Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Running! Yes, real running according to me.

I have FINALLY got my running groove back. Could be the spring weather. Could be the emails of "X days left until your half marathon". Could be that I really do love it and was made for it like I swore I was when I hit 10 miles back in October. Okay. Yes, it wasn't 10. It was something like 9.93, but by the time I figured out the map I was half stripped down due to sweating that I had no desire to go back and finish the rest of the .07 so I say 10. Go run 9.93 miles. You'll say 10 too.

NO I haven't hit 10. Or 9 or even 8. I hit somewhere above 6 a while back and hit 6 this weekend. And felt GOOD. And did it in a GOOD pace. So that matters at this point more than the 8 or 9. I lost my mileage and my speed (well-it's MY speed) when snow fell. There are certain things I have noticed about upping my mileage as well. I can spit like my dad used to spit. For whatever crazy reason I was always in awe of his perfect aim. I know. I am weird. Well, I got it. Maybe not quite like him. I have yet to hit the leaf or twig I aim at, but it is so much closer than my usual of the spit hitting just outside my lips and getting lost somewhere between my cheek and ear. And my husband thinks I am so sexy cause I run. I don't think it's the spit aim. Probably more the silky tight running pants I wear. I hope anyway.

I also realized there are runners who are not part of the clique. Gasp! I know, right?! Yeah the ones who run right past you like you do not exist. They must think they're better than me. Or maybe I am just so fast I intimidate them. Yeah, that must be it. At that moment I am super speedy. Cause all the other runners I pass see me and wave or do that real stiff, practiced head nod. Yeah, we know how to show some respect. I especially love the ones who run past on the opposite side and leave a sweet smelling aura like they had to have just stepped out of the shower and bathed in a field of roses. One can only dream I smell that awesome as they pass me cause when I stop, I sure do not smell roses. Maybe dead ones. That sat in a car. For like 10 years.

Running is my release. I pray. I think about life. I choke up sometimes and have to stop thinking about life. It's okay. I am red-faced anyway. No one notices. I seriously feel that if everyone started running they would love it as much as me. I was never a runner either so they would have to, right? Then I need to remind myself that is not the case and no one that doesn't run doesn't want to hear about my pace time. Or the horrible side cramp I got at mile 3. Or how I felt like I was going to crap my pants at mile 4 and at mile 5 I wouldn't be able to tell you if I really did or not (for the record I have never, but man that would be hardcore). Only my husband seems somewhat interested in hearing those details. It must be the sexy pants that I am usually still wearing when I go off on what I like to call "a runner tangent". He is thoroughly impressed. Always.

So I started my half-marathon training last week for the 3rd time. Then this week I missed the first 2 workouts. I could run the next 3 days and get them in but that would be insane. Yes. I like that idea ;)

Monday, March 18, 2013

Me, Myself and I

I did some reading back in my blog. One of the last few posts I left off wondering if I was going through postpartum depression. Now I fully remember why I stopped the blog pretty much. My little dandy blessed life hit me in the face. I had issues. Issues I did not like or care to admit to anyone. Just select few. And when I say few I think maybe 2 people. My sister and my husband. It was a dark place. I always thought PPD was where you laid in bed all day (or wanted to) you never smiled, you didn't like your kids, etc. I know. I was dumb. Mine was give me an excuse to blow cause I am gonna blow anyway. I tried the whole "go in the other room and count to 10". That made me blow harder. Laila and I were at each others throats. I honestly thought I was going to hurt her something awful and not be allowed to be her mommy anymore. There. I said it. I admitted to blog land what I only somewhat admitted to my husband. In the dark. Through my tears. I was going to crack and my whole world I have lived for was going to come shattering down on me. I wasn't like that all the time. And to be honest Laila pushed my buttons a lot. I know many of you are like "what?! Laila? Really?!" Yes, my sweet shy girl can come unhinged too! Only she became unhinged and I exploded. Which made her explode which made it awful. I made an appointment with my midwife. I pondered what I wanted to come of that appointment. It came down to for once in my life I wanted drugs. Not that that is the easy way out, but I wanted her to sign me over an RX, go against all my beliefs of natural is best, and drug me up. I couldn't stand myself any more way too often than I cared to admit. Well the midwife wasn't having it. I walked out of there grateful actually. I was supposed to workout, take specific vitamins, read the book "Raising the Strong Willed Child", and see a psychiatrist. Well that was too much $$ and I never got around to getting the book so I did the other three things. Well, when I worked out the kids needed me. That works for every mom, right? Want your kids attention? Go workout. Want the kids to be hungry? Go workout. Want them to fight with each other? Go workout. So then I just got frustrated even more. So fast-forward a little bit. I go to a regular OBGYN to get my tubes tied, burnt, wrestled down in a choke hold. Whatever it took. No. More. babies. He's coaxing me: "Are you sure? Girl and boy? What about....-"  I interrupt him. "Fragile X sir. I am a carrier of fragile X". "Oh" big red "approved" across my chart. Now we're talking. So by the way doc, I am going insane. I want to rip my daughters hair out. Can I have drugs? Get a RX for Xanax. I felt like a kid in the candy store. I go home and can't wait to try them out!! It was only days. It was Curt this time. Only he has no hair for me to rip out so I was yelling obscenities to him from the back porch to his garage. Those that know our house know my voice needed to be kinda loud. Yes, I have checked. Our neighbors still love us. So, I go to take my "happy pill". I am standing there as if I am going to see rainbows shoot across the kitchen and flowers pop up and sway in the wind. Nothing. I go sit on the porch. Steaming mad still. Probably sending dirty looks towards the garage. Then it hits me. I can barely keep my eyes open. I am still raving pissed, but too darn tired to do anything about it! Which pisses me off even more, but I am still too tired to do anything about it. I fall asleep. Wake up still pissed but tired and annoyed at my "candy". Ugh (but they were AWESOME for the trip to Vegas where I needed to be just knocked the F out before I screamed "we are ALL GONNA DIE IN A PLANE CRASH" while on the plane).  So no candyland fix for me.

But in that moment it hit me. Okay, maybe it was weeks later, but soon after, it hit me. I am doing this. I can fix this. It is just me and I am at the breaking point of full blown losing Laila. Losing whatever relationship I have with her cause she is going to hate me for the rest of my life. It was like a snap. I don't know if it was about to end anyway. A combination of tried and fail of one medicine or whatever. Do I think all women who suffer with PPD can pull themselves out of it? No way. But I do feel in this society we are quick to medicate. That is not the thing for me and luckily for me it worked! I somehow pulled myself together pretty well when I needed too and for some reason it was like laila and I had a silent bond. We just clicked again. We were easier on each other. We had more patience. So I guess I can't take all the credit. She's pretty strong herself :)

Do I still yell? Oh yeah. But it's controlled yelling ;) And I don't feel like I am turning green, with horns coming out of my head, and snarly teeth complete with claws like I did on those scary scary moments. Moments I still shudder thinking about. Moments that I am forever ashamed to admit I ever visited. But you learn from your past. Laila and I both did. She has the mommy she deserves now and I am forever grateful for her patience and forgiving love.

Monday, March 11, 2013

Time flies when....

you're a mom, a wife, a cook, a maid, a chauffeur, a student, a runner, a friend, a daughter, and....when you're having fun being ALL of those things. Wow. Four years have gone by since I last wrote. Okay maybe not that long, but pretty much. I basically closed my blog to public then figured, what was the point of writing anyway then?! Well...last I left off Evan was a baby I think. He's not any more!! Almost 5, kindergarten next year, full of attitude and control-freakishness. For the record, I have NO idea what-so-ever where he gets that from. Must be his daddy ;)  Laila was 4ish. She's 7 1/2. Yes, better not forget the 1/2. Such an amazing young lady full of attitude too. Again, from her daddy. I cannot contain myself in how blessed I am to have these little beings in my life. And the big dude. He's pretty darn awesome too. Full of drive, love and attitude. Don't forget the attitude. See? I told you the kids get it from him. Proof right there baby.

As for me, I love being a mom. Back in school cause I have yet to fulfill my other dream of being a teacher. One day. I swear. One day I will be Mrs. Brown the teacher. The desire is in full force. Could be that Evan is going to be in school full time and I BETTER do something else because the above things listed in the first sentence of this blog are surely not enough. No. They really aren't. I never wanted to be a stay at home. Then my baby girl came. What on earth was I ever thinking I would not LIVE EVERY BREATH for this thing. So of course, stay at home mommy I became and loved, and I mean LOVED every moment of it. Was it hard? Oh yeah. But worth all of it? Heck yeah! So...when I say my dream of being a teacher rates right up there with being a stay at home mom...I mean that teaching would be a major dream come true. I fill out applications for jobs and cry. I practice my lessons on my kids and cry. I get all giddy to help in the school (and yes, I cry a little). I feel it way down deep in my bones. I was BORN to teach. Not my own kids. Oh hell no. But everyone else kids? Bring 'em on!! I once sat across from a principal stating my strong desire to teach. I began to cry. Totally embarrassed. Then she cried and it was all good :)

I also run. A little. Back in October it was a lot. Then the cold hit and now it is a little hoping to be a lot. Soon. I heard birds out there recently so I will get my long runs back!

I guess back to life as we know it. I have no idea why I am starting this back up. Maybe it will be boring and I will say I surely can't fit "blogger" in the above sentence too!! (What is blogger anyway? Someone who just blogs or someone who REALLY blogs?).  This blog started out as a release for my pain through all my losses. And holy crap there were many. Too many, but the mountains we overcame and the people, family and spouses we are because of it? I would never in a million years change a thing. A friend recently had an analogy about miscarriage. It's like a scrape on your arm. It heals. There will probably always be a scar. Sometimes before that scar comes and it is healing, it may break open again. Maybe bleed or just sting. It may do it a few times, but eventually it will heal and a scar will form. You will always notice the scar. You will always remember how it got there. That is 100% true. There is still that wound, Healed for sure. Scarred over? yes. But it can still break open. And man that hits you out of no where sometimes! It has been a while since I have felt the raw pain from the losses. Years maybe even. But then a moment hits you. Like when I walked into my first day of my class this semester at college. My stomach clenched. I felt an aura come over me something awful. Then I realized that classroom was the class that I lost my first baby in back in 2006. I wasn't IN class, but I started that class pregnant, came back the next week not. And I didn't break down. It was almost healing to realize the sour feeling. I understood. Damn right I would feel that way, but damn right I have come so far since then. I don't pass every due date anymore and think "I would have had a X year old too". I don't realize it is an "anniversary" of a loss every.time. Some dates, yes, but most I don't. Finally for Evan's fourth birthday I didn't cry. I didn't look at him with tears in my eyes, hugging him till he begged me to stop because I STILL could not believe he was HERE. MINE!! How I love that word. Mine. He is all mine. Okay, yes I share him. A little. Don't ask my mom though. She will say I never do. But anyway. I didn't blubber like a baby, thanking God he is here. Nope. All that came a few days later ;) At least he can say for the first time in his four years mommy didn't practically smother him on his birthday. No promises for the big 5 son.

So...I am thinking this will be a new blog about my normal life now. My transition from getting my groove back with running to being a half-marathoner. My transition from stay at home mom, to mom who subs and begs for a teaching job.  From being insane wife who complains all the time to being insane wife who complains all the time. Yes, no typos there. He's loved me for almost 9 years being that so why would I disappoint him and become someone new?! No, really. I have complained a LOT less these last few years. When your hubby spends 6 months off work and you CRY the day he goes back cause you're gonna miss him something terrible? Yeah. You realize you got it bad for that guy. Plus he's pretty darn cute. And he promised to start cleaning the bathrooms for me. All those combined make for a pretty good catch :)

So enjoy. Or yawn and say "why did she ever open this up again?". We shall see where it goes :)

Thursday, February 26, 2009

This boy will be 5 foot tall in kindergarten

I just know it. He is only a half a pound and an inch smaller than Laila was at one year and 12 days. He was one day shy of 6 months w/ these measurements! He's 27 3/4 inches and 18.8 pounds. Dropped a little in his weight curve, but Dr. R tends to see that around 6 months. I was told to try to get him to nurse longer, but when he's done, he's done. My supply is too great and fast for him to hang out w/ drips. So, hopefully he picks up great on the food. He loves carrots and so did Laila. Not too fond of green beans though and neither was his cousin Hayden. Liked the pears okay. I can't get him to eat his cereal in the morning though. Clamps his mouth shut, with his lower lipped tucked in and just grunts at me. He's sitting up really good unsupported which doc said was a 9 month thing. I never knew that. I wouldn't sit him and walk away, but he can sit for a few minutes or longer on his own if he tries hard enough. And I know he's not saying mama, but when he gets upset it so sounds like it and I love it!

As for little Miss Laila, she's great. I am being such a bad mom to her though. I am so crabby lately. I really need to work on having more patience and time for her. She's becoming such a little girl. She told me milk comes form a cow. You squeeze it's butt and it comes out in a bucket! Everything in that area is a butt to her. I'm surprised she didn't argue w/ the pre-school teacher saying milk comes from a boob cause she's informed me that "Evan is heavy cause he's too much out your boob". Nice. She is so good w/ her manners and will scrape her plate off and put it in the sink after dinner most nights. And we used to let her fall asleep to a movie in her room, but I retrained her to fall asleep on her own after books. She does really well with it and even headed off to bed one night on her own after telling Curt she was tired! I think the time together reading, singing and praying is great for her.

As for me, I'm all messed up. I am so crabby and sometimes feel like I'm about to literally blow. I dropped Laila off at pre-school a few weeks ago and came back and sat on the couch just looking around for something to snap about. I feel all shaky sometimes too. I was chatting w/ a mom form my church about this and she mentioned looking into post-partum depression. I couldn't believe that it would kick in at 6 months, but she said that's when hers did. So I am scraping my feet about calling the doctor. I just feel weird about it all. I know it's "normal", but I don't want to be one of the moms w/ those "issues". Not that I think it's issues, but it's a bit embarrassing to admit. We'll see what happens. I'm trying to get myself back on track first. Plus w/ nursing, I'm not sure what/if anything would be okay to take. It doesn't help that Curt and I are not on the best of terms. I started realizing that it was always me pulling us out of our slumps or getting us to go out. We went out last Friday and it took me a good half an hour to get him to really start to have fun. It's tiring to be the only one trying to cheer up the family. I know he does a LOT for us, but it's not like I sit at home w/ my bon bons, watch soap opera's and bark orders at the nanny and maid. And on top of that he knows how much I appreciate what he does and how much I support him in EVERYthing he does. SO far as threatening divorce should he decide to sell his "66 chevy project trucks he's been working on for the last 4 years. It's his dream and I won't let him begin to not think so. On top of that I am also feeling envious. He gets time off. Yes, he's busy, but he does get those hours where he can sit in front of the TV and watch his shows or lallygag on the computer. Laila will go right past Curt in the kitchen to come ask me for a drink if I'm doing that stuff. Or the fact that I've only "slept" 8 hours straight w/o getting up (I've been woken up) maybe twice in the last 6 months, or heck, probably the last year since being pregnant! And every time we go out, I either pay for my own night or I pick up kids who haven't eaten all night or are throwing up. I think..Did I really get a night out or was that a dream???

I guess it's all part of being a mom. I most days take it w/ a grain of salt, but not so much lately.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Hello everyone! I imagine everyone is as sick of winter as I am. At least Curt's over-time as slowed down a little for the sake of all our sanity.

As I stated in January, we got Evan tested for fragile X and the results are in............................


He's not a carrier either. We were very emotional about hearing the news. Not that we would not love him no matter what, but we are just extra blessed. Every child is a true miracle, but I feel that both of our kids have a little extra miracle dust in them. Everything was easy w/ Laila. We got pregnant right away, no complications. Then to get hit w/ four miscarriages, we began to really think that she was a miracle beyond miracles. What made her so special in God's eyes to have her "work". Then we get surprised w/ Evan's pregnancy, scared to death of what will lie ahead. Then we get the fragile X diagnosis that I'm a carrier. At that point we knew, no matter what, that God wanted him here. Had we not been as fertile as we are, and not gotten pregnant, we would have stopped w/ just Laila after having that diagnosis. God wanted him here and to bless us extra w/o having to embrace a FX diagnosis is remarkable. I prayed my thanks to God the day we got the news and I had the hardest time ending the pray w/ a simple amen. Let alone ending it at all. How do you stop saying thank you, when your blessings are out of this world? The word "thank you" seems so petty w/ this. The dryer can break, the taxes can go up, but what is most important in our lives in side our four walls is here. A healthy and happy family.

And speaking of... here is my healthy and happy, family. I think one pic may be a video of sledding?

Monday, January 26, 2009

Evan's allergy results are in....

NEGATIVE for EVERYTHING?!?!?!?! How on earth is that possible? I posted on my "dairy-free moms" message board and some think the tests aren't that accurate when they are so little. My theory is is he's growing out of it, cause he is at the age where some kids do, and we tested "too late". There's no way he became a whole new child 3 days after taking out dairy at 3 weeks old just by coincidence-no way. Lately, I have been sneaking a lot and he seems fine. Before when I'd sneak, he'd be affected, if even just a little. Now, I just hope I can still "pretend" that he is allergic cause I don't want that weight piling back on.

We'll see what the doc says when I go in next month for his 6 week check-up. And...Happy 5 month Birthday to my big boy!! And since Laila claimed it was her birthday too (feeling left out since mine was this weekend), Happy 3 years, 6 months and 21 day birthday to Laila!

My birthday night was soo fun. I am very mad at the mini stage though. We went out dancing and of course the mini-stage just had to have me dance on it. And they had to play PYT by Michael Jackson so I had to go all out to my boy MJ. I couldn't just dance normally w/ people watching either so I had to kick it up a notch. I have sore muscles where I did not even think muscles existed. But, it was all worth it! Laila and Curt made me a birthday card that Laila made me put in my purse to take out that night. It was very cute. Then Curt was getting crabby w/ me earlier in the day (okay-we were both crabby) and when he went to the garage I was complaining to Laila how "daddy needs to be nice to me since it's my birthday and he needs to get me a present". So I'm vacuuming a few minutes alter and Curt makes me stop and says "By orders from your daughter" and kissed me and hugged me. Laila had told him that "it's mommy's birthday and you have to be nice to her and give her a kiss and hug and we have to get her a present". I'm training her well ;-)

P.S. Thanks to all for the birthday wishes and who helped make it a fun night!

Saturday, January 24, 2009

The BEST Birthday present EVER!!!!!

Yes-I'm going to brag and yes, it's my 28th birthday today. I stepped on the scale on Tuesday of this week and realized I lost almost 4 1/2 pounds since January 1st!! I've done NO exercising unless you count shoveling the driveway once (it is pretty long-13 cars comfortably) or dancing for 20 minutes w/ Laila. I stepped on it today-another pound gone! I am not one that fluctuates at all-day night-doesn't matter. I only fluctuate when I workout, then I gain. pants are baggy and my undies are beyond grandma looking. So I dare to go into the "skinny bin". Pulled out clothes I haven't seen since either before Laila was born, or w/in the year after before I hit my year of stress beyond stress. I am sitting here in my Beacon Elementary sweatshirt, nursing tank and you betcha-my skinny pink dress pants!!!!!!!!!! I haven't even brushed my teeth yet-eewww! I had a changing fest complete w/ modeling show for Curt. Of course he does not remember any of the clothes-lol. But I fit into my comfy khakis I haven't worn since BEFORE Laila was born and they were baggy!! Almost not appealing baggy! Also my pants I was wearing when we announced her pregnancy at 4 weeks pregnant (ahh-the crazy times of not being scared!) and the ones I could barely squeeze into one year post partum w/ her. they are still a squeeze, but hey-they work!

Yay yay yay! Happy birthday to me! So it does not matter that I still have to clean the house today while Curt cuddles w/ Evan on the couch. I got a pretty good B-day present anyway.

Bless you son for being allergic to dairy!!! Sorry I ever said you were still wrecking havoc on my body!