Same old same old

This blog seems to be going no where, fast. I always feel like a whiner, 150% debbie downer. Well in general I am a "glass half empty" kinda gal, which let me tell you is a curse!!! 

This is my journal so it's not that I plan to stop blogging, it's just that I need some new "material" you know!?! 

I have some good news in the way of my photography business but I am waiting to share....maybe that will be the BOOST I need!!!

The new happy hour

4 o'clock on a day that I don't have to work is my new "happy" hour. Noah takes a luxurious 1.5- 2 hour nap every afternoon around this time. On Monday's I am fortunate to be home and have this time to myself, to unwind with a glass of wine and just chill.

It has been a long few days. I left off last week feeling good, Noah was eating better, the weather was in the 60's, nothing too crazy scheduled for the week. Let's just say that winter is back, Noah is teething ( i.e. not eating), he has a cold, bashed his face on the concrete at the end of the week, and I am PMS'ing.  And they say life is a roller-coaster, geesh. 

Lately I have been on the verge of snapping all the time. I drink to much. I have been eating too much. I fight with my hubby too much. I have been toying with the idea of seeking professional help for oh...16.5 months now and I have never had the courage to actually just do it.  The rational part of me knows it is for the best, but the unmotivated semi- depressed part of me can't seem to just get my shit together. For those moms with PPD or traumatic experiences, did you seek help? What was the final straw?

I am trying to count my blessings which as you can see are plentiful. I struggle with the guilt that my son is so far unscathed from a brain injury and here I am still fixated on the past and psychotically worried about the future. Am I just destined to be crazy? ( my hubby would answer a big fat YES). 

Today while I was out shopping a young mother was behind me in line. She had two children which appeared to be twins, Noah's age or maybe 1 or 2 months older. The little girl was in the shopping cart happily drinking her cup. The little boy was obviously severely disabled. Mom was carrying him in a front baby carrier ( he was small but had to be at least 16 months), he had little head control and kept having coughing fits. Mom was so gentle. She was so calm. She smiled, handed her twin her cup, talked about what they would do when they got home. I was in awe of her grace, strength, and calm presence. 

I often wonder how I would be if Noah had a different outcome. Would I be as crazy as I am now or would I have sucked it up, found the strength and been as wonderful as the mom I speak about above. Moments like this make me grateful but also a bit guilty. 

I am now going to try and enjoy my happy hour and my glass of chardonnay. I have a lot of reflecting to do and possible a hunt for a good therapist .....

Happy St. Patty's Day!

In 2004 my husband and I were in IRELAND for St. Patty's Day, what a treat!

In 2009, a mere five years later I went to work and didn't even wear green, what kind of Kelly am I??? 

Rest assured Noah donned his St. Pat's Finest and we had a mini photo session before I headed off to work and he headed off to mi-ma's house.

Hope you all are blessed with the luck o' the Irish today and in the days to come! 

P.S. : The vintage Noah is from 3-17-08, GAH! What a difference a year makes!!!! Where did my baby go?

Bipolar blogging

Sometimes my mood swings get the best of me. One moment I am fine, one moment, not so much.  I always turn to my blog when I am in a really foul mood, or a really great one- hence the reason why I feel like a bipolar blogger!

Today has been a great day. Monday is my day at home and quite honestly until lately I never really enjoyed it. I always feel guilty admitting that but I just don't think I was cut out to be a stay at home mom. My plan had always been to stay home with my four kids. Bahaha hahahahah. Joke is on me! Not only will I never have four children ( unless the next pregnancy brings triplets!) But I also don't think God has graced me with the patience to ever stay home full time. I love being a mom but I also love my job. I need to balance the two and maybe someday we will all live in perfect harmony. Until then, I enjoy my Monday SAHM day. 

My friend and co-worker K and her daughter G who is 11 months met up this morning for a trial music class. I swear we were the youngest moms by at least 10 years, some looked to be as old as my mother. I am no teen parent so I guess the trend is to now have kids in your 40's? Anyhow, the parents were all those crunchy granola types, so all in all I kind of felt like a sore thumb. We get to the class, take our shoes and socks off ( was NOT prepared for that one, my ugly winter troll toes probably scared the kiddies) and waited for the class to start. However, the instructor locked herself out of the studio, so class was canceled. Bummer. 

We spent the remainder of the morning going grocery shopping and off to buy a baby shower gift. We got home well past Noah's nap time and he was having no part in sleeping. Lunch...not so much. The routine was all off kilter and so we just played and hung out and I finally got Noah to eat a yogurt a little while ago. 

The good thing about today was that despite things not going according to plan, we survived and had a good time. 

Today is a good day!

I am a pregnant woman's worst nightmare!

Yesterday I finally got my hair cut. I last went in october and have honestly not had a chance since. I used to take Noah along with me on Monday's ( my day to be a SAHM) but he is too antsy and mobile now to sit still that long. My hubby work's Saturday, Sunday they are closed...and quite frankly judging by my tight pants and my lack of tweezing, I have been letting myself go. 

Finally my hair, or mane, or bush, not sure what descriptions fit best hit an all time low. My hair was borderline unruly. I have really long, curly hair. It was a mess. So I bit the bullet and made an appointment at the salon where I went for my hair and makeup on my wedding day. It's really pricey and although I kind of feel like the 60 bucks I spent on a haircut is a bit ridiculous ( not to mention the 30 bucks I spent on products), it was much needed! 

Your probably wondering how this connects to me being a pregnant woman's worst nightmare...so I will get to my point:

The salon owners daughter cut my hair. She is late 30's ( maybe 40?), was trying to conceive for a really really long time and finally got pregnant about 7 months ago. She was glowing, looked fabulous, and was so excited to talk about the baby. She is a sweetheart and I am really happy for her. The last time she did my hair was for my baby shower when the table's were turned and I was the one 7 months pregnant. I knew the questions were coming, and then BAM the famous  " Everything must have went great for you, how is the baby?"  

I never know how to answer this. Usually I end up spilling the whole thing, gory details and all. Afterwards I usually feel like an ass, like I shared too much information, like I am a basket case. Seeing as this sweet woman is pregnant, happy, naive, and generally care free about the whole birthing process I felt really bad answering her question. I politely stated that everything wasn't ok but that Noah is ok now. Short. Sweet. To the point. Oh! and I threw in the happy ending so I wouldn't upset her. I left out the post partum depression, the horror of the NICU, the geneticist, the neurologist, the toll it took on my marriage and all the other characters and details of my not so fairy tale birthing story.

Of course this wasn't enough. She wanted to hear more about it. I went through the whole " you will be fine, blah blah blah, but she kept pushing. So...I gave her some details. Not enough to make her freak or to make me sound like a nut case but I did feel like a debbie downer when it was all said and done. I feel like I am so negative about motherhood and childbirth, I kind of feel bitter.  I really enjoyed my haircut and my time for myself that the salon provided me, but I left with a sour taste, a lingering feeling of guilt. I love Noah so much and the joy he has given me is immeasurable. However, I still feel that when I describe motherhood, it's not always the nicest description. 

Just another step in the healing process I guess. 

Onward we go!

I am so happy winter is winding down and in a way I can not fathom that spring is almost here. To say that time is flying would be an understatement. 

Last March was the hardest month of my life. Well it is a toss up between November 2007 and March 2008, but I think March takes the cake. March is when at Noah's routine 4 month appointment our pediatrician decided that Noah was too "normal" to have suffered from a hypoxic brain injury and therefore had to have some sort of metabolic syndrome. We were referred to a geneticist and spent the next few months waiting for testing results. Can we say, nightmare??? The sights and smells of early spring have brought it all back. Reflecting on what was and being where we are now is comforting but in a way it brings me a lot of pain to think about what we went through.

I have said it time and time again but 16 months later it still blows my mind that this is the experience I have had being a first time mom. I know it's selfish and I know it could be a lot worse, but geez...it's just not fair! 

:::::putting on my big girl pants::::::: 

All joking aside I am exhausted. But in the famous words of my husband " if this hadn't happened, surely you would find something to worry about"....very true! 

I am just very thankful for a healthy little man, and the fact that it is friday. This week was brutal and I can't wait to have a glass ( or 3) of wine, relax in my jacuzzi tub and put on my frumpy yet heavenly pink robe. Am I 28 or 68?? Some days I am not too sure! 

Mommy Dearest

Everyone know the movie, about Joan Crawford? The famous line "no more wire hangers, EVER"!

That is how I felt saturday. Mean and witchy. I had a Mommy Dearest moment. 

Noah's eating, or lack thereof is driving me bonkers. His pickiness, his hour long lunches, they are beginning to rule my life. I have to calculate my schedule around Noah's eating. Sounds simple right? In my house it is anything but. 

So on Saturday, after my 9th attempt to give his something, anything that he would eat and he continued to refuse, I swiftly picked him up from his high chair, plopped him in his crib and went downstairs to cry. Not exactly Joan Crawford, but mean enough for me to feel guilty. I don't know why the food thing drives me so nutso but it does. I had an eating disorder for many years and was hospitalized as a teen. I don't know if there is a connect, a control thing on my part, but I am thinking maybe there is. I don't want Noah to have an unhealthy relationship with food and I fear this is where we are headed. 

Ok back to my "moment". So after I had a good cry, I composed myself and went to check on Noah who had been crying and was silent now for a good 5 minutes. When I went it, he was sitting in his crib, holding lovey and talking to him in his cute little jibberish. I melted. He was telling Lovey how mean mommy was. Since I can't translate jibberish this is only speculation, but it appeared this is what he meant to say. 

I got a book on feeding issues and healthy child/parent/eating relationships- I cracked that bad boy open last night and I am learning, and  trying to take it one day, or bite, at a time....