Some People....

***WARNING - the below is a collection of incoherent, nonsensical ramblings...a stream of consciousness, if you will...spawned by the fact that I do not want my son to be lonely.  Nor do I wish to be lonely.  If you have trouble focusing, it may be best to skip this post.***

I am totally and completely grateful that I am able to be a SAHM.  I am unbelievably fortunate to have such a supportive husband who encourages me every day in this role.  There are ups and downs to not working outside the home, they have been talked to death, usually in a one-sided fashion.  (Yes, it's completely terrific that I don't have to get out of my pajamas and I get to play with my son all day.  It is, however, not easy.  Just like, it's terrific that working parents have adult conversations, a little more financial stability and don't dread rainy days because it means they are stuck inside, but that doesn't mean it's easy for them either.  But I digress.)
Having been a work-outside-the-home mom and a stay-at-home-mom, I feel like I have a realistic, rational view of my situation.  Max was in daycare for 2 years before I stayed home with him.  I worked there for the first year and half, so I didn't have to deal with the separation component of working until much later, when we were both more ready.  That part was great, but I feel I did it backwards.  Of course, it's non-traditional, but that's not what bothers me.  When he was an infant, he received great care, but he didn't care what he did. He just needed to be fed, changed, warm and he was happy.  As he got older his needs changed, obviously.  When we decided I would stay home with him, he was 3 months into being 2 years old.  We had a lot going on, like moving into our new house, so it was exciting for him.  We were also potty training, which was SO much better, I can only imagine, since I was home with him.  But once we got settled and the new-ness wore off, he began to ask if he was going to school and about his friends that he played with.  I knew Max wouldn't be worse off with me in "academic" areas, but I was concerned about his social skills.  He has always been so pleasant and sociable, friendly and caring, patient and kind....I didn't want him to lose those qualities just because he doesn't have to wait in line anymore, or that he is the only one asking my attention.  Plus, I just felt bad for him.  I mean, we have a blast together.  I pretty sure it's mutual.  We laugh, we dance, we sing, we play football.  It's helpful to know about high quality day care, so I don't forget that it is important to be outside an hour every day, even if I don't feel like it.  It provides a certain loose structure to our days that I'm sure is familiar to him.  But he has no buddies.
I have very few friends with children, and of those that do, most don't live close by.  And the ones that do live close may not have children the right age.  Or they work out of the home.  Or they're allergic/scared of our dog.  So you would think it would be awesome that my cousin has a little boy born 1 year and 1 day after Max.  Last year, it was irrelevant because though Max was playing with toys and running around, the little one (LO) was still too little.  However, as they get older, the gap narrows and an almost 2 year old and an almost 3 year old can play really nicely.  But I wouldn't know from experience because I never see them.
I tried really hard to put myself out there to my cousin and his wife.  I was nothing but supportive of them throughout their pregnancy, giving them anything we had they might possibly need in that first year.  Our kids were a year apart, almost to the day; how could I not want to establish a relationship right off the bat.  My cousin (the dad) and I are only 2 months apart and we were very close growing up.  We loved having each other at holidays and at school.  Since my sisters are nowhere close to having children of their own, I wanted Max to have a someone to fill that role.  But apparently LO's momma doesn't feel it's necessary.  She knows I don't work.  I even offered to watch LO whenever his grandma needed a break or just to have a playdate with Max once in a while.  I got one morning for 2 hours at their house when my cousin was off from work.  It's hard to keep offering/asking without feeling lonely and desperate.
I just realized this doesn't make much sense without going into gory details I'd rather not put out into the interwebs for anyone to stumble across.  Let's suffice it to say my very close family can't quite close the gap between us and my cousin and his immediate family.  And I think it's sad.  And offensive when she blatantly puts out on a public forum like Facebook that she's having a playdate with her son and my son hasn't been included.  I don't really care to see her ever.  But I love LO and I know Max would love to have some peer time.  I would love for him to have it.
It's interesting that this is a problem I am having, because I feel like it's partially due to my community and my generation.  Back in the day, I remember all my friends' parents were approximately the same age.  But now, people have kids at 16, 26, 36, 46 and all ages in between.  So my friends, who are my age or close, either have older children that don't want anything to do with my 2 year old or aren't even in relationships, let alone having children.  It would be really nice to have other SAHM to bond with, hang out with, while our kids take turns destroying each others' houses.  But I do feel badly for Max.  I don't think he's on the road to being anti-social yet, and he will be going to school, as scary as that is for me, so it's a temporary situation.  But seriously, who doesn't like hanging out with people your own age?

Time for Me?

So, as has been the case for the last 20 years, maybe longer, I just can't remember specifics, I am taking issue with how I look.  I am frustrated by my lack of self control with there is ice cream or blueberry anything in the house.  I am annoyed that despite the fact that I am a smart person, I can't learn from my mistakes.  Or basic science.  And I'm jealous of all the fools out there who don't have to worry about this.
I am totally on board with the whole "I'm a mom, I grew a human inside me for 9 months, I breast fed for 9 more months, my body will never recover completely from that."  I would totally ride that out if I was happy with myself prior to motherhood.  However, I feel it's not fair to say that because it's like using a crutch when I have two working legs.  And it's not fair to the poor women who actually do have a fracture or two.
I read a blog a few weeks back that someone shared on Facebook, Ten Rules for Fat Girls.  It was written by 300 lb woman who was hating the haters, so to speak.  She was preaching about how society expects women to be small, delicate flowers and that's not fair and how it's reinforced every time a fat girl goes shopping and can't find anything that makes her feel as beautiful as she thinks the skinny girls look.  People were commenting all over it about how wonderful it is to have such a beautiful self image and if only everyone could believe in themselves and love themselves like this; inspirational! Her first rule was "You are not obligated to be thin, healthy or pretty."  I strongly disagree.  I am the first to say I have and always have had an unhealthy body image.  I was never thin, but I always saw myself as hugely obese.  Looking back at pictures from high school and college, I WISH I was that hugely obese now, meaning, I wasn't.  I support self-confidence 1000% and I hope Max and any other future children are completely happy with themselves as long as they are doing their best.  But I do feel you do have an obligation to be healthy.  That may not mean thin OR pretty, but healthy is different.  I feel an obligation to Max to be healthy.  I may eat a lot, but I eat good nutritious stuff!  And he is my biggest motivator to even try to get in shape and drop the pounds.  I can't bear the fact that my selfish habits could cause him to lose his mother at a young age or that he will pick up bad habits and carry it on.  I think we are obligated to be the best person we can for our children, and that includes being healthy.  I was very tempted to comment on the blog and say so, but I feel it may have fallen on deaf ears.
So, I started Weight Watchers almost 2 years ago.  It was touch and go for a while, as I figured out the system and a routine.  I really do thrive on routines.  I had finally lost 30+ pounds and was excited because that was more than Max weighed (weighs, actually.  Don't know where he got his good genes from.) and that was a tangible amount for me.  Then school was over, I was not working and was home.  Despite the fact that I was home with a 2 year old, we bought a house, I cleaned and painted it in preparation to move, I managed to find a way to be sedentary most of the time.  Before I knew it, it was fall and I gained it all back.  How is that possible or fair that it's so fucking hard to take it off, and there's not even a reward of making it hard to put back on?
You would think, "Oh, SAHM, yes you have kids, but you must have time to exercise.  People who have jobs and kids still have time to work."  This may be true.  Actually, I am finding out it is true.  I have to go back to waking at 7 or earlier to do an at home work out and shower before Max needs me to attend to his needs.  Which is not the worst thing; I woke at 5:30 or 6:00 to go to work for years, so I know I can do it.  I just have to adjust my life again.  I had come to enjoy the fact that I didn't need to do that.  I could stay in PJs all morning if I wanted to, I could take my time snuggling with Max in bed, I could wait until Max's naptime to shower.  Typing this out makes me feel like a lazy person, but I know I always had good conversation and constructive playtime with Max, which is the purpose of me staying home.  I know there's a whole camp of people who don't think that is a valuable use of time when others could be doing that for me and I could have a job.  I won't engage in that debate.  I'm just saying I definitely enjoyed the flexibility that came with staying at home.
However, I have no flexibility in my body.  I want to have more children, but as I approach my mid thirties, it becomes more high risk.  When I am clinically obese, it's even riskier.  Plus, I really really really hated that I didn't get the typical pregnant belly, because my belly was already so round.  I tried to look the part, but I just looked fat.  So I am trying to up my game.  I am doing 3 miles every morning.  For 2 mornings, so far, but that's 2 consecutive days.  I am hoping to see change by the end of this week.  I know that's not possible, but it would be so much more motivating if I could go down a size by Saturday.  But I won't.  So my goals are:

1. Continue my daily workout.  Daily.  Every morning.  Even when it hurts.
2. Stop seeing my days as grazing times and naptime as gorge fest.  
3. Read this post as often as necessary to attain #1 and #2.

I want to set an example of healthy living for Max.  I want to be attractive to my husband.  And in general.  I want people to say, "Wow!  You look great!" when they see me after a long period of time.  I want to be comfortable in my own skin.  I want to come to terms with the fact I will never ever be the itty bitty chickie I want to be so badly.  But I can be a healthy, happy mom for Max and be around to dance at his wedding, and hold my own grandchildren.

PS I am totally plugging The Laurie Berkner Band's concert in Glenside, PA.  Quality music, wholesome entertainment, danceable tunes....what more could you ask for in a family night out??

I'm Back...

Reading my last entry, I realized it's entirely possible that I actually was pregnant and had possible child since then.  Fact is:  I wasn't with child other than the little boy that was put in my arms March 10, 2010.  However, much as happened since then.
In short, I got a job, made friends with my colleagues, saw my husband's inspiring return to Musical Theatre, took Max to his first Sesame Street show, saw him turn 2, began house-hunting, threw a baby shower, lost my job, got it back (those 2 were all in the same day), saw 3 friends have babies, directed a one-act play, finished school (my job), bought a house, became a SAHM, got elected president of Gaslight Theatre Company, took Max to a water park for the first time, moved, went to family reunion (where Max jumped off the diving board into the deep end!), took Max to the beach for the first time, saw Evita in NYC (with Ricky Martin), decided to stay a SAHM, went broke, embraced a cleaning schedule and made 3 types of jam.  I've been busy.
I've had a really hard time adjusting to being a SAHM, and this blog would have been really useful in venting some of my crazy feelings during that time.  Again, in summary, I was feeling (in no particular order) guilty, giddy, excited, afraid, nervous, guilty again, so happy, so afraid and so so happy.  I've worked through most of these feelings, leaving only so happy and a little nervous, both of which are manageable.  I've embraced that my new job is keeping our home happy and clean, warm and inviting, full of love and memories.  I've accepted that I don't get vacation days, but I am appreciative of my family who affords me a night off once in a while.  I've learned that there are so many countless wonderful things that happen between me and Max and that recalling them to others is not nearly as effective and experiencing them first hand.  I've become proud of my teaching skills and how I hone them for my tiny class of one person; seeing him learn and knowing I taught him has become so much more concrete.  I've become resourceful, knowing that someone who works outside the home might see my situation as completely open and flexible, and that knowing my son, it's not as flexible as you might think.  I've come to appreciate a schedule, even imposing one on my own daytime life.  I applaud working parents, because even if you really love your job, it is still a sacrifice to walk out that door and leave your child behind every day.  I applaud SAHP, because having done it for several months now, it is every bit exhausting as it is fun.  There are no mandatory breaks every 4 hours of work, no sick days, no Christmas bonuses, and when Dave works all day and all night, well that's just a whole lot of Max.
And I wouldn't trade those minutes for anything now that I have them.