we had the money, I probably would've gotten good at it. Other than that, not an athletic person. Cheerleader...in the first grade. Softball...Rec league, where no one really cares. Soccer in high school...i played the last 10 minutes of every game because the coach took pity on me.

College was really my blossoming years, as a person and as someone who knew the way she wanted to be. But years of knowing I was never cool still followed me to college and affected the kind of person I was not, not as badly as it had in high school, but enough to where I can still tell the difference between how I used to be and how I am now.

The way I got through high school and even parts of college, was being a people pleaser. I wasn't cool, I didn't quite fit in the way I wanted to, so I was really kind and really helpful. Sometimes to the point where I let myself be talked to in a way that wasn't kind and to where I allowed myself to be in bad relationships because I just wanted to be accepted. Because I had a hard time accepting myself.

I'm a very dorky, awkward, kind of hilarious person. No matter how much weight I lose after I have my baby, I will never be 'petite' or 'cute'. I will always be taller than average. I will always have a tendency to just kind of say whatever is at the tip of my tongue because its how I feel or because there is no point in holding back anymore. I will trip over my own feet, but dance rather gracefully because I had 4 years of ballet training, which makes me semi-graceful. I will read for the rest of my life, because it is how I learn and I like to learn and know and have 7 million random facts floating in my head for conversations with the many different people I know in my life. I like relating to lots of people and I like helping people, but I learn more and more everyday that helping and pleasing is not a way to be accepted. It is a way to be used and abused and mistreated.

The funny thing is, is that when you start changing, people don't like it. I understand it, to an extent, but i don't. Its hard for me some days, because I want to slip back into people pleaser mode to keep the peace. But, i'm not so good at keeping peace anymore. I get aggravated when I realize my kindness is being taken advantage of. That really creams my corn, a lot. And people don't want to take me seriously. They think that i'm nice and so they can do what they want and I'll come back for more. I have friends, good friends, and a nice family and the wonderful boy and a baby coming. I have a pretty full life. I'm tired of adding people who want to use me for my car and my perks at the radio station and other such nonsense. But then people get angry when i stand up for myself. If it was them in my shoes, they would act much the same way. I'm not mean. Not yet.

What concerns me the most, is that if i don't stop now, my child will follow my path. I already want so much more for this little person. I mean, you can't help personality, you are what you are. But, if mommy is not a pushover, baby will not be a pushover. I find more and more, everything I do is not only for the betterment of myself, but the betterment of my future child. It makes it a lot easier to not slip back into people pleaser mode.

Geez, my emotions are in overdrive right now. I need my pregnancy hormones to chill out!

Stubborn Biatch

That is thy name.

Sorry, its the harsh reality right now. As of right now, I'm 13 weeks pregnant. My feet are starting to swell, my face is breaking out, i'm getting chubbier and nausea still makes it impossible to eat somedays. Oh, and i'm an emotional nutcase.

The problem with being an emotional nutcase is that I don't react to things in a rational manner. (Not that I ever really did.) But I'm much more honest. I'm holding back a lot less. I'm coming off as a henious, stubborn bitch and I don't care.

Its not a personal thing. I've spent two-third's of my life being nice to people and finding a kind way to say things about people because I am just not fond of confrontation. Once confrontation surfaces, I normally avoid it like the black plague and go into hiding in my shell and just keep my thoughts to myself and stew. I seem to have lost this ability to be able to do this sort of thing all the time. But I can't say that I'm truly upset about this.

I love my boyfriend's family. I do. They are kind people, with redneck tendencies, but a lot of people are. That I can live with. What I can't live with is being driven nuts!

First off, this is my pregnancy. Which means I'm the one that's carrying this kid. Which means I can handle this situation how I want. The boy and I get to raise this kid the way we want, which means we get to make decisions about how we handle discipline, schooling and other such nonsense.

Secondly, if someone tries to push freaking boy baby clothes on me before we freaking know what I'm having, i'm going to literally strangle the person who does that to me. We don't know what I'm having. I think I'm having a girl, but on the off chance I'm not, I want to know for sure. Until I know for sure, I'm not buying a single stitch of clothing. (Well, i did buy a really cute Bunny ears hat for easter. Sue me, I'm a new mom.) Stop pushing stuff on me. I don't need it. I have enough on me as it is.

Third, there are three major events in a woman's life, only two of which she's has some kind of control over, because at your funeral, you're dead, and quite frankly as long as no one just throws me in the backyard, I really won't care anymore. But, you can control your wedding and your pregnancy/baby shower. Please let me have a say in what I want to do. Its mine. I don't want to have to live vicariously through someone else because I didn't get to do things the way I wanted to. Save us all the hassle and save me the tears and let me do what I want, because at this point, i'm going to be pushed to pay for it myself, have it in the backyard and invite 15 people tops. I'm not in kindergarten, and i'm less and less fond of the idea of inviting people who don't like me and who i don't consider friends or family to this thing. And on top of that, why is this such a big deal, its a party for me to be a freeloader. I'll take care of it when I'm good and ready. I would like to accomplish the red tape of Medicaid first before I start worrying about whether I want chocolate or yellow cake at the party. And hey, maybe I want confetti cake. Confetti frosting is the shit, ok?

And finally, quite frankly, you don't know what I'm putting in my mouth. You don't ask me. You just assume. Yes, i know I'm fat. I've been looking at this body for a really long time, I know the flaws and the good parts. But, just because i'm fat and now having a baby does not mean that I am treating my stomach like a trash shoot. I have a salad everyday. I've severly increased my intake of fiber, in a concentrated effort to not have to deal with constitpation and hemeroids. I am literally force feeding myself milk so that I get my daily quota of calcium and don't develop Osteoperosis. (Literally. I chug 3 glasses of milk a day. I hate milk. But i do it.) I already worry about gestational diabetes (because my mom got it both times when she was pregnant), high blood pressure, and the effects of stress on a baby. I take prenatal vitamins everyday, do yoga five days a week and have cut caffeine out of my life almost completely. I am so worried about how much weight I'm putting on and am trying my damndest to not put on too much weight but make sure I put on enough so that the baby will be healthy. And quite frankly, instead of being worried about what I put in my mouth, why don't you worry about what you are putting in your mouth.

Side note: The people who this is directed at don't read this blog, at least not as far as I know. I've actually said most of this to the people who this is directed at. I just need to try to get it out of my system. Its driving me nuts.

The point of all of this is please, please continue to try to tell me what to do. Seriously. All you are doing is turning me into a hard-headed, stubborn bitch, who is not going to listen to you. Seriously.

Love and Adventures

This picture reminds me perfectly of last summer. Days spent at the beach with good friends, my love and the bright sunshiny days of summer. It is why I love living at the beach and why I love everything about my life. (Well, most everything. But nothing is perfect.)

I'm an adventurous person who comes from a long line of adventurers. I mean c'mon my great grandparents did trek over here from Ireland, and it takes a lot of adventure to do that. My dad joined the navy and traveled literally all over the world and fought for his country. My mom joined the navy, left her family in Connecticut and went to Spain, went to Italy after an earthquake and coordinated a rescue team and met her future husband in Spain.

My Aunt Judy has always been an adventurer, even after her husband died, going to see her daughters in Florida and California at least 3-4 times a year and her daughter who lives in California is taking Aunt Judy to Ireland for St. Patrick's Day and then they are going to Paris. Proof enough for me that you can have adventures whether you are young, old, with kids, without kids, whatever.

I'm already making plans for more adventures, on top of everything else going on. The Summer Olympics are in 2012 in London, where my Aunt Claudia lives, who is extremely excited that I'm popping out a kid. So even though the baby will only be two and won't remember too much of it, i'm trying to figure out a way to save enough money in the next two years to travel to London that summer so that we can go see my Aunt and go on adventures. I want to take the baby to Colombia when she (or he) is four, just like I did. I'm already making plans for the torturous adventure to Disney World and I'm sure there's other stuff I'll come up with as I sit here, getting chubby and glorious.

I just want to go on adventures with people I love and experience life and prove that just because you get older, doesn't mean you get boring. It just means you move a little slower.

My First Baby Photo Shoot

I've been a pretty avid photographer for a long time. Even when I was young I was taking pictures and i realize that even though I didn't have that many friends in high school I still have a lot of pictures from high school. I didn't ever really refer to myself as a photographer until college, when I invested in my Canon Rebel my freshman year.

Photography is apparently something i'm just kind of good at, without really trying. If I could, I would have Photoshop and other such programs and would probably have a digital camera by now and I might even freelance from time to time. But right now, I have bigger things to deal with first. But one day, I will have it. And i'll be nerdy and do photoshoots and what not.

But even with only have a little digital Sony camera, I still get some pretty awesome shots. And I did a photo shoot with Baby Alex. These are some of my favs...

No, these are not edited yet. I really need photoshop. Bad.

This one is just my favorite, because his smile is just so damn cute.

The 2010 Self-Improvement Quest Update

Anytime any major self-improvement project comes along in my life, unless I am really into it, I need a motivator. I can handle the career improvements and educational improvements on my own, but unless I basically have someone slapping my ass and telling me to "GO GO GO!" or unless I have a really good reason to do something exercise or health wise, I probably won't do it.

As it turns out, being an expectant mom is quite a motivator. Yes, I should do these things for myself, but part of my problem is that I like to help people and by eating better and exercising, I'm helping my baby and then once the baby's born, I can set a good example by continuing to eat healthy and lose weight. I'm weird, but hey, I'll take what I can get.

While browsing my favorite bookstore, I stumbled upon two books that are quite helpful so far in my self-improvement quest "What to Expect When Expecting" and "The 50 Best Jobs for Your Personality". Along with common sense and a changing appetite, my diet has thoroughly changed over the last month and a half. "What to Expect" helped guide me along into learning exactly what I need to make sure I need to get in my system and how much of it to help my baby, but even before I got the book, I started to find myself leaning towards eating better snacks, better meals and drinking different items. Its tough. I had to give up my freaking coffee (because there is no freaking point in drinking Decaf, i might as well just drink hot water and tea, which helps with nausea, my freaking mortal enemy right now), I am trying to get myself to drink more milk everyday to increase my intake of calcium, which is not one of my favorite drinks. One of my bestestes' favorite meals includes yogurt, granola and fruit and I've been tearing it up! (OH MY GOD, Strawberries are awesome right now!) Salads have become a daily part of my life and I'm learning about the good fat I need to intake to help the baby grow. The worst part of all of this right now has been the nausea, which leaves me not wanting to eat at all and having to work past it so that I don't starve myself or the baby, but i don't make myself sick.

I started Yoga! It kicked my ass. I found the DVD at Wally World for 9 bucks and after reading and talking to my baby doctor, I went ahead and started working it out. I had to take a break a few times the first day I did it to get a better idea of what position I was doing and also because I am not the flexible yet (which leads me to worry about how i'm going to do this at 6 months when my belly is popping out more and my balance is not nearly as good). But I felt so much better stress wise and health wise. I'm going to have to find another DVD to watch because I think I'm going to get bored doing the same thing after a month or so and once the temps warm up around here (which should be within the next week to two weeks), i'm going to go walking around the lake near my house every other day and mix that up with the yoga. I'm impressed with my motivation right now and am totally running with it for all its worth. (Haha.)

Career improvement is so hard right now. I can't believe i'm saying that! But there is nothing more frustrating than going on job interviews at a temp agency, only to find out you are competing against 30 other people for a job! Its hard to be optimistic. I've also come the conclusion that I need to come up with some back up plans for future careers I can have in my life, but I have such a hard time coming up with stuff for myself, because I've been in such a rut the last several years that I don't even know what to do anymore. So while I was walking around the bookstore this weekend, I stumbled up "The 50 Best Jobs For Your Personality" and immediately grabbed it and ran home. In it, it tests your personality traits and breaks down where your interests lie in terms of realism, artisticness (?), research and 3 other categories. Its really helped me to start think outside the box in terms of things I might like to do in this next stage of my life. I still think I would like to find a job I can do from home for the next 5 years or so, so that I can raise the baby and get the experience all the cool stuff, so I've been doing research and trying to get through all the crap and scams and hopefully I'll find something legitimate soon.

Organization/ Minimization is going ok. The boy is pretty positive that I am never going to actually minimize my life down because I have a tendency to keep certain things that remind me of certain times of my life. I'm emotional and this is not my fault, it makes me a well-rounded person, damnit. But I have thrown out a lot of stuff. I think its going to be a constant work in progress until we move out. Whatever, I'll be happy if I get organized to where I know where my stuff is at.

Education is being turned on its head constantly. I have my two books that i'm reading through and my baby doctor gave me three different magazines which are giving me all kinds of ideas and knowledge on the little munchkin inside me. I'm pretty positive that I'm going to end up going back to school, which I have absolutely no idea how I'm going to do, except hoping that I'll be able to take a lot of my classes over the internet. A girl can dream, right? I dunno. We'll see how things go.

I have to say though, that I think my progress is way awesome considering its only a month and a half into the year. Onward and upward!