Tarzan & I were in Vegas without Monkey.  It was a great time, complete with no schedules, routines, or other people to worry about.  The biggest decisions were what kind of drinks to order, what shows to see, & what table to gamble on.  It was such a change from my current reality & it was a very nice & well-needed break.

But then real life came crashing down once our plane touched down in Houston.  We had to meet my mom to pick up Monkey & found ourselves immediately rushing around.  Nothing in Vegas was rushed, so being thrusted back into it pretty much sucked, for lack of better words.

We were so incredibly excited to see Monkey so it didn’t matter.  We’d only been away from him one other time & this time was different.  In Vegas I found myself looking around at the other babies & missing Monkey terribly.  It didn’t help that every time he heard my voice on the phone he freaked out.  I was sad & missed my little boy a lot.

So when my mom offered for him to stay with her one more night, there was no way that I could do that.  We were really eager to see him.

But Oh. My. Gosh.

After being up late the night before, being stuck in the Vegas airport for a few hours, & flying, I just wanted to crash on the couch… but I couldn’t because there was a little person that needed to be taken care of.  Oh right, that’s the way that I wanted it, I remembered.

Luckily it was around Monkey’s bedtime, so we just gave him a bath & put him to bed.  I thought that I was all ready to just resume my routine the next day, but I found myself dragging & not doing anything.  And the same rang true until today.  Today I’m getting us back to our usual activities because I need it.  & Monkey is probably bored.

I started weaning off my anti-depressant in April.  By May 1st, I was completely off of it.  I was exercising daily & doing many activities with other moms & babies.  I felt great & would often tell Tarzan, “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”  & it was all true.

But this past week happened & I’ve felt overwhelmed.  I’ve been thisclose to losing my patience with Monkey.  I’ve yelled at Tarzan.  I’ve been lazy with taking medicine (stupid, I know).  I bought SlimQuick (diet pill) on a whim because I was feeling fat.  Monkey & I haven’t hung out with other moms & babies either.  Last night I realized that while I’m not depressed, I’m not in a healthy place at the moment.

& that scares me.

Last night I was telling Tarzan that it’s like a ripple effect:  When I exercise in the morning, the rest of my day is good.  I make better choices when it comes to food.  I have more patience all around.  It’s just a lot better.  & when I don’t exercise, the ripple isn’t good.  I find myself beating myself up about my weight.  I pick on myself any chance I get.  I fight with my husband over the dumbest things.  It’s just not good.

& believe it or not, for me, it’s all about making the initial choice to exercise in the morning.  Who knew?!

So today Monkey & I are exercising & we are going to go back to our normal activities.  I know that it suits me so much better & takes me to a happy place.  A true place of joy.  I am a better mom & wife.  My house does not look like a tornado has come through it.  I have more patience with my husband & am just a nicer person.  Plus, I feel so much better about myself & that’s worth its weight in gold to me.

It’s probably all about balance in life.  It’s the same with being a wife & a mother.  I think it’s just something that I have to learn & figure out.  But I’ll tell you this right now, & I never thought that I would say it, having a routine seems to suit me & my baby in a very healthy way.

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I had a ton of questions about breastfeeding: if I was doing it right, if Monkey was getting enough milk, and all the other questions that new moms have when they are breastfeeding.

One of my “newer” friends volunteered to come over & try to help me out.  When she came over, my dog was acting super needy & I seemed to be catering to his every need.  She said, “Doesn’t your dog get on your nerves at times now that you have a baby?”

I thought about that question in the next few seconds & decided not to answer it because, no, he does not get on my nerves.  My dog & his needy ways were what I was used to & I knew that I could provide comfort to him & give him what he wanted.  It was comfortable for me & not nearly as annoying as trying to figure out a new baby & being a new mom.

Then my friend went on to say how her dog was her baby before the real baby came along & now she realizes that her dog is, well, a dog.  Not a baby & not superiority to her son.

Obviously I was not in a place to agree with her.  I would have taken caring for my dog any day over trying to take care of my new baby.  I didn’t even know if I could do the whole mom thing, but I was confident that I was a good “mom” to my dog.

Strangely enough, this past memory popped into my head yesterday & I can’t stop thinking about her words.  They resonate with me now & I understand what she was trying to say back then.  & I do finally agree.

I love my dog & he was my baby before having Monkey.  But, when it comes down to it, he is just a dog & not a real life baby.  A dog & a baby’s needs are not the same.  I know that he means well, but he does get on my nerves here & there because he’s become even more needy lately.  & it’s just hard to try to take care of a baby & be the same “mom” to my dog that I was prior to Monkey.

It’s not hard actually, but near impossible.  I do strive to give my dog the attention he needs (& I think I do a pretty good job at it), but Monkey comes first.  He’s the real live baby that needs his mom more than anything.

That being said, I do still take our dog on walks, give him lots of belly rubs at night & when Monkey is content playing on his own.  I give him treats throughout the day & try to include him in our playtime, though he still isn’t too fond of Monkey.

Looking back, I know that dealing with postpartum depression really clouded my views as a new mom trying to figure out the new baby thing.  But boy am I glad that I got past that & realize how important & special my little boy is to me.

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So now, being 17 weeks into being a stay at home mom, are my feelings still the same?  Not at all.

But, are there days or moments in the day when I wish I could escape?  Absolutely.  Especially this afternoon.

Before I get into the story, I just want to say that my husband and I are in agreement with one another.  We have a unique situation in that neither of us work from 8am-5pm.  We both stay at home & we are both extremely busy.  Right after Monkey was born, Tarzan started a new company & he’s been really busy.

I’m telling you this so that you don’t rag on my husband.  He works a lot.  & I mean a lot.  Like from the time he wakes up until he goes to bed.  We don’t really go on dates lately & I take care of Monkey pretty much all of the time.  Obviously, this is not what we both want, but it is what is needed so that he can get his business going… You know, like putting in time now to reap the rewards in the future.

Point is that we are 100% on the same page about everything.  We know that it won’t always be like this & that it just continues to get better.

But, I’m not going to lie, it’s hard at times… Like this afternoon.

It was 4pm & I hadn’t eaten lunch yet.  I was starving.  Monkey & I had been running errands all day so he was hungry & a bit cranky from missing out on a good, solid nap in the afternoon.  Our dog was crying because he was hungry too.  I was sitting on the floor in the living room, trying to eat my Weight Watchers frozen meal & was about to lose my mind.

Monkey was in his jumperoo because I was hoping that would keep him entertained for the five minutes it took to scarf my food down.  My dog kept rubbing his nose on my leg because he wanted food.  And Tarzan was just laying on the couch with his laptop completely oblivious to what was going on.  I was pissed.

I got up, took my food into our bedroom, & shut the door.  I was only in there for maybe three minutes but it was nice to sit there in the quietness & just take it all in.  I came back out, fed our dog, made a bottle, & fed my son.  My husband was still on his laptop.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I get that he has to work.  But I told him prior to going into our bedroom to eat, “Go upstairs & work in your office.”  It’s too hard for me to have him in the living room or at the kitchen table during the day.  He’s there, so I expect him to help.  It’s that simple.  If he was upstairs, he would be out of my sight & I feel like I would have a better grip on everything.

I think times like these are normal though & I try my very best to not let it bother me.  I know that I’m so happy that I get to stay at home with my son & I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  It’s just a bit overwhelming when things are going crazy from all ends & I’m just one person.  I can only do so much & take care of so many people/dogs.  You know?

Right when my little alarm clock (Monkey) wakes me up, my day starts.  I change his diaper, change his clothes, make his bottle.  While his bottle is warming, I unload the dishwasher and then reload it if necessary.  I don’t have time to really wake up and take my time.  It starts right away.

After I feed Monkey I put him in the bumbo & get my breakfast ready.  I get out two bowls for cereal/oatmeal, three spoons (cereal & coffee), two coffee mugs, two pods for the Keurig, and the agave nectar that we use.  I put everything on the island in our kitchen & go fill up the coffee for the Keurig.

Once my cereal is made & my coffee is ready, I put Monkey in his crib & turn on his mobile.  It plays for exactly 20 minutes, so that’s how long I have to eat my breakfast & drink my coffee.  When the mobile turns off, I get him from his crib & change his diaper.  Then he plays in the jumperoo for 10-20 minutes.  Then we play on the floor with his toys, do neck exercises, & tummy time.

And then it’s time for his next bottle and his first nap of the day.  By this time, two hours has already passed.

During his nap, I do laundry & clean up around the house.  I pick up things from the night before.  Take the dog outside.  Take a shower.  Check my blog, Facebook, Twitter, & People.com.

I’ll spare you the rest of the play-by-play of my day, but basically I am there for my son when he’s awake.  I’m always taking care of him, my husband, or the dog.  Tarzan works all of the time, so Monkey is my job, if you will.  From the time he wakes up until the time he goes to bed, all seven days of the week.  It’s the most exhausting job I’ve ever had & the worst paying one too, but I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.

I will say that I cannot wait until my husband has a little more free time though.  I know that it’s hard for him to not be spending so much time with Monkey & that makes me sad.  When I told him to go upstairs in his office today, he told me that he likes being downstairs with us so that he can be around still.

I know that he’s working so hard now for our family & that’s why I’m okay with it.  I don’t know too many people who would be okay without ever really having a break, but it seems to be working… Until I have little breakdowns & need to eat lunch in my bedroom for some peace & quiet.  And then blog about it all to get it off of my chest.

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I went into my bathroom with a pregnancy test.  I was nervous as hell & prayed that the infamous plus sign would not show up.  As soon as I was finished peeing on the stick I saw the plus sign.

I was pregnant.

Oh holy hell, this could not be happening to me, I remember thinking.

I really thought that little plus sign was the end of my life as I knew it.  It did not stir up any excitement for me.  I was not ready to be a mom.  I didn’t know how to be a mom.  I didn’t know how my life would change & I was not convinced that I was ready to find out just how different things would be.

To say that I was scared was an understatement.  A big understatement.

Fast-forward to this morning.  My period was two days late.

What’s two days, right?

Well I didn’t have “that” feeling that I was pregnant like I did before, but I still thought it was odd that I was two days late.  I’m on the pill & it’s pretty much like clockwork: Stop taking the last pill Saturday night & Monday I’m greeted by Aunt Flow.  Easy.

Naturally my mind started to wonder about what if I was pregnant.  That would mean that I would have two kids under 13 months old.  Could I handle it?  Would I feel like I was, in a very slight way, being selfish to Monkey since I would have pregnancy fatigue & morning sickness?

Well I didn’t have to keep pondering about the what if’s of pregnancy because my period & cramps showed up about an hour later.  I was more happy than not, but I’ll admit it… the mere thought of being blessed with another child did put a smile on my face.

See, I’m totally not the same person that I was when I was pregnant with Monkey.  I guess having a baby does that to you.  I am forever changed after meeting the life that I helped to create.  I will never be the same.

Once I feared talking about strollers & diapers & now I don’t mind talking baby.  In fact, I like it.  Like it’s part of me & I’m totally okay with that.  I enjoy it.

I feel like I now have a purpose in life.  I am a mother & I’ve never been so happy in all of my life.  I’ve never known the depth of my heart until having my son.  Nothing else is as important to me.  Nothing in the world.

He makes my world a much brighter place.  His smile melts me & his baby smell is one that I never tire of.  In fact, I take it all in throughout the day – just holding him & smelling him while he is close to me.

Prior to Monkey I thrived on the fact that I didn’t have a routine; every single day was different, including the time that I would wake up in the morning.  I was so far from having a schedule back then & it fit the person I was.

Now, I have a routine, very predictable, & I love it.  I love waiting up in the morning to sing songs to my little boy.  I love bathing him & bonding during that time.  I love feeding him his last bottle & then putting him to bed so that I can have my time.  I just love all of the parts of the day.  I love, love, love playing with him too.

When I first had Monkey & was dealing with postpartum depression, I couldn’t wait to get away from him.

Now I’m the complete opposite.  My mom asked me the other day when she could keep him for a night or a weekend & I told her “not for a while”.  I’m not ready.  I know that I will miss him too much & I don’t want to be away from him for a night yet.  I have no idea when that will change… maybe when he goes through the “terrible two’s”.  LOL.

When I ran errands, I didn’t want to bring him.

Now I hang out at the house until he wakes up from his nap so that he can go run errands with me.  I don’t look at it as a hassle anymore either.  If I’m running errands close to the house, I don’t even bring a diaper bag.  I put a few necessities in the car & that’s it.  Sure, it takes a few minutes longer to get Monkey out of the car seat to go into a store, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.  He’s my little buddy & I just love spending time with him.

I never knew the amount of love that a little baby could bring into my world & I’m so very thankful for my son every single day of my life.  He makes me whole & makes me a better person.  I smile all of the time.  I talk to him all of the time.  I do the craziest & silliest things in public just to get him to smile.  I don’t care how stupid I look – I just care about my son smiling at me.

He is my world & my heart belongs to him.

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To say that this whole mess doesn’t bother me is an understatement.  It bothers me so much, but I just don’t know what to do about the whole situation.  I had a breakdown the other day while talking to one of my best friends on the phone.  I feel so many different things: sad, angry, hurt, confusion, and the list goes on.

I cannot, for the life of me, understand what would make a father not talk to his daughter for this period of time.  I can’t imagine doing this same thing to Monkey, but as Tarzan reminded me, I’m nothing like my dad.  I’ve been so hurt for his actions my whole life that I strive to be the very opposite of him.  I’ve been successful at that too.  But I’m not emotionless.

& I can’t help but take on some of the blame.  Maybe if I would have done this differently, or said that differently.  But the truth of the matter is that I am an adult & have every right to speak what is on my mind, even if that means my dad not talking to me for two months.

It’s just so sad really.  I’m heartbroken.  I never thought that I would have family drama & issues at 29 years old.

Not to pat myself on the back, but I am a very good person.  I have a very good heart.  If I love you, I will do absolutely anything for you.  I’m loyal.  So if I’m all these great things, how come the one person that should see this doesn’t & won’t talk to me?  You should have your parent’s unconditional love.

Your parents are the people that you should be able to go to no matter what.  Good times, bad times, times that you need help, etc.  How come the love that I strive to have from my dad is non-existent?  What did I do that was so bad that he can withhold from having a father/daughter relationship with me?  How can he deny me this love that I should have a right to?

It’s such a let-down.  A huge disappointment.  & I can’t help but desperately wish that things were different.

Obviously this & a lot more has been weighing on my mind for some time now.  It’s just not normal to go this long without talking to a son, daughter, dad, or mom.  What you don’t know is that I sent my dad an email on October 20th.  This Tuesday will mark three weeks & you guessed it, I haven’t heard back from him.

I poured my heart out to him in this email.  I said everything that was on my mind & hoped that he would respond, but I think that I expected, deep down, for him not to.  & my gut feeling was correct.

I sent the email to all three email addresses that I have & two of them came back undeliverable.  I knew that his gmail was still current though – That’s the email that I’ve used in the past.

Of course my mind starts f*cking with me though… Maybe the gmail account is suddenly inactive.  Maybe he switched email addresses & deleted that one.  And on and on.

Well last night was all the confirmation that I needed.  I received an email from his gmail address.  It was titled “Sunday”, so I had hope.  Maybe, just maybe, he realized how he was hurting me & wanted to get together this Sunday to talk about everything & make it right.

There was so much anticipation as I clicked on the subject of the email so that I could read it & then a ton of disappointment as I started to read:

“Do you guys want to come over on Sunday to watch the game? Starts at 12 noon (right after church).”

REALLY?????

There are so many things wrong with that email.  First, there’s the hurt that I sent my email to the correct email address & he chose to ignore all of my feelings.  Next, there’s the fact that he added something about church.  Yes, he goes to church weekly, but how can he do that when he can’t speak with his own daughter or acknowledge the fact that he hasn’t talked to her in 8 weeks?  Then, there just the awe that he would actually send me this kind of email.  Like I’m just going to pretend that everything is grand & we will just ignore all of my feelings??

Sorry, I don’t work like that.

As I sit here typing this crap out, I keep glancing at my little boy in his swing.  He’s such an angel & I can’t think of anything that he would do that would cause me to hurt him in the way that I’m hurt.  Drugs, Teenage Years, even Murder.  Even though I wouldn’t agree with that, he’s my little boy.  I would always be there… Let’s just hope that he doesn’t do any of the above things.

I feel like all of this drama is so far gone that my dad & I will never be able to have a real relationship.  Deep down I’ve been so hurt by this, that I would be scared to let myself try to.  But I have no closure & I’m not sure where to go from here.  I have no idea how to not let this bother me & take a toll on my daily life.  No idea how to be stronger than the sad feelings I have that cause me to cry about this.  No clue.

Besides this stuff going on with my dad, I would say that my life is close to perfect.  My little boy is healthy.  My husband is healthy.  I’m healthy.  We are all so happy to have one another & that is something you can’t put a price tag on.  I realize just how precious my family is to me & I’m thankful for my husband and my son every single day.  Sure there are little things here & there that could stand to improve (more money, anyone?), but the things that matter the most are in tact… & I wouldn’t change that for the world.

So where do I go from here?  I think I need to schedule another therapy appointment for help with this one…

Do I ignore the email about Sunday?  After all, my email & feelings were ignored, so should I just play the same game?  It’s not my nature sadly.

Do we go to their house & put on a fake smile & pretend that things are all right?  Not my nature either.  & not what would be considered healthy in my opinion.

Do we go to their house & act distant to my dad?  That just seems like it would be really awkward.

Do I email him back that we will not be spending time with him until my email has been discussed?  This brings up a whole lot of emotions as I’m not sure that I can handle it all.

What about the holidays coming up?

I just don’t know about any of it.  I’m so confused & so bothered.  I’m hurt.  I’m pissed off.  I’m sad.  I can’t say that I’m hopeful either.  It just all seems like a big clusterf*ck that I’m stuck in & I don’t know how to get out.

I might as well include the email that I sent to my dad, word for word, in this post too.

“Dad,

I’m not really sure where to start…  Just to clarify before I start typing, I’m sending you an email because it’s easier to get out everything that I want to say to you.  Also, I hope that I don’t come across being rude.  If it does come across that way, please just know that I’m speaking from my heart and I am hurt.

My whole life I’ve wanted & wished that I was a daddy’s girl.  I wish that you & I had a special deep bond with one another.  I’ve looked at other girls & been envious of their relationships with their dads.  Now I know that I had a good life & that you were a good father, but the things that I remember don’t completely fit.

What do I remember?

I remember feeding the ducks on Saturdays.  I remember doing the father/daughter sock hop.  I remember you buying lots of Girl Scout cookies so that I could win prizes.  I remember fun family vacations.

But I also remember you not talking to me, my brother, or mom at any given time for any given reason.  I remember being scared if you & mom were going to get a divorce when I was younger because of silly arguments.  I remember a friend not wanting to come over to our house in high school because she said that there was so much tension & it was like a war zone in there.  I remember Christmas being canceled because you & my brother weren’t talking.  I remember you not talking to me for about 6-7 months in 2003 because I went on a cruise with an ex-boyfriend.

I remember my biggest fear on the days leading up to my wedding was if you & mom would be talking or not & whether that would make my wedding day weird.

It’s sad memories, but they are true memories.

I really hope that this doesn’t all seem like word vomit coming up right now.  I’ve been talking to a therapist about postpartum depression, but that’s actually in the past now.  I am completely fine & normal once again.  My last few sessions have been about my relationship with you.

The father/daughter relationship that you & I have always had has been more on a superficial level, if you will.  What I mean by that is that we’ve never talked substance.  My “opening” up to you about something on a deep level was shot down when you made it about me & you telling me adamantly that I was not allowed to have a glass of wine.

Please know that I know that your words came out of concern for me & postpartum depression, however, what you don’t realize is that I’m actually a really smart girl.  (& I don’t mean that rudely at all.)

I’m not one to just take medicine.  I think long & hard about what I put into my body & I would never, ever cause harm to myself… especially since I have a little boy that I adore.  I checked with all of the proper medical personnel to see whether or not I could have alcohol & it is absolutely fine.  Being that an OB, psychiatrist, therapist, & a pharmacist all told me that having alcohol hours after I had taken my pill was just fine & completely harmless, I trust in that.

But this email isn’t about alcohol.

It’s about the relationship that you & I lack.

Now that I’m a mom I truly realize like never before how important family is.  It’s the most precious thing to me in my life.  The thing that really boggles my mind is how you can pretend that I don’t exist, but more importantly, that my son doesn’t exist.

Not going to lie, it hurts.  A lot.

I realize that my comment was not the most appropriate comment I could have said that Friday night, but I was just so frustrated.  The next Saturday morning while you were at my house & I was driving home, I called you.  You didn’t answer & I left a voicemail apologizing about making that comment.

That was over 5 weeks ago.

Every single day I am bothered by the fact that I don’t think you care.  About me, about my son, about my life in general.

No offense whatsoever, but it bothers me mostly because I have a son.  Your first grandson.  Growing up I am/was used to you not talking to me, mom, or my brother.  It was, sadly, quite the norm for our household.

But you have a grandson.  Don’t you want to know him?  Spend time with him?  See him grow up?

There’s already things that you have missed out on:  He smiles so much now.  He is starting to laugh.  He coos & “talks” back.  He knows he has hands & stares at them endlessly.  He is so alert.  He can hold toys.  He is just a growing boy & so absolutely adorable.  He’s about 14lbs & is 26 inches long.

Most of all though, I’m sad for you.  You are missing out on seeing a fantastic little boy grow up.

Not that I’m keeping tabs, but the last time you came to my house was when he was 3 weeks old.  He’s almost 13 weeks now.  I know that you hate driving here, but do you know how many people would love to be only 1 hour away from their son/daughter & grandson/granddaughter?

I guess this email is long enough now…  Again, just to reiterate, I’m not attacking you & the past.  This email is about the future & the kind of relationship that we can have & you can have with my son.

I can’t keep thinking about this because it really hurts.  This is my second & final attempt to fix this.  The ball is in your court.  If you choose to have a relationship with us, I welcome it with open arms.  If I don’t hear back from you, I will take that as you don’t care & we won’t have a relationship.  I can’t keep thinking about this & letting it get to me as much as it does.  I’m sure that you understand.

Love,
Jane”

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I’m so happy for all these expecting friends, but I can’t help but feel just a little sad for myself.  Why?

Because I feel like I missed out on that initial bond & feeling the excitement of meeting my son for the first time.

Don’t get me wrong – I was way ready to have Monkey & meet him & I thought that I had an accurate idea of what to expect of being a mom.  But when my water broke, I cried because I was scared.  Driving to the hospital I tried to keep myself calm & fight back my scared tears that seemed to really want to roll down my face.

My fear of what was about to happen & the big change in my life took precedence over my excitement.  And while I’m sure that’s quite normal, I feel really sad about it.

Sad that I didn’t treasure those initial moments with Monkey because I can never go back and retrieve them.  I wish that I was one of those new moms who were drunk on those first moments with my son.  Like experiencing such a high & a rush of a new love that I’ve never known.

If you remember, I was completely out of it just two hours after Monkey’s arrival into this world.  He spent his first night of life in the nursery & I spent my first hours of being a mom passed out in my hospital bed.  Not exactly the way to do it.  When I woke up that next morning I couldn’t wait for my son to be delivered to me, but I felt overwhelmed.

Overwhelmed at breastfeeding, overwhelmed at the nurses coming in, overwhelmed at my phone ringing, overwhelmed at visitors, overwhelmed that I was responsible for this human being, overwhelmed at changing his diaper, overwhelmed at listening to him crying, and the list goes on.

Obviously those overwhelming moments rose above having any feelings about being a mom.  I waited 9 months to meet my little guy, but I wasn’t exactly enjoying it.  It was all too scary for me.

Obviously I’m there now and I know that I should just be thankful that I’m finally experiencing what I should have felt in the beginning, but I do find my mind drifting to those first few days of Monkey’s life.  And it makes it hard when I’m around expectant moms & they ask me how amazing those first moments with Monkey were.

I kind of lie about it because I don’t want to scare an expectant mom.  I don’t want to take any of the excitement & anticipation away from them.

One of my friends is actually in labor at the hospital right now.  I’m so excited & thrilled for them beyond words, but I just can’t help but wonder why I wasn’t like this when my own son was born.  How I wish that I could go back in time & change my emotions, but I am really hopeful for the future because I think it’ll be so different the next time around.

And really, my little Monkey gets all the love he needs from me right now.  He’s my best friend & has made my life so complete in a way that I never knew could be.  Most importantly, he doesn’t remember his first few hours of life… all he knows is his life now & my abundant love for him that grows each day.  And that’s all that he needs.

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My friend came over and we looked in my closet, trying to find something for me to wear.  I have a lot of clothes… I mean, a lot.  However I do not own any “fat” clothes.

And since I just had a baby, this really sucks.  Big time.

All of my pants range from a size 2 to a size 6.  All of my shirts are x-small or small.  This is the extent of my closet.

Do you have any idea how frustrating it was to look through tons and tons of cute clothes, while knowing damn well that nothing will fit?  Plus, we were going out that night and what was I going to wear?  I surely didn’t want to sport any maternity wear that night.

I had so many shirts that still had the price tags on them.  I bought them right before finding out I was pregnant, so I never had the chance to wear them.  My friend ripped the tag right off of one and wore it.  Oh, it was so cute!

I tried on shirts and they were too snug for my liking.  I knew that I wouldn’t feel comfortable in them, but the real kicker was my favorite pair of jeans.

I held up said jeans and my friend said, “Those were the jeans that you loved?  They look so small.”  I said, “Just for fun I’m going to try them on.”  (And by “fun”, I really meant “torture”.)

Without one word of a lie, the right pant leg fit only to my right knee.  Oh and I guess I’ll be honest and tell you that they were very tight fitting from my right knee down to my ankle.  Why was it that I was pregnant all over my body instead of just in my stomach?

In fear of ripping my favorite jeans, I quickly took those pants off and asked my friend if she wanted to try them on too.  She was a lot smarter than me and quickly said that she didn’t.  Smart, smart girl.

I found another pair of jeans, skinny ones that looked even smaller.  Seriously they looked like they belonged to an 8th grader.  I did not dare put those bad boys on.

So all of that has been excellent motivation for me to exercise.  I have dealt with the postpartum depression.  I understand Monkey’s schedule right now.  I have mastered getting the dishes & laundry done daily.  I have also conquered my nightly glass of wine that I look forward to daily.

Now I am ready to tackle losing all of this damn baby weight.  It grosses me out to way this much, but to feel so flabby.  Yesterday I went to buy a pair of running shoes & everyone (I mean, everyone) at the store was in shape.  Like really toned, skinny, and just perfect.  Ahhh, that used to be me.  (Insert sad face here.)

Instead of getting all sorry for myself though, it provides great motivation for me.  So today is just another day in which I will exercise.  I am determined to lose this baby weight and be in shape… and hopefully (keeping my fingers crossed) fitting back into my beloved True Religion jeans.

PS – Is anyone interested in an online exercise group on the next post where we can just be held accountable for exercising each day.  It helps me to be accountable & perhaps we can learn a thing or two from one another.  It’ll be fun & I hope that it will motivate you to do a little exercise each day too!

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I walked into my postpartum depression therapy appointment ready to tell my therapist that I no longer needed her assistance, but left my appointment signed up for a women’s group for eight weeks.  Go figure.

I had a great appointment today.  The postpartum depression isn’t my reality anymore, which is oh so nice.  Now we deal with family drama in therapy, which can be as equally annoying as it is helpful.  I’m learning a lot & strangely enough, I’m the “healthy” one in my family.

My therapist told me that I look just wonderful.  I’m all smiles & love talking about my son.  I love being a mom & I feel super confident being a mom.  I love sharing that my son smiles & cooes & follows me with his eyes.  I love my life right now & I am striving to have a clean house, dinner made, & keep up with my son.

An ambitious goal, but it’s what I want.  Who would have ever thought I would say that?!  Not me, but I want to take care of my son & my husband.

Oh, and I told my therapist that I want three more kids.  Yes, that’s right… three more kids.  She almost choked on her water when I said that.  Me… the same girl who was crying a couple of months ago telling her that I didn’t even want one child, let alone any more.  Me… the same girl who said that I wasn’t cut out to be a mom.  Me… the same girl who had tears streaming down her face because it all seemed so overwhelming.

Yes, I want four kids total… but don’t worry, I’m not going to go getting pregnant right now or anything.

Funny how time changes everything, isn’t it?

So, back to therapy…

We talked about my dad (are you surprised?).  My therapist brought up so many good points and mainly told me that I was the “healthy” one by getting help & facing that my family dynamics aren’t exactly how they should have been.

For example:

1.  My mom canceling Christmas.

Yes, you read that right.  My mom canceled Christmas a few years ago.  Long story short:  My parents surprised my brother at his apartment a few months prior to Christmas.  My parents were giving my brother money to help him out.  My brother’s apartment smelled like weed.  My dad freaked out & left.  My brother & my dad didn’t talk for a few months & then it was Christmas time.  I spent the night Christmas Eve & woke up on Christmas morning not having a clue that my brother & dad hadn’t spoke in months.

My brother came over to my parent’s house, went into my dad’s office, & then yelled, “Eff you” & stormed out of the house.  Next thing I know my mom is on the phone to all of my relatives canceling Christmas.  I go upstairs with my dog & just start crying.  Christmas is my favorite holiday & I have no idea why it was just cancelled.

My mom comes upstairs & explains to me what happened & how my dad asked my brother to come over & apologize.  My brother saw no wrong in smoking weed in his own apartment, wouldn’t apologize, so my dad told him to leave.  My mom couldn’t see celebrating Christmas without my brother, hence canceling it.  I was like poor Cindy Lou in “The Grinch Stole Christmas”.  I just wanted to celebrate this great holiday.

Now it gets better…

My mom & dad are not speaking.  My mom can’t believe that my dad actually told my brother to leave on (gasp) Christmas & my dad sees no wrong.  I’m the innocent one there who cannot believe what is unfolding before my eyes.  Then my parents, who are not speaking, & myself start taking down the Christmas tree… On Christmas day.  How depressing it was.

Then I decide to leave.  My mom decides to pack up her whole freakin’ car & come to my house.  My brother & my mom come to my house & we (try to) celebrate Christmas & open our presents.  My mom stays for two weeks until she decides to go back home.  This Christmas was a BIG fail.

2.  Dinner – No talking

I’ve always yearned for the kind of family that you see on old television shows.  You know, the ones that actually enjoy each other’s company & eat dinner together while sharing their happenings for that day.  My family was not like this.  We pretty much ate dinner in silence.  Most of the times my parents weren’t on speaking terms, so we just tried to get through dinner so it would be over quicker.

3.  Friends

I was always happy to go over to my friend’s houses instead of them coming to mine.  Reason?  One time one of my girl friends told me “Jane, I don’t want to go to your house.  It’s like a war zone & there is so much tension.  Come to mine instead.”  Point taken & how true it was.

4.  Trying to step in

I’m not sure how old I was, but I know that it had to have been younger than 11 yrs old because that’s what we moved.  My parents would argue & I would be sent to my room.  I would listen from my room & feel so angry.  Then I would march out into the living room & stand up to my dad for my mom.  I couldn’t understand why she didn’t seem to stand up for herself.  My dad would tell me to stop & go back to my room.  My mom would tell me to stop & go back to my room.  Then I would get more angry & I would go back to my room promising myself that I would never be like them.

5.  Eating Disorder

I had an eating disorder.  It stemmed from my dad, which is no surprise really.  I remember coming home from school & wanting a snack.  What kid isn’t hungry after school, right?  One memory that sticks out in my mind is me eating some goldfish crackers.  My dad puffed up his cheeks (like to make a fat face) & said, “Once on the lips, forever on the hips”.  No wonder I developed an eating disorder, right?!

6.  Family dream

I had a dream the other night about my whole family.  It was so awesome that I cried when I told Tarzan about it.  When I was younger my whole family (it’s big) would go to my grandparent’s house every Sunday & eat pasta.  We would always go over there on the holidays & even the day before to cook the food & watch football.  It was if my family truly enjoyed being with one another & I loved that.  It was so nice.

Now that my grandfather is no longer alive & that my grandmother is (sadly) losing her mind, our family does not seem to enjoy one another anymore.  In fact, the holidays are not like they used to be.  Most of my family is out of town now & they have their own families to celebrate the holidays with.  It’s so different now.

So in my dream Tarzan & I were married & we had Monkey.  It was all in the present time in my dream.  We had just put Monkey to sleep & were going to go in the living room to make out.  I know, funny right?  Well, when we went into the living room we saw my parents outside in the backyard.  I was annoyed because I wanted to make out with my husband, but we let them in anyways.

Then T & I went to wake up Monkey.  It was September.  When we came out of the bedroom with Monkey with us, the house was full of all of my cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents… All of the dead relatives were alive.  In my dream I bawled my eyes out after we left the bedroom.  I was SO happy, like full of happiness.

Then we all started to decorate for Christmas, even though it was September.  We cherished being with one another & I felt so happy.  It was so great to see my grandfather, aunt, uncle, and cousin that have passed.  It was even more amazing for them to meet Monkey and see my as a mom.  It was precious & how I wished that it was real.

We all celebrated Christmas & being with one another… and then I woke up.  But I woke up with peace & feeling so good.  I told Tarzan & cried before I could get everything out.  I remember telling him that they were happy tears, not sad.  It was so good to see everyone.

That is the one and only time I’ve ever dreamt about dead family members.  It’s also the only time that I’ve dreamt about the “good ole days” with family.  And it means so much.

I want family & I yearn for it.  I don’t necessarily get everything that I need from my parents, but the good thing is that now I’m a parent & I can create my own family memories for Monkey.  I will never cancel Christmas.  Tarzan and I will always strive to be “real” with Monkey, while trying really hard to never fight in front of him.  We will have family days where we play board games without the Internet & without the phone.  We will eat dinner as a family & talk about our days.  We will enjoy each other’s company.

Most importantly, I will give my little guy all of the love that I felt like was missing out on.  I will let him be a child instead of making him grow up to be an adult quickly.  And I promise that I will always cherish every single moment with him & tell him how much he means to me, how much better he has made my life, & how I could not imagine life without him.  Ever.

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I’ve been “real” with two neighbors.  Ah yes, being “real” is getting easier and easier, but I have to wonder…  When does being “real” turn into having word vomit?

Hmm…

It’s like when you run into a co-worker while getting coffee in the break room and said co-worker asks how you are doing.  In my situation, I’m afraid that being “real” will translate into a lot more than the usual “great, how are you doing?” statement that one is supposed to make.

Now, I’ve never actually had this word vomit problem before, but I wasn’t always being honest with myself and my feelings, I suppose, especially when it came to being pregnant and having a child.  I know I’m supposed to be testing people/friends out prior to giving them all of the details, but I fear that I’ll divulge too much information initially, which will result in said friend wanting to back-off from my issues, right?

Being real isn’t really that difficult; I realize that I’m putting way too much thought into all of this.  Perhaps it’s the chardonnay that is coating my throat right now.  Absolutely lovely, by the way.

About the progress that I’ve made… shall we talk about that now?  I’m pretty damn proud of myself (and boy does that feel great!).

So I have that one friend in the next neighborhood over who has a 11-month old.  We went for a three mile walk the other day and plan on doing it every morning.  We’ve taken a slight hiatus due to her being out of town this past week.

Next, there’s my neighbor with a 3-week old.  She’s the one that asked how I did it because I seem to have it together (right).  She came over today & we put our boys on the couch to take a picture.  Oh. My. Gosh.  Little Monkey is not so little compared to her son.  While holding him it was hard to imagine Monkey being that little.  Isn’t that funny?

Just for the record, I do not miss that 3-week old stage AT ALL.  Just seeing the frustration in her eyes about lack of sleep, breastfeeding issues, and dealing with her baby crying was enough to make me appreciate the 2-month old stage.  So much better!

Finally, there’s another neighbor who has a 6-month old son.  We are getting together with some other neighborhood ladies for a play date on Wednesday.

So see, it’s really coming all together.  I’m pretty excited and thrilled with the way that everything is working out.  I’m finally loving being a mom, I’m being “real” with people & making friends with other mommies, & most of all, I’m falling more in love with my son every time that I’m with him.  He really is a perfect little angel!

I guess I’m not going to worry about my being real turning into word vomit.  People will have to just accept me for who I am & hopefully some great new friends will result from being real!

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Happy two month old birthday little guy!  You have grown and changed in the past two months of life already & I’m in constant amazement of you.  You make me smile & the love I have for you keeps growing daily.

You’ve smiled at me numerous times & I wouldn’t change that for anything in the world.  I feel like I’m getting a bit rewarded for feeding you and changing your diapers and I just love it!

Yesterday was a big day for you, well actually for your doggie.  It was the first time that he laid right by you on your playmat and your dad and I were so happy.  Hopefully this means that he is falling in love with you instead of just tolerating you like he has been for the past two months.  This is a BIG step!

Today you grabbed your little rattling phone and held it in your hand!  What big steps for you – You are really growing!

Your neck (torticollis) seems to really be improving too.  Most of the time you don’t mind when I do your neck exercises, but they have been a few times that you cry because you don’t like it.  I’m sorry that I have to keep doing the exercises.  Just remember that I’m doing it for you… No one wants a crooked neck!

Your favorite book for me to read to you has been the nursery rhymes book.  It really holds your attention and makes you smile really big!  One of my favorite songs to sing to you (don’t laugh) is the Golden Girls theme song.  It’s one of my favorite shows to put on and I like singing it to you.  I bet you’ll laugh at me when you get older, but that’s okay.

You’ve also established a bedtime, which is fabulous!  Your sleeping is getting better & better, even though you aren’t sleeping through the night just yet.  You’ve been going to bed between 7-8pm, waking up between 1-2am, and then between 6-7am.  You are giving me and your dad some sleep & we appreciate that a lot!!

I feel like my postpartum depression has gone away, but I’m still staying on the medicine just to make sure.  I’m scheduled to get off of it on January 15, 2010.  Seems like a long time away, but as long as I continue to feel great about you and being a mom, I’m fine with staying on it.

I’ll end this note to you now, but just know that my world is a much better place since you are in it.  You bring me so much joy & I wouldn’t trade a single second of having you in my life.  Thanks for being such a sweet baby & I will continue to do my best as your mommy.

I love you little buddy!

PS – So many people have been telling me that you look like me & that makes me really happy!!  I can’t wait to see what characteristics you have that are mine & that are your dads.  You are going to be such a lil heartbreaker!!

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