Where's My Time?

Frustrated. That's one word to explain how I feel, well maybe tired as well. Before you continue to read this entry I might have to warn you-your opinions of me might change. I might sound harsh, and you might think I'm an insensitive B, but no matter what the issue is I always get stuck. Always. Take today for example (here's where you'll think I'm a B), today is the day our car is destroyed. Well yesterday actually, but today I'm mad about it. Taking advantage of the beautiful weather Nugget and I went for a long stroll with Baby Guru and her daughter. It felt so good to get out again. I swear September was the last time I hit the boards. But anyway, Guru and I went for a nice long walk, we talked and talked and then we parted ways as we went home, almost 2 hours later (our walks always lasted 2 hours or longer-which used to make for the quickest afternoons). And then, just as I was walking up to my street I heard them-the sirens. Several sirens. And then came the call. My husband has gotten in an accident on his way to work. A young girl who was here to visit her friend ran through a red light. My husband was okay, a little sore and shaken up, but our car was not. My heart was in my throat as I ran, Nugget still in stroller, against the wind and over to Franklin and Broadway. Seeing the car hit home more than the sirens and the phone call. The front end was ripped off the car and hanging by a tiny piece of scrap metal along the road. Fluid was flowing from our car and onto the road faster than if you opened up a fire hydrant and the air bags were deployed. The only thing I was grateful for, besides that my husband and the teenage girl were okay, was that Nugget or I were not in the car at the time.
After all the paperwork was completed the three of us walked home, no car by our side. If you read one of my first blog entries you know that I decided to get rid of my car, that I barely used since I walked everywhere. Now here we are, no car at all-tied to the house and making a million phone calls to get our car back as fast as we can. So why, besides another new problem that I don't need right now, am I frustrated you ask? It could have something to do with the million appointments that I have today. Nugget's 1 year check-up is in an hour, followed by my doctor's appointment where I possibly find out the sex of our baby, then an appointment at the bank, and so on. Did the car situation frustrate me? No. I walk everywhere, so we layer it on and stroll over, big deal. But as soon as Nugget gets up Daddy starts complaining that his back hurts, his shoulder, his leg. I didn't expect him to be pain free and I was sympathetic to him. But he didn't have a problem staying up late last night to watch his football games and chat on the phone with his male companions about the scores and plays. Even before the accident the husband had arranged his schedule to run these errands with me. Now he was to sore and wanted to stay in bed. So I fed Nugget, I showered with Nugget, I dressed Nugget, I put Nugget down for a quick nap, I took the dog for a walk and I came back to see the husband out of bed and on the phone with Enterprise making an appointment to pick up a rental car. And there you go, the husband that's to sore to walk with me to the doctors isn't sore enough to jump in the car with the Enterprise man who just came and picked him up, drive over to get the car seat out of our ruined car, and so on. Are those things more important than going with us? Or am I being a total selfish wife? I don't know anymore. But I'm just as tired and stressed as he is, so should I be standing up more and making him take on more initiative or letting him relax and lay on the couch to prepare himself for Monday night football? My Baby Guru got me set with Nugget, so maybe I need to hire a Husband Guru to get me straight with the man.
Either way this seems to be my luck lately. The week before we left for Christmas was supposed to be my time to run errands without Nugget. I couldn't wait. Ah, an afternoon in the car, the music as loud as I want, running through the mall without a stroller to push or baby to carry, as many cold coffees and lemonades as I wanted without Nugget stretching his hand out to drink or eat what I have, and then an evening of completing my Christmas cards without Nugget pulling on my leg, pulling on the envelopes or playing tug of war with the stamps. But then what do you know-the husband gets sick. He comes down the deadly stomach virus Nugget and I were still slightly recovering from. So there I went, irrated (because he was still sick as well) baby on my side, running around town like a mad woman. I couldn't help thinking, "This isn't fair."
The next day went the same. I had to get up early to take Nugget to appointments because the Husband was still to weak and tired. (Is it wrong that deep down I felt like he was milking it a little bit? I was throwing up with Nugget hanging off me and going through my day and Nuggets sick as a dog. I didn't get to lay in bed and rest.)
Then we left for the holidays and Nugget's 1st birthday and it was the same. He was cranky, tired and still not feeling up to par and wouldn't go to anyone besides me. No one! The one time that I had extra hands and arms to give my hip and ever growing belly a rest and he wouldn't take it.
So can I get a little bit of clearance on the whole B thing. At this point the B-ness is flowing through my veins more than blood. I need a break. I need a day off. And I need someone to walk with me, or for me, to one of all of the appointments.
"You know what that's called," my mother-in-law said as she tried to comfort my tears that spilled all over her living room. "That's motherhood."
Ah, motherhood. What else can I say?

Why You Need Mom Friends

I remember when Nugget was three months old and I was planning his Baptism. I'd found the place, arranged the time, the food and the guest list, but what I was having troubling sealing was my outfit. I wasn't entirely happy with how my body looked, so I needed a little help finding that perfect outfit. You know the one I'll be looking back upon 30 some odd years from now while my children make fun of it. I'd saw a few things in Oh La La's window on my afternoon strolls, but at this point I was still paranoid to take Nugget into a store by myself. That's when my girlfriend, one of the all without children yet, said she's take me and Nugget to the mall that Saturday. I was apprehensive, but she assured she'd help me with Nugget, the outfit and we'd have a great day together. It sounded wonderful. And, as most new moms know, a day out with my friend thrilled me to no end. An old part of me would be returning, and I would feel normal once again. I couldn't wait until that Saturday came, only it never did. My girlfriend ended up going shopping with another one of her friends. I'm not sure if she really forgot about our plans, or if that was just our cover up, but I stayed home while she shopped. I never really said anything, but my feelings were hurt. A week later when Coffee Bean had her baby I went to visit and let it all out. I cried. I questioned if I was a complete set back to our friends without children now, I knew I had a baby, but could that have affected our friendship that much? Kind of.
I get the phone calls and emails, "Miss you, Want to come by and see Nugget, he must be so big now," but they never really come. I still care about them, and them me, but the crazy lifestyle that I used to live with them isn't there anymore. Do I miss it? Of course. And do I miss them? Like crazy. But things change. That's why I looked forward to our holiday dinner last Friday night.
We had a great time. And by the end of the night, well my end that was, they all swore that the next morning was a Nugget morning. His birthday was around the corner so they all wanted to see him before he turned a year.
I scrubbed my house the next morning, made an extra large pot of coffee, some warm sweet treats and looked out the window a few times wondering if they were there. Nope, just a FedEx truck. And a family packed car. After an hour I text my friends, turns out they were all hung over, their night ended at 3 while mine ended at 12, and it didn't look like they were coming over. I tried not to let it effect my day. I tried not to let Nugget see that I was upset. I tried not to cry over it. But my feelings were hurt again. I didn't tell my friends. I didn't text them back. I just went about my day and thought-this is exactly why you need mom friends. Until the friends you have have children one day things aren't going to be the same, and sometimes that's more heartbreaking than the no show's.

To The First Sickness...

To the first sickness comes dirty sheets, dirty clothes and a bathroom that looks like a Chinese Laundrymat.
Nugget will be a year next week and he's come down with his first major illness. I guess that's the upside of it, along with the fact that this happened a week before his birthday and Christmas. And to think, maybe breastfeeding did do the trick-I mean for him to be just under a year and all and to have been around tons of kids and some sick ones from time to time and never really come down with anything besides a runny nose once. But when he got it boy did he get it. Both ended that is. For the weak in the tummy, quit reading. For the mommies who've dealt, I have to say it makes you a stronger person in a way. From the day Nugget was born I feared the sickness. In the beginning, when I was exhausted, alone and unsure what to do with this new child of mine I would literally cringe when another child coughed around my son. Where they sick? Why would they bring their child around my son? And as he got a little older and I began to feel more confident as a mother I ignored the little coughs, but still pulled all the library toys in music class away from my sons mouth, made sure he was always well rested, politely pulled him away from other babies who I thought might be sick, and so on.
So, suddenly on Wednesday when I heard a loud noise come from Nuggets rear end, followed by a horrific foul smell and a mess that dripped out of his pants and on to my floor in a moments notice I went with my gut. I carried him, arms length away, dripping along my floor as I went, into the shower, clothes and all. For someone who just pooped his pants he seemed pretty happy. He splashed his hands in the water that swirled around him and laughed as I stripped of his poopy clothes. I redressed him for the day, only to do the same routine twenty minutes later. Floor dripping and all. Three poops later I had a pattern down and wasn't praying for a clean butt. Especially since he was now projectile vomiting. All over my kitchen. I literally stood there for a second, shell shocked, wondering what do I do first-clean up my crying baby or my kitchen? Then I felt a rumble of my own. But it was in my head, right. I couldn't be sick too.
The next morning my head was clean, my son was a bit happier, but I was now hanging over the toilet. I had Nuggets stomach bug and I had it bad. Nugget's diahrea had stopped and so had his puking, but mine had just began. The only thing I had to be thankful for was that my husband could have been home. There was no way I could have handled or cared for Nugget myself. Not while I was having diahrea and puking in the tub. Speaking of which does anyone know if you can hire a maids service just to sterilize your tub?
So the next day I thought we were both better, a bit lathargic, but better. We took it easy, took some naps and drank our fluids. So why was it that he woke up, after a healthy day without any poop or vomit, twice during the night, projectile vomiting all over his crib? Ah! It was a sleepless night, and what made it worse was that Nugget now had a strange heavy cough.
Dr. Cohen, our beloved Pediatrician-I swear by him-he's young, fresh and explains this to me without making me feel like an idiot, took Nugget in at 8 this morning. (See why I love him!) Not only does Nugget have a stomach virus that Cohen says is polluting his office with babies for the past two weeks, but he's got upper respiratory infection-remember the straneg cough. So like I said, when he got it-he got it good.
Nuggets on his meds now, his humidifier is plugged in and steaming the room and I'm shoving all the white grape juice I can get down his throat. This evening I got so nervous about him getting dehydrated that I took a medicine syringe and started squirting juice in his mouth. This is due to the fact that Nugget has closed his mouth and turned his head away to any form of bottled drink or scrap of food.
But what I did find was a nifty little trick that camne down from my family. It's known as the Jell-o trick. What you do is double the amount of liquid, two cups hot and two cups cold, and poor the Jell-o into cups for your baby to drink. Doubling the liquid will cause the Jell-o to remain liquified and be sweet enough for your baby to drink down, while being gentle like Jell-o on their tummy. It feels good to know that I've had my first sick child pass down trick from my family, and that I've done a better job handling my ill son that I ever imagined I'd have. It sounds strange, but I'm proud of Nugget and I'm proud of me.

One of those days

You know those days, everything starts off great and then one by one your day falls apart in front of your face. Well I'm having one of those, only mine seems to be caring over from yesterday.
50 degrees yesterday. Yes, it was cloudy, but it was 50 degrees. I grabbed Nugget as soon as he awoke from his morning nap, strapped him in his stroller and hit Park Ave. I had a list of things that I wanted to get accomplished, but stopping at the new UPS store by Blockbuster instead of the Post Office was a lazy mistake. I ended up paying almost double for a package that will arrive at the same time, simply because I was lazy. But after that all went well. I got a few of the things I needed, stopped off at Baby Guru's daycare for a cup of coffee and play time for Nugget and then went home and settled Nugget in for a long afternoon nap while I made homemade chicken soup for dinner. My husband came home a little early, something my son and I love because we get time to play together. And then it started. I walked into our bedroom to find our dog laying on our bed, something she's no longer to do, and low and behold when I made her get off there was a giant pee stain. She saturated our bed, right down to the down mattress cover we just bought a few months ago. Need I remind you that we have NO washing machine. So we scrambled to remove the cover, change the sheets and find enough covers to keep us warm since our main comforter was ruined. Then the phone rings and it's a money call. You know the money call, the one you weren't expecting but that you now owe more than you have call. And right before the holidays. I didn't talk the rest of the night, I was to frustrated.
I read a few chapters of my book and went to bed, but of course I didn't sleep. I listened to Nugget cough all night. He must be coming down with something, I thought. I got up and filled the humidifier and tossed and turned in my sheets and multiple blankets.
In the morning I got Nugget ready to go off to the printers. I'd finished my holiday letter (something I swore I would do this year, especially since so much has happened with Nugget and all and we're so far away from everyone)and since I'd gotten Nuggets holiday photos the night before I planned on printing the letter up and sending them off today. But no go. The printer was down and the rain was preventing a walk to the library. So no letter. Just then I figured I'd check my camera and send off some pictures to the fam, when....the lens shattered. Ahhhh. Have you had one of these? These never ending days. Tomorrow I have to drive out to Melville just to get the camera to the repair shop for Nikon and pray that it's fixed before I leave for Nuggets first birthday and Christmas.
But that's not the worst. Nugget is sick. Diarhea sick. Everywhere and non stopping. Through his clothes and everything. My poor baby has a stomach bug and suddenly I'm not feeling so hot as well.
Maybe I should go to bed now and wake up tomorrow when this is all done?

Something Feels Icky

To put it simple, "I'd rather have painful diarrhea than throw up," my SIL recently said. I couldn't agree more. Unlike most of America I fight the vomit. I loathe it as much as beans. So when the urge comes on I do everything I can to make it go away. I pace, chew on Saltines, sip on Ginger Ale and pop any kind of candy in my mouth, but low and behold I still get sick. And what's worse is the dry heaves. Oh I hate them with a passion.
But for five weeks now this has been my life. I wake nauseous, try to ignore the nausea, go through my whole non-puking routine only to find myself hanging over the toilet, while Nugget crawls all over me, losing it. And every rare morning that passes without an upchuck I think, "This must be it! The sickness is finally done!" But sure enough the next morning causes me to recoil, hugging the porcelain God, Nugget hanging off me, praying that This is the last morning I have to go through this again.
No, I don't have the flu. I have morning sickness. That's right, Nugget is about to be a big brother or sister, just shy of an Irish Twin. They'll be sixteen months apart, did I skip the fact that I'm four months pregnant-yeah morning sickness came late in the game for me, so stay tuned. If you think you've read anything yet, I'm sure the blogging stories are about to get more odd as they come!

Girls, Girls, Girls

Tonight's the night. December 5th. Who knows what will go on, but one things for sure, there's going to by side splitting laughter, tons of conversation, bottle of flowing wine, endless amounts of food and a great deal of catch up. Why? Because tonight is our girls holiday dinner. It seems crazy that it's been so long, and that I avoided while I was going through a rough time. Just from chatting with them on the phone all afternoon, what time will we meet, whose picking who up, what about stopping at Coffee Beans for wine first, has got me all excited. I can't wait to put on some make-up, make-up you remember that 6 letter word right, let my hair down, that's right no knot on top of my head tonight-well at least until we make it through dinner, and wear a cute outfit. I love my friends, and though I've gotten the girlfriend email about a million times, you know about the one where the mother brings her daughter out on the porch to talk about keeping her girlfriends close throughout her life and while she'll need them, this email couldn't ring more true in my life now.
But my favorite part of this evening is the "Round Table." The round table is something Coffee Bean invented two years ago, maybe three, and it was something we all mounded at. Someone starts off round table and it's basically a game of catch-up. We state what's new in our lives, what's happened and anything exciting we want to talk about. Now that round tables been around for a while we all love it. I even got a text from City the other day saying that she can't wait for Round Table to tell me all that's new in her life. And, you know what, she was an avid hater of round table. But you know what else, I've been thinking about what she could have to say all week and it's killing me.
So, I know I'll be tired tomorrow, probably dragging tired, but I also know I'll be smiling ear to ear and thinking about all my girlfriends and how far we've all come and how different each one of us have become. From a group of girls who started working together at C&R four years ago, to a group of girls who have all launched careers, families and around the world destinations. We've done pretty good and we've stuck by each others sides through all of it, even if we didn't talk every day.
This my friends is what I love about the holidays!

Elmo's Do Again

Elmo's hair was wild and funky again this morning. Check out the pict. Think I'm crazy? Maybe SS was just to tired to brush it today?

Judged A Book

I'm an avid reader. As avid as one can be with an 11 month old, which is why I am a firm believer that you should never judge a book by it's cover. I know some of the best books I've read have had the blandest and cheesiest picture covers (cheesy thinking about Good in Bed, I passed and passed on this book until someone handed it down with a must read to me-and viola I became not only a fan of the book and the character, but of the author who I check her website posts at least once a week). Any who, I swore. Swore. I would not watch the Britney:For the Record special that aired on Mtv last Sunday. First of all it aired well past my bedtime, and yes I could have DVR'd, and second of all I heard through the media mill that Britney and her father had full editing rights. As a writer who somewhat works in the business and knows all to well about editing, I knew that meant one thing-there was no way we were going to get the real story. This was just going to be another album plug. And my thoughts were justified as I read the Newsday review Monday morning. No emotions, no discussing what really happened, just a quintessential plug.
My sister-in-law, a huge Britney fan from the beginning, called me the next afternoon. Had I watched it? Nope, I said. You see I never went for Britney's I'm so sweet, hehehe, pop tunes. I was more of a slutty, raw, Christina, if I had to choose. But I changed my mind once Britney had her breakdown. Her shaved head, anger umbrella pounding car basher, non-underwear wearing, fake accent, not going to rehab made me fall in love with her. Here is the real her, I thought. And for some reason I related. You know-my Holly Hobbie thing. I totally felt like she was breaking away from her sweet image, trying to be reckless, and above all free. As sick as it may sound I almost envied her for doing something that I wished I could. When I was in high school, and then in college and in the post-college the real world sucks and even sometimes still I've had a continuing fantasy. It's the middle of night, or early afternoon, I grab the smallest essentials, and leave. I pack my car and head to an unknown destination where I'm free to start over and be myself, away from the pressure that surrounds me, the expectations, the nice respectable always do right girl would start over somewhere new. I'd work as a coffee girl, a waitress, anything that didn't require a lot of involvement and I'd just live my life. Happy. Telling anyone who had an opinion on what I was doing to just go away, instead of smiling and pretending it didn't bother me. To me, this is essentially what Britney did. This is why I love her.
So, to get back to the show, when I heard it was going to be editing I got irritated. Here we go again, I thought. Britney's back under lock and key and preforming just how people expect her to and not how she would like to. So I refused, out of anger. The one person I looked up to in a weird way was about to let me down. But yesterday afternoon, after I put Nugget down for a nap, and threw myself on the couch from what was an exhausting day (my doctors appointment, then Nugget's, then the Post Office, then the deli to get a tuna sandwich, then to Baby Guru's for a play date, then to King's and then back home, all while bundled up Nugget decided to have a last minute freak out in his stroller. I can't blame him. He was only in there since 8 o'clock in the morning and it was now after 1. Anyway, as I flicked on the TV, there she was. Britney:For the Record. I clicked it off, searched for something else, but curiously came back. I watched the entire hour and a half (needless to say we ended up having leftovers for dinner, which were just as good)and I found myself sad. There, in front of all the cameras and people around her, was her emanating sadness for the world to capture-and judge. I'm not sure if everyone caught what I did, but in those moments when the camera wasn't on her and she was in the background I could see the blank face and dull eyes which spoke so much. She looked like a little girl spun in a world where everyone was directing and going and she was just lost in the shuffle.
I ended the show feeling bad for her, and feeling as if Britney's crazy spell isn't over. She might be well behaved and proper for now, but deep down inside her is the crazy no-holds-bound Britney who's just waiting to get the gusto and room to do it all again. Just maybe in a different form this time.
Trust me. Crazy Brit will be back!

Boardwalk Babies Walk

So, as long as the weather permits, we're bundling up our little ones and hitting the boardwalk for a nice stroll together on December 13th @ 1:30. We're meeting on the Boardwalk at National again, and we hope to see you there!

How come?

How come this family of 17 that's all over the place seems to have more energy and get more things done than I do with 1 baby? Even Jon & Kate Plus 8 seem to be doing better than I am. Could it possible be easier with more? Or are you in such a baby state of mind that the smallest achievement like mopping the floor is a grand deal? And is it possible that Mommy Guilt has no room to exist? Even so what do they do when they're feeling overwhelmed and in need of their own time, because I know I can't be the only mom out there who needs a break from time to time. Like today for example.
Today I'm tired, and let's just be honest-Bitter. I've been back from my Thanksgiving getaway at my in-laws for 5 days and I already have a pile of laundry to bring to the mat (no my apartment doesn't have a washer or dryer), a sink full of dishes (no my apartment doesn't have a dishwasher), unwritten thank you notes, a Christmas letter (I swore to myself I'd do one this year) that I've yet to begin, writing assignments that aren't finished, writing contacts I'm supposed to be making for writing gigs, Christmas cookies that I was planning on making and giving as gifts to my friends and neighbors-but I can't seem to get to any of them done. Sometimes I look at the day and wonder what I did. And somedays showering doesn't even fall in the list. Maybe I need some vitamins? Or just a full day in bed? But whatever I need I can't get to it today because I'm off to the Source to take Christmas pictures of Nugget at Fortunoff and then I've got to get to the mall to see what I can scrounge out for gifts. Don't be surprised if I stop off and shave my head too. Hey it would be one thing I could knock of my lists of everyday to-do's!