Angels among us

I have some really, really good friends. A whole slew of them fixed meals for our family after M was born, and by that, I mean friends brought meals over for almost an entire month. I didn't have to worry about cooking until November rolled around, which was very much appreciated especially given all the sickness in my house and my infected incision.

Two friends have been especially wonderful to me, and I think of them as my angels.

My neighbor H is a stay-at-home mom of a high schooler and a son who just started college. One day we ran out of orange cheese (cheddar), so I called to ask her if she was gonna go out during the day if she would pick up some orange cheese for us. She brought over a chunk of orange cheese that she had at home and still fetched us some sliced stuff later in the day.

The other day, after having read about being stuck in the house again with sickos, she called and said she was going to the grocery and what did I need. I told her a gallon of organic skim milk and a fifth of vodka. She brought the milk and by declining to buy the booze prevented me from getting totally wasted and having my children taken away by CPS. She is always looking out for me.

And then there is KB, whom I have known since I was 14. Her sister, KL, and I have been dear friends since freshmen year, but KB and I have become more friendly since our oldest daughters are a couple of months apart in age.

KB, in addition to bringing us a meal after M was born, emailed me and asked if she could bring over some library books and dvds to help us weather the housebound crazies. And then she let me vent for a few minutes on the front porch when she dropped everything off. She also gives me all her old magazines so that I have something to do with my brain while nursing or watching the kids play. Ya know, for when seeing Thomas the Train go around the track for the 11 millionth time doesn't thrill my intellectual mind.

I always knew female friends were important, but since having my kids, my mom friends have been my salvation. I have my husband and mom to listen to me, but my husband has never been a mom, and my mom hasn't been in the "trenches" for a long time (long enough to forget a whole bunch of shit). But my mom friends live it everyday.

Their support has meant, and continues to mean, so, so much to me.

Needs being met?

Let me just preface this by saying that D already said to me, "So have you blogged about how pissed you are at me?" I don't yell or scream, but there sure ain't no hiding when I'm not happy about something.

Last night D stayed up until 1:00 a.m. playing Xbox games. My problem isn't with his playing games. My problem is that at 7:24 in the morning, I am "expected" to deal with all 3 kids while he stayed in bed (eventually he got up but it was after I had nursed M, gotten G up, changed his wet sheets, gotten myself dressed, and gotten 2 baskets worth of laundry ready to go downstairs.)

I mean, I was tired too and would have liked to have stayed in bed, because even though I went to bed a little before 10:00, I was awoken at half past ten because G was crying. And then I was awoken at 1:00 to nurse M. And then I was kept up until almost 4:00 am by M who wouldn't fall asleep. Sometime during the night I also dealt with N who had a coughing spell.

But to be perfectly honest I think I'm mad at myself as well because as I was getting up dealing with the kids and regular life (because I never get a weekend), a part of me wants to coddle him, thinking to myself that I ought to try to be quiet so he can sleep. I shouldn't turn on the bedside light because the glare will bother him.

I know D works hard and needs down time. Most Saturdays and Sundays, when G naps, I spend time with N (and now M) while D watches movies or plays computer games. So that is a couple hours per day most weekends. And then in the evenings, after the kids go to bed, D has tv or gaming time until he comes to bed. I don't demand "couple time" or expect him to sit with me. I try to be a pretty easy wife. I know him well enough to understand that he uses his games to decompress.

I guess right now, given that I am sleep-deprived and on almost 7 days inside with sick kids, I am just so tired of giving. I give to my family all.the.time. Feed them, wash their clothes, nurse them, change their diapers, prepare their food, pay the bills, call the insurance company, buy the toilet paper and toothpaste, make sure there is toilet paper in the bathrooms, buy groceries, purchase Christmas presents, and on and on.

Sometimes I'd like for D to say, "Hey, go lay down and rest. I'll man the ship." Even if I choose not to rest, it would make me feel good that someone, for once, thought of my needs. Without me having to ask it or demand it. I need someone to understand that I need to decompress regularly too.

Letter to the Queen Bitch of Sickness

Dear Queen Bitch of Sickness,

While I should probably thank you that you haven't visited really serious illness upon my house, I have to say I am really fed up with these low-level yuckies that keep invading our family space.

In the 7, yes 7, weeks since M joined our crew, we have had the following illnesses:

• N sick 3 times--2 respiratory viruses and 1 viral pneumonia (along with sinusitis)

• G sick 3 times--2 respiratory viruses and 1 pink eye

• M sick 2 times--fever and pink eye

• Me and D sick 2 times each with respiratory viruses

I can appreciate that you and your germ legions are just trying to survive. Aren't we all? But I really need for you to go find some crows or snakes to sicken instead of my family. I just ordered a bunch of used DVDs to get us through the winter, and we've already watched them to the point where we have memorized all the dialogue.

This morning's visit to the doctor with all 3 kids in tow will probably run me in the low $400s, what with the kids not having reached their deductibles this year. And the med costs for this week are standing at $150.

So, please, would you kindly just go fuck yourself???

Certainty

This Thanksgiving Day, I am grateful for certainty.

In my life there have been very few things about which I have felt certain. I expect many people feel similarly. I was certain I wanted to marry D and certain that he was a decent, "nice" guy who wouldn't hurt me. At twelve years of marriage and almost 15 as a couple, I know my feeling of certainty was right.

Career-wise, I didn't feel certain about anything until 1998, when I decided to get my MAT and become a middle school teacher. I loved teaching and someday I will get back to it. I feel in my heart I was meant to help kids learn.

Regarding children, before D and I married we didn't know if we wanted ANY kids, or if we did, we only wanted one. About three weeks after delivering N, I felt certain I wanted 3 kids. Illogical? Yes. But there it was.

And so we had G, and I still felt like I wanted another child. Maybe when G was 2.5 or 3, I could beg, plead and badger D into agreeing to conceiving another one.

But then M came along. An unexpected gift.

And now I feel certain that I am done with my childbearing. And I am happy about it. Even if something were to happen to one of the kids (god forbid), I am done.

Yesterday, I put up all of the 0-3 month clothes, since M was busting out the seams on them. I felt no sadness, no pangs of longing or grief. I felt relief to know that at some point relatively soon I will be passing along these clothes, having more empty space in my closets.

Moving onto the next stage of our life as a family, even though M will be an infant for quite a long time yet, is something I am finally ready for.

For certain.

Another day

Of being in the house. N is still feeling punky, and I feel pulled in 3 different directions.

She wants to snuggle and cuddle. G wants me to play. M wants to be held and nurse. Unfortunately, I cannot do these things at the same time, and most of the time a certain 7-week-old monopolizes my time. I wish I could make him understand that I can't hold him for 14 hours a day, but he just don't get it. G has been acting out a bit, I think due to being cooped up and having to watch M monopolize all of mommy's time.

Last night I made a wine shop and grocery run with M to get out of the house. Partly to avoid the pre-Thanksgiving rush and partly to rebalance my psyche.

Tonight M will accompany me to meet a friend for coffee. This is one is totally for my sanity.

I feel like such a wuss but being stuck in the house is no fun in general. Being stuck in the house due to illness is simply miserable.

Is it almost spring?

One hell of a day

I love my kids beyond words. I also profoundly hate being stuck in the house with them for many days in a row, which is what is happening now that N has been diagnosed with sinusitis and bronchitis. It doesn't take me very long to start going bonkers.

After watching The Wiggles and The Smurfs over and over again, I got desperate. One of the songs on the Wiggles' dvd is Six Months in a Leaky Boat and features Tim Finn, so I began my quest to relieve extreme boredom by researching Tim Finn and the song, which inevitably led to looking up the history of the Wiggles and the backgrounds of the members. Good god, you know you've reach pathetic when you research the Wiggles. I know more about Murray, Jeff, Anthony and Sam than I care to.

When I wasn't uber-bored, I was uber-frustrated. M kept fussing, and G was just being a 2-year-old pain---screaming, not knowing what he wanted, and pestering his sister and brother. I called D and asked him to come home for lunch, but OF COURSE, he had a lunch meeting. I think men plan lunch meetings just to ensure that their SAH wives have no choice but to not get a reprieve during the day.

We hadn't put up the pack-and-play, and weren't planning to because it takes up so much room, but I finally broke down today because I need a jail for G. I was wrestling with that contraption while G and M screamed. Fortunately, N seems to know when she is sick that momma is about 27 seconds from insane so she usually treads pretty lightly.

When D came home he was given instructions to occupy G. He is now dealing with all of them so that I can have some blogging therapy. He knows I don't do well with sick days. Hell, he would blow his brains out after half an hour of this shit.

Can't wait for tomorrow.

Quest for shoes

I rarely ever buy clothing or shoes. I did purchase two pair of yoga pants at the end of my pregnancy with M, but that was a matter of survival. The last two weeks of pregnancy require desperate measures, people. I think the last pair of shoes I purchased was in 2007, when I was pregnant with G.

However, having 3 kids now, 2 of them ages two and under, has made me even more cognizant of how quickly I need to be able to move to prevent the toddler from hitting, sitting on or painting the baby.

I can't even mess with velcro straps on shoes. I need slip-ons. The above cosmetic job took all of 23 seconds.

I had ordered a pair of skimmers from L.L.Bean but was terribly disappointed. They felt hard and inflexible and were promptly shipped back.

After asking FB friends where they had purchased comfy shoes, I headed out yesterday to Dillard's and checked out the brand names they had recommended. I began trying on various pairs and quickly realized that part of the discomfort is because my feet have apparently stretched out as much as my midriff.

I had N with me so I couldn't putz around, although I'm not a putzer anyway. I walked in and said, "I want slip on shoes that are extremely comfortable. Don't care about the cost or brand. Go!" Within 15 minutes I had a lovely and uber-comfy pair of Merrell brand shoes and was eating cinnamon pretzels at Auntie Annie's.

Now that is the way I like to shop.