Contemplation Gag Thursday

Contemplation Gag Thursday doesn't quite have the same ring to it, does it?  But alas, I am in front of a computer again and Shift F7 is an old friend from college.  So here goes...

1 - A few weeks or months back I was complaining, whining, bitching about how I wasn't losing weight while breastfeeding.  Then I had a weekend of explosive diarrhea and vomiting and lost five pounds.  I've done my best to keep the weight off and I'm happy to report that I am now down TEN pounds.  Woot woot!!!  My goal was to lose 23 pounds total, so now the last 13 seems so much more attainable.  I'm stoked AND I'm starting to notice it too.  My face looks thinner and my clothes are looser.  It's fantastico.  My sincerest apologies Mother Nature and boobs and mammaries.  I shouldn't have doubted you.  Please keep proving what a (skinny) asshole I am.  Mmmkthanks.  (Also, does anyone else wait until AFTER you pee and take your clothes off in the morning to weigh yourself?  I swear my full bladder weighs at least 4 pounds.)

B - Sometimes if I'm short on time or if my back hurts too bad to lean over the tub, I have Logan shower with me.  It's pretty difficult because he gets all slippery and I have to put a kung fu death grip on his hamhock.  By hamhock I mean his really meaty thigh.  I'm telling you this because I'm not exactly sure what a hamhock is so I thought I'd better clarify in case it means something totally different.  Anyhoo, he is like a little greased pig in the shower so I have to hold on for dear life which means I can't exactly clean myself in the most efficient manner, especially in the parts that really need some cleaning.  So I've started laying him on his towel and letting him play while I shower up and then I get out and grab him and shower him too.  This morning I went about this business and by the time I had taken 5 minutes to clean all the essentials, I stepped out of the shower to find him in a puddle of his own urine and with two little poopies stuck to his hamhocks. 

* - I've discovered that I can comment on your blogs if I use my cell phone.  This means all comments will be full of errors and autocorrect madness.  Who am I kidding?  They probably would be if I did them on the computer too.  Learn to love it folks.  (P.S.  I love saying folks.  I'm going to bring it back.)

IV - The Hubs and I have always butted heads when it comes to money.  I am, prepare for it, an accountant by trade.  I know that accountants usually don't say fuck and talk about their explosive diarrhea but I am the exception.  I have neon sparkly pocket protectors.  But anyway, to say I'm anal about money is an understatement.  The Hubs is an entrepreneur by trade, i.e. big picture guy.  He would rather slit his wrists than deal in the details of money.  Awhile back it was affecting our marriage so much so that I finally had to throw my hands up in the air and ask myself if I'd rather have a good credit score or a good marriage.  So I did the hardest thing possible and relinquished control of the money over to him.  As feared, it was detrimental to my credit and my water got shut off more than once due to non-payment, but it seems as though we have worked through our money issues.  We finally sat down the other night and put together a budget.  It seems as though most normal people do this, AND apparently it is imperative if you are a single income family like we are now.  We figured out the reason we are always broke is because we SPEND all our money.  Gasp, sigh, OMG!  We actually had to have a spreadsheet drawn up to figure this out.  Ok truth be told, I pretty much knew the problem, but I had to wait for the Hubs to have it be his idea.  It's just how he works folks.  So, now we are on a budget.  We have money.  Our bills WILL be paid on time.  And it was nice to have a conversation about money that didn't end in us screaming at each other.  Damn this therapy shit might actually be working. 

Confessions

Confession #1 - I am a horrible blog friend.  I admit it.  I apologize for it.  I swear I do read everything you dudes write but I cannot for the life of me get my commenting shit to work.  And I'm too lazy/tired to figure out the problem.  Feel free to not comment on my blog if you are offended at my lack of commenting.  (This is a lie.  Please keep commenting.  I swear I'll fix it soon and I need you to validate me.  (Just kidding.  Sort of.))  It's not that I'm that lazy really, it's just that I'm a working mom now too AND I bring my baby to work with me so I seriously am sitting here with him on my lap while typing this and simultaneously catching his toys as they fall off my desk.  God forbid he drops them on the floor and I have to sanitize them.  Not to mention every time someone walks past my office I have to click on something else so it looks like I'm doing some actual work. 

Confession #2 - I never sanitize anything.

Confession #3 - Sometimes I hold my baby's butt up to my nose and sniff it to check for smelly diapers.  I think this might be somewhat normal though right?  The sniff test?  I don't ever sniff anybody else's butt though. 

Confession #4 - I'm totally snoopy.  I've been fully busted going through my husband's phone.  I discovered our top secret honeymoon plans by snooping through the computer.  I dig through drawers and receipts all the time.  I am a rubber neck at car accidents and I'm always down for a good gossip sesh.  I'm working on it, but me = nosey.

Confession #5 - When I'm alone, I sometimes chew as noisily as I want to.  Like mouth wide open, nom nom nom, lips smacking and everything.  One day I did that in front of the Hubs and told him I do that when I'm alone sometimes and he thought it was just about the most repulsive thing he'd ever seen.  To be fair though, he has some weird issues with chewing with your mouth open.  I decided maybe that's one I should keep to myself for a few more years.

Confession #6 - I just did spell check and found that I had spelled "confession" incorrectly 3 times in this post.  That's not even the biggest word here. 

What Happens in Vegas...

This weekend, the Hubs and I got away to Las Vegas for his birthday.  We figured out on the way that the last time just the two of us went on a trip together was our honeymoon, and that was 10 years ago.  Fail.  Then we figured out there actually was one other weekend trip we took together but that was during the dark period of our marriage and we fought the whole time and came home early.  So we decided that didn't count.  Oh sure there have been other vacations, but they usually involved children pooping their pants or vomiting in the car.  Or there was a magical trip to Maui with some other couples where the girlfriend of one of they guys was caught stealing a necklace at the souvenir shop and she left her period stained panties on the bathroom floor for 3 days.  I mean, how much could a puka shell necklace from Hilo Hattie actually cost?  Like 10 dollars?  We were all asked to leave.  It was awesome.  And come on lady, when you share a bathroom with another couple, you can't just leave your undies lying around (with or without stains.)

Anyway, we had tickets to a show on Saturday night and then decided to walk the strip afterward.  Hubs kept saying, "Is that a hooker?"  And then making sideways eyes motions at some lady that had very little clothing on.  If you've never been to Vegas, let me just tell you, most ladies have very little clothing on.  It was about 2 a.m. at this point and also there were even a few ladies with very little clothing on, pushing strollers down the strip.  Again, if you've never been to Vegas, let's just say it's not for kids after dark.  There are people all over handing out porn and cards for hooker hot lines.  There are even trucks that drive up and down the street with pictures of nearly nude ladies with phone numbers for them.

I forget what my point was because I got distracted telling you how skanky Las Vegas was.  But anyway, we had a great time and it was nice to be alone together.  I sure missed my babies though.  Maybe in another decade we'll get away again.  Also why does hotel sex seem so much more awesome than at home sex?  Discuss.

TVT

TVT is my fave-skis.  Will you guys be upset if I just start doing TVM, TVT, TVW, TVT, TVF?  Coherency isn't my friend and thought vomit is.  Regular vomit is still not.

-   So my period is a week late.  That pretty much never happens to me so I was getting a little suspicious that my uterus had a secret.  (I just heard Madonna singing, "Ooooh, ooooh my baby's got a secret...")  So what else could I do but pee on a stick?  I was sick to my stomach and shaking when I was waiting for the results.  Eventually they came up "NOT PREGNANT."  It was a strange mixture of relief and disappointment.  If I were to have another baby soon, I would be thrilled, HOWEVER, I am not quite ready yet... so that was the relief.  The sadness came from 3 years of getting these same results and I don't know if that feeling will ever go away.  Plus, just for one pregnancy, it would be nice if it were effortless.  I'm not sure if that's in the cards for me.  I have been pregnant 5 times.  That is weird.

-  Fiber One Brownies.  Get them.  They are fantastic.  I'm not sure if they really make you poop or not, but they taste wonderful and they are only 90 calories. 

-  My old job called me this week and asked me if I could come help out for a few days.  The guy who took my job just had a baby so he was off for a week and needs help getting caught up.  So I'm a working mama this week and I gotta say, it feels kinda great.  Luckily my parents can watch my kids while I'm away AND they live close by the job so I can run over at lunch and feed Logan.  It's nice to have conversations with actual people that talk back and have a lunch date with my little man.  It makes me feel slightly less crazy than normal.  It looks like they need help until the first week of November so HELLO Christmas money!  Maybe they'll invite me to the Christmas party again this year and I can drink a bottle of wine by myself and sing Christmas karaoke at the restaurant (where there isn't actually any karaoke going on.)  It will be just like last year, except this time I won't start the wrapping paper on fire on the candle.  (Ok none of that really happened last year, except the fire.)

-  Since I'm back to work for a few weeks, I will be of course, blogging more.  What good is a job if you can't write your blog at your desk once a day?

Happy Thursday everyone!!  As promised.... fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck.  Fuckers, fuckface, fuck off, fuck you, fuck nugget, FFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!

WTF

Ok, first of all, every time I try to post on somebody's blog it says I do not have access to their page and to log out and try again.  Does anyone know why the FUCK this is happening?  It's super annoying when I have a brilliant comment typed out and then it gets mother fucking deleted.  (Also the comments probably aren't that brilliant.)

Next, I decided to medicate.  It hasn't been an easy decision and I'm having issues about the anti-depressant crossing into the breast milk.  But I spoke with Dr. Awesome's nurse, Nurse Awesome and she was what else, awesome.  We discussed everything I've been doing to help with the depression and anxiety and it went a little something like this:

NA: "Are you exercising regularly?"
BU: "4-5 days a week."
NA: "Have you tried yoga?"
BU: "Every Wednesday night I take a yoga class."
NA: "Are you eating a balanced diet?"
BU: "Yes."
NA: "Have you thought about seeing a counselor?"
BU: "I'm going twice a month already."

So after that conversation, she assured me that I am doing everything possible to make it better and that my baby needs me to be the best I can be and if that means taking meds, then let's do it.  I'm on the lowest dose possible and now that I finally made the decision and started the medication, I am so relieved!  Of course, it takes 2-3 weeks for it to really kick in, but I feel good about my choice and confident that I will be returning to my normal self soon.  I've been far too quiet, reflective, overwhelmed and just plain sad lately. 

I'm making a big assumption that anyone is still reading because this post is boring and probably a little TMI, but if you're still here, nice work.  Way to hang in there.  I will return to funny things and more of the F word tomorrow. 

Boobs Fart Too! (Or Things I Learned in Colorado)

This weekend I went to Colorado to meet up with some bloggy ladies that are near and dear to my weepy little asshole heart.  Nat, Josey, Amanda, Oak, Kelly and I all met up for a wild, drunken whirlwind of a weekend.  Ok so maybe Amanda and I were the only drunk ones but that is beside the point.  Duh.  We also skyped with Elizabeth for a couple of hours on Saturday and even though she said she was drinking a glass of water, I like to think it was vodka. 

It was kind of perfect timing for everyone, myself included, because I was having quite a rough week with the Hubs.  So I decided to spend the weekend reflecting on everything I'd been through and everything I am continuing to go through and to try and gain some perspective and peace within myself.  And with a lot of reflection, I learned the following:

- These women are real.  And raw.  And amazing.  I felt so much comfort in the fact that they already knew the worst parts of me, and yet, still wanted to meet and hang out with me for a whole weekend.  There was no fake conversation, no surface judgement and no reason to pretend that reflection on IF hurt any less than it really does.  They have all been there, they have all hurt too, and they all thought it was ok if I had to tell them a story or cry a little and let them say, "I understand."  It. Was. Epic.

- Men are clueless without us.  I know this goes without saying, but I kid you not, I made a fucking agenda for each of my children and left it with the Hubs.  Bugs missed soccer practice, forgot to wear pajamas on pajama day at school, and neither children were bathed AT ALL for the entire 4 days I was gone.  Every single one of these items was on the agenda, including the bath.  Oh yes, I put **BATH** on both agendas not because I am crazy anal list maker lady (although come to think of it, I am) but because I knew that Hubs wouldn't think of bathing them unless I wrote it down.  Turns out, he didn't do it anyway.  But to his credit, the children are both alive, he made it to the airport on time, and he even did some dishes.  AND the cake topper was that he told me that he appreciated me more for what I do everyday because he got a reminder of what it is like to take care of an infant alone for an extended period of time.

- Boobs fart too.  Kelly, Nat and I had pumping parties at the table and our boob farts were off the hook.

- Nat is super slutty in an underrated way.  (By underrated, I mean PG.)

- Did I mention all these ladies are beautiful too?  Like beautiful to look at?  Totally hot MILF weekend.  Proof:



Oak, Kelly, Amanda, Josey, Me, Natalie

 Please ignore any other photos of me posted by the other gals because somehow I ended up looking like a lesbian all weekend.  (Not that there's anything wrong with that.)  Also it is highly likely that I have an alcoholic beverage in my hand in most of the pics, obviously.

So there you go, you've been recapped.  I also made some additional discoveries and decisions about depression which I will post about sometime this week.

My Parenting Skills Might Need Work

This morning I was trying to get Bugs ready for school.  He woke up before I did and just started watching TV.  He's not so much a self starter.  When I finally dragged my lazy ass out of bed, I went in and tried to get him going on clean clothes, teeth brushing etc.  He was slow-moving, to say the least.  He took off his clothes, sniffed, and said, "What is that smell?"  My highly irresponsible, tired (12 year old) mind replied with, "I think it's your butthole."

My kid is 7 ok.  Why on earth would I decide to reply with something as sophomoric as the word butthole?  I started laughing because well, I amuse myself, but inside I was thinking about how maybe I need to get a grip and/or take a parenting class. 

Last night I had teenagers babysit my children for 3 hours.  It's the first time I've left L with someone who wasn't an actual adult, and it was GREAT!  I left my house at 6:30 because I was going to therapy (obviously) and afterward I went for a drink with my husband, came home at 9:45 and the kids were ASLEEP.  It was fantastic.  I'm not sure how much to pay babysitters though.  There were 2 of them and we paid them each $20, which made it quite an expensive little therapy sesh, but I wasn't exactly sure how much 16 year old chicks that drive need to get paid to come to my house.  I'm pretty sure I got like a dollar an hour to babysit when I was a kid, but then that was like a gazillion years ago.

Finally, I think I might have to come out to the Hubs about the blog.  I have some issues lately and last night I found myself in a discussion with him about how we shouldn't be keeping any secrets from each other and my mind immediately came to this.  I'm just not sure.  He'd be mad.  Like way mad.  And he'd want me to stop writing it.  And I can't.  I need you guys.  

TVT

I've never posted from my phone until now so if it's short, stupid and full of autocorrect errors, I apologize.

- Sleep training is WORKING dudes!!! L slept from 8:30 until 5:30 the first night and 9:00 til 6:30 today. Both mornings I went ahead and fed him when he woke up and both mornings he went back to sleep until 8ish. I am one happy lady.

- l had a doctors appointment and L weighs in at a whopping 17 pounds now! He's come quite a ways from the 5 pound nugget he was at birth. Way to go double d's. Note to self: sleep training success might be due to immunizations.

- Speaking of DD's, does anyone find it odd that as a teenager I referred to my boobs as Ren and Stimpy? Why would they be male? Does that make me transgender? Why not Thelma and Louise or Wilma and Betty?

- I have accidentally become an alcoholic. I didn't mean to. I'm just home alone alot and all the sudden a lightweight. So I get drunk by myself alot. I sortof don't have a problem with it.

- This spring the heater in my car stopped working. I forgot about it until today when it was snowing. It actually works when I'm driving but blows cold air when I stop. So as long as I don't hit any red lights, my baby stays warm. Hear that Universe? If my baby gets pneumonia, that's on you for not giving me a green light.

- I'm over typing on the iPhone and Logan keeps trying to help me.

God Damn You Mr. Sandman

L and I had "the talk."  I was all, "Look dude, mommy is fucking tired.  We can't do this wake up 3 times a night shit and you come to my bed and be all suckle suckle for 5 hours a night."  He was like, "But mom, I love sleeping next to you and when your boobies are right there, why wouldn't I try to nurse all night long?"  And then I said, "Because I am fucking tired and I am not being a very good mom, or person, in general because I am a grouchy beast every day.  So you need to stay in your room and sleep all night."  Then he gave me a wink and said, "We'll see mom, we'll just see."

So now I can't lose.  I will prevail.  I am so serious about this shit that I read a book about it.  So the new and improved sleep program started tonight.  Bedtime routine starts at 8 and he is in bed by 8:30.  Tonight he cried for about 20 minutes.  I went in every 10 and checked on him and told him he was fine.  Falling asleep itself hasn't been the big challenge though, it's the staying asleep in the night.  But the premise is that if he can learn to fall asleep by himself without any vibratey thing-a-ma-jigs or holograms on the wall that when he wakes up in the night he will also fall back to sleep by himself. 

So it's on mother fuckers.  It is so on.  The first night that I get 8 hours of sleep in a row, I will do a cartwheel and post a video of it on here.  (This is a lie.  I am far too old and heavy to do a cartwheel.  I have delicate wrists.)  But perhaps I will celebrate with my own vibratey thing-a-ma-jig.  (Which I will not post a video of because that would be pornography.) 

I feel as though I sometimes cross a little too far over the line.  But that's why you love, er like, er tolerate me right?