So we've been to the doctor, everything is confirmed and we are officially pregnant, due October 10. It's strange to go through this a second time. I'm already comparing this pregnancy with my last; this poor kid doesn't have a chance.
The first time, especially with an unplanned pregnancy, if full of so many emotions. I was SO excited, surprised, overwhelmed, excited, full of anticipation, trepidation....so many things. I was excited about having a baby, but I was so excited to go though a pregnancy. I read everything I could get my hands on. I wanted to know what to expect, what was normal, what would happen next...I felt fairly prepared for the very uneventful and pleasant pregnancy I had. This time, although I'm sure it will continue to be at least a little different, I already know what to expect. I know I will take advantage of every spare minute to sleep until just after my second trimester begins. I know how to eat. I know what will happen at our doctor appointments. I know when we will find out the sex. It's all still exciting to go through, of course, but there's not the anticipation of unknown territory. I'm even having a scheduled c-section, for crying out loud. Which is great for planning, but feels a very business-like way to bring a child into the world.
Then there's the whole situation of not having many spare seconds to sleep due to having been pregnant before, leading me to already have a child. While I was a FT working person during my first pregnancy, now I am a stay at home mom who also babysits another baby. I will have the whole balancing Max with an infant part down, but boy, it was nice to be self-centered during my pregnancy. I was not a person who wanted to be waited on, and like I said, I worked FT and still cooked dinners, did laundry, cleaned the house, etc. But I also went to bed at 9 if I wanted. Right now, I am opting to type this knowing my laundry will not get done today because I will now go make dinner, play with Max, eat, give him a bath put him to bed and then go to bed. It's really hard to be annoyed that I want to give Max my time. But I am. I want him to snuggle (aka nap) on the couch with me so I can catch a few zzzzs. But he's almost 3. He doesn't stay still very long. He also watches way more tv than I want him to, but sometimes mama needs a break. Or to pee or make dinner or feed the baby.
I'm glad Max likes having the little baby here every day. I hope he is as excited about the one who doesn't go home at 4:00. His jealousy is very mild if it does rear its head. And he's actually very helpful. But this doesn't stop me from freaking out about the fact that we've now made this a permanent situation. I feel like my house will never be clean again, my laundry will never be done again, I will never not feel tired again. That's the selfish stuff. Then there's the fact that I adore Max. I mean, this kid is the bomb. He's smart as can be, charming, easy on the eyes, polite (and nothing gets me like a kid with manners), so imaginative, kind... I love spending time with him! I know I just had a rant of how I miss being able to sleep pre-Max, but even still, if anything is going to keep me awake, I'd rather it be him. And now there's going to be someone else who will cause me to miss out on Max time. I don't know this new person yet, so I don't know if I'll enjoy his company as much as Max. I mean, I'll love him, obviously, but I can't imagine anyone coming close to the coolness of the kid I already have.
Which leads me to my next irrational thought. How on earth will we be lucky enough to have 2 kickass kids? I mean, we got so lucky with Max. Great sleeper, great eater, nice kid, all the aforementioned qualities...I just am so afraid that the new baby will be colicky, bad eater, bad sleeper, so needy.....and I might lose my mind. I seriously have over 7 months to deal with this before meeting unknown child. And I'm already stressing. Which is probably in turn affecting baby's development. Which will make this a self-fulfilling prophecy. Great. Yet I am super excited to meet newest tiny human.
I am super hopeful that the sudden surge of hormones is making me into this slightly more miserable and slightly more neurotic version of me and that it will level out in a few weeks. I want to be a happy pregnant mama. And just a happy regular mama. And I absolutely do not want to drag either of my children down my spiral of insanity. And secondarily, my husband shouldn't really hang out there either.
Maybe I just need a nap. Soon..
My wonderful family
Showing posts with label new. Show all posts
Showing posts with label new. Show all posts
Monday, February 25, 2013
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
My Kid is a Jerk
Or shall I say, he CAN be a jerk. As we all can at times, of course. It just seems that Max's jerkiness is in concentrated form lately. And on a related note, I've not blogged in 2 months. How is that related, you might ask? Well, it's because my life has been crazy since November until a few weeks ago. Therefore, Max's life has been crazy. Therefore, he's a jerk. I took critical thinking in college, I think that's how it works.
So let's reflect. Several months ago, we decided I could make my return to theatre by directing the January production for Gaslight. It was a show near and dear to my heart, so leaving Max almost nightly for several weeks would be made easier. Plus, I "rationalized" it to myself by telling myself that it's important for Max to see me as a person, not exclusively his mom. A person who not only is capable of things outside our home, but pursues them. That while balance is very important, so is variety. Daddy is not the only one who has evening obligations. I am passionate about people and projects in addition to my family and home. I do believe these things are important for Max to see and for me to do so I too can see those things in myself.
However, it was hard. For so many reasons. I haven't done any theatre since I was pregnant, and I hadn't directed a show since a year prior to that. Being out of the game that long definitely brings self-doubt and anxiety about every choice. So now, I'm "abandoning" Max for a project that I'm not sure will even be good.
Dave's schedule hadn't worked out exactly as I had thought it would, meaning Max was spending a lot of nights with my parents. Trust me, I am so eternally grateful we have them and that they are so close. Max loves spending time with them and he brings them such joy. I trust them to make wise decisions with Max and that he will be well fed and taken care of. However, there are naturally discrepancies in our child-rearing styles, such as bedtime, activities, TV... Once in a while, these differences are minor and don't have much impact; they're even seen as a treat for Max by him and us. However, when Max spends so much time with them and then has to return to the rigorous structure of his actual home, there's naturally going to be dissension in the ranks. And Max didn't disappoint.
Throw Christmas in the mix, especially when Max is the only (young) grandchild on both Dave's and my sides of the family, and you have the makings for a bratty kid.
Now, it's January 23 and Max's behavior has not only not resolved itself, but seems to have gotten worse. Bedtime takes an hour at minimum, just from the time we first say good night to when he finally settles quietly. He is waking in the night and wandering into our room, just to ask us (me) to put him back in his own bed. He's back to not eating well, replacing it with goofy obnoxious table behavior. And the mouth...I always knew I would have a mouthy kid to deal with as penance for what I put my mom through. However, I didn't anticipate dealing with it at almost 3; I thought I'd have until 13 at least! He yells at me, screams "No!" when asked to do something, is so defiant, and downright bratty. Where did this boy come from?? I am concerned that this isn't just a phase, or worse, that my lack of patience for this behavior will make it irreparable.
I am so proud of the good things I've taught Max. He (typically) has good manners, saying May I and Thank You. He (typically) is so sweet and encouraging, frequently telling people he is playing with Good Job! and Nice Try! He tells us spontaneously that he loves us and willingly gives hugs and kisses. He has always been a good listener, following directions and shown appropriate responsibility for his age, if not more. This turnaround is not only infuriating for the obvious reasons, but because it's such a shift from the well-behaved and admittedly "easy" kid I've had for almost 3 years.
I am researching as much as possible to get various perspectives in dealing with a newly difficult child. I understand the developmental psychology of it all. He is torn between yearning for independence and the inability to accept it. He feels all the feelings we do, without the strength to handle them. And I'm sure it just pisses him off when he has to do anything like clean up, stop playing, wash hands, etc. But I don't know how to react appropriately without ruining his innate spirit. Plus, half the time, I feel he doesn't give a crap about his consequences, no matter how cruel I fear they may be.
I guess I'm learning that all those people who were jealous of us when Max slept through the night at 2 weeks, was always so happy and pleasant, was so well behaved in church and pretty much everywhere, always was a good eater....they have the last laugh. Because just when we thought we were ready to have another baby, Max gives us the ride of his life.
So let's reflect. Several months ago, we decided I could make my return to theatre by directing the January production for Gaslight. It was a show near and dear to my heart, so leaving Max almost nightly for several weeks would be made easier. Plus, I "rationalized" it to myself by telling myself that it's important for Max to see me as a person, not exclusively his mom. A person who not only is capable of things outside our home, but pursues them. That while balance is very important, so is variety. Daddy is not the only one who has evening obligations. I am passionate about people and projects in addition to my family and home. I do believe these things are important for Max to see and for me to do so I too can see those things in myself.
However, it was hard. For so many reasons. I haven't done any theatre since I was pregnant, and I hadn't directed a show since a year prior to that. Being out of the game that long definitely brings self-doubt and anxiety about every choice. So now, I'm "abandoning" Max for a project that I'm not sure will even be good.
Dave's schedule hadn't worked out exactly as I had thought it would, meaning Max was spending a lot of nights with my parents. Trust me, I am so eternally grateful we have them and that they are so close. Max loves spending time with them and he brings them such joy. I trust them to make wise decisions with Max and that he will be well fed and taken care of. However, there are naturally discrepancies in our child-rearing styles, such as bedtime, activities, TV... Once in a while, these differences are minor and don't have much impact; they're even seen as a treat for Max by him and us. However, when Max spends so much time with them and then has to return to the rigorous structure of his actual home, there's naturally going to be dissension in the ranks. And Max didn't disappoint.
Throw Christmas in the mix, especially when Max is the only (young) grandchild on both Dave's and my sides of the family, and you have the makings for a bratty kid.
Now, it's January 23 and Max's behavior has not only not resolved itself, but seems to have gotten worse. Bedtime takes an hour at minimum, just from the time we first say good night to when he finally settles quietly. He is waking in the night and wandering into our room, just to ask us (me) to put him back in his own bed. He's back to not eating well, replacing it with goofy obnoxious table behavior. And the mouth...I always knew I would have a mouthy kid to deal with as penance for what I put my mom through. However, I didn't anticipate dealing with it at almost 3; I thought I'd have until 13 at least! He yells at me, screams "No!" when asked to do something, is so defiant, and downright bratty. Where did this boy come from?? I am concerned that this isn't just a phase, or worse, that my lack of patience for this behavior will make it irreparable.
I am so proud of the good things I've taught Max. He (typically) has good manners, saying May I and Thank You. He (typically) is so sweet and encouraging, frequently telling people he is playing with Good Job! and Nice Try! He tells us spontaneously that he loves us and willingly gives hugs and kisses. He has always been a good listener, following directions and shown appropriate responsibility for his age, if not more. This turnaround is not only infuriating for the obvious reasons, but because it's such a shift from the well-behaved and admittedly "easy" kid I've had for almost 3 years.
I am researching as much as possible to get various perspectives in dealing with a newly difficult child. I understand the developmental psychology of it all. He is torn between yearning for independence and the inability to accept it. He feels all the feelings we do, without the strength to handle them. And I'm sure it just pisses him off when he has to do anything like clean up, stop playing, wash hands, etc. But I don't know how to react appropriately without ruining his innate spirit. Plus, half the time, I feel he doesn't give a crap about his consequences, no matter how cruel I fear they may be.
I guess I'm learning that all those people who were jealous of us when Max slept through the night at 2 weeks, was always so happy and pleasant, was so well behaved in church and pretty much everywhere, always was a good eater....they have the last laugh. Because just when we thought we were ready to have another baby, Max gives us the ride of his life.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Little Man
I don't know when this happened, but I don't have a baby anymore. I know I've been warned, and I guess on a certain level I was prepared, even excited. But now that he's gone, I'm mourning him a little. Fortunately, the little boy that has replaced him is so fun and wonderful and exciting that I am too busy to fall into a depression over my loss. But sometimes when I watch with amazement all he is capable of and realize he doesn't need me in the same ways as he used to, I feel sad. Sometimes I even get a little teary. And then I scold myself because how can I possibly be sad when I have so much joy right in front of me and if I waste my time being sad about what's over, I will miss out on truly amazing things right now.
These crazy thoughts are the things no one tells you about when you become a parent. I've been told to "treasure every moment", "it goes so fast"....as if I can possibly do anything to slow down time. But those cliches helped me prioritize my life for sure. I haven't done theatre since I was pregnant. 2 and a half years. That's a HUGE leap for someone who did some form of theatre continuously since 1991. I helped out with directing a one-act this summer and I am diving in head first to directing a musical next month. I am incredibly nervous about this commitment and the time away from Max, but I am comforted that at least I am home with him now during the day so I won't be in a scenario of never seeing him for 2 months. But still. I love putting him to bed. I love our nighttime routine. He has just started to want to help make dinner. Who knows how these things will change by the time my show closes? And that is when I will mourn the precious hours lost and celebrate the shining star his Daddy helped him become in my absence. It's an emotional roller coaster, folks. But it's even crazier than they tell you.
These crazy thoughts are the things no one tells you about when you become a parent. I've been told to "treasure every moment", "it goes so fast"....as if I can possibly do anything to slow down time. But those cliches helped me prioritize my life for sure. I haven't done theatre since I was pregnant. 2 and a half years. That's a HUGE leap for someone who did some form of theatre continuously since 1991. I helped out with directing a one-act this summer and I am diving in head first to directing a musical next month. I am incredibly nervous about this commitment and the time away from Max, but I am comforted that at least I am home with him now during the day so I won't be in a scenario of never seeing him for 2 months. But still. I love putting him to bed. I love our nighttime routine. He has just started to want to help make dinner. Who knows how these things will change by the time my show closes? And that is when I will mourn the precious hours lost and celebrate the shining star his Daddy helped him become in my absence. It's an emotional roller coaster, folks. But it's even crazier than they tell you.
Friday, September 28, 2012
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.
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.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Year Out and In
So only I would begin something at the end of the year. At a time when the calendar tells us that new beginnings are ready for us as the clock strikes 12 from December 31, 2011 to January 1, 2012, I say "Why wait?" I am motivated now and, more importantly, I have time now.
I can imagine this very well may take the path of every journal and diary I've ever begun. As meaningful and true as my intentions were, something else always takes precedence. I am hopeful that won't be the case, but I have to be realistic. My motivation is different this time.
As a child, I wrote in diaries to let out my deepest secrets that no one could ever know (like who I thought was so so so so cute or that I didn't always want to make the responsible/good choice). As a young adult, I wrote in journals to have an outlet for my thoughts that I was otherwise to busy to think. To contemplate the limitations society was placing on me with all these rules and laws. To sometimes find inspiration to write a really heartfelt (and sometimes good) poem. This time I type in a blog. I intend to use this blog to "talk" about the things I want to talk about, but I'm just not sure who will listen. My single and/or childless friends don't necessarily want to hear about the trials and tribulations of being a working mom and though I feel confident they love my son, they can't listen as much as I want to talk about him. Few people have an understanding of my position as a substitute teacher and what that means, particularly when it becomes littered with politics and additional work for which I am not compensated. Sometimes talking about my "extra-curriculars" becomes such a tiresome argument for which I just don't have the energy. And I have concerns/gripes/opinions about some friends and/or family members that I just never know if it's my place to voice out loud and even if it is, those that hear them are either defensive or over-zealous.
Don't mistake my explanation for any kind of "woe is me" stance on my life. I have a very good life. It's not perfect by anyone's standards, but I'm pretty happy. I have great family, extended and immediate; great friends who are typically outside-the-box kinds of people; I have a job, for which alone I am eternally grateful, but I also happen to like for the most part the people with whom I work and interact. Overall, not too shabby. But despite all this, sometimes a girl needs to gripe. Things that are not worth causing an all-night discussion because of my innate need to overstate things (which ironically drives me crazy in others). Things not worth using precious little time I have with my family over dinner before one of us is pulled in another direction. But things, nonetheless, for which I would be "Maternally Grateful" to get off my chest.
I can imagine this very well may take the path of every journal and diary I've ever begun. As meaningful and true as my intentions were, something else always takes precedence. I am hopeful that won't be the case, but I have to be realistic. My motivation is different this time.
As a child, I wrote in diaries to let out my deepest secrets that no one could ever know (like who I thought was so so so so cute or that I didn't always want to make the responsible/good choice). As a young adult, I wrote in journals to have an outlet for my thoughts that I was otherwise to busy to think. To contemplate the limitations society was placing on me with all these rules and laws. To sometimes find inspiration to write a really heartfelt (and sometimes good) poem. This time I type in a blog. I intend to use this blog to "talk" about the things I want to talk about, but I'm just not sure who will listen. My single and/or childless friends don't necessarily want to hear about the trials and tribulations of being a working mom and though I feel confident they love my son, they can't listen as much as I want to talk about him. Few people have an understanding of my position as a substitute teacher and what that means, particularly when it becomes littered with politics and additional work for which I am not compensated. Sometimes talking about my "extra-curriculars" becomes such a tiresome argument for which I just don't have the energy. And I have concerns/gripes/opinions about some friends and/or family members that I just never know if it's my place to voice out loud and even if it is, those that hear them are either defensive or over-zealous.
Don't mistake my explanation for any kind of "woe is me" stance on my life. I have a very good life. It's not perfect by anyone's standards, but I'm pretty happy. I have great family, extended and immediate; great friends who are typically outside-the-box kinds of people; I have a job, for which alone I am eternally grateful, but I also happen to like for the most part the people with whom I work and interact. Overall, not too shabby. But despite all this, sometimes a girl needs to gripe. Things that are not worth causing an all-night discussion because of my innate need to overstate things (which ironically drives me crazy in others). Things not worth using precious little time I have with my family over dinner before one of us is pulled in another direction. But things, nonetheless, for which I would be "Maternally Grateful" to get off my chest.
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