I want to take a second to talk about the so-called “glow” of pregnancy.

I know it’s been said before, by soooo many other women, but I just can’t help myself. Not only is the “GLOW” a bunch of crap, but I have yet to meet a pregnant woman that actually glowed.

I looked it up, just to be sure, and while pregnancy hormones can make your skin change, it’s usually for the worse, not for the better.

In my case, one of my toughest challenges and annoyances has been acne. Now, I’ve never had perfect skin, but I at least had it under control, that is until those damn pregnancy hormones destroyed my body.

Maybe it’s the excess oil. From a distance, maybe the oil makes me glisten and glow, but up close, all you can see is the mini constellation on my face, and yes, the big dipper is featured on my chin.

So, that brings me to my next thought.

I honestly don’t remember being quite so miserable during my first pregnancy. You know how they say that your 2nd pregnancy always differs from your first, well that couldn’t be more true in my case.

Granted, I was working during my first. A nice cushy desk job it was, and I didn’t have to chase around a 3 year old, but it’s more than that. It just seems less, I don’t know, exciting.

Now, I’m not saying that I’m not excited to meet Baby #2, because I am, and I’m so thankful, but the joy of pregnancy that I felt with the first just doesn’t seem to exist. Why is that?

Well, the obvious answer would be, because I know what’s coming, and I’m not just talking about labor either. Honestly, I’m more worried about the next time I’m going to sleep.

With the first, all I thought about WAS the labor. How bad is it going to be? Will there be complications? When can I get the drugs? What if the drugs wear off and I can’t get any more? EPISIOTOMY, I’d rather die! You know, all that stuff.

(FYI: Don’t look up the word EPISIOTOMY on Google, you’ll get a nice display of images that will haunt you for the rest of your life!)

The differences between pregnancy number 1 and number 2 are astounding.

With number 1 I was so incredibly careful about everything I put into my body. I was determined to eat all the right foods, and stay away from the bad stuff.

I think I only allowed myself 1, maybe 2 cups of coffee a day. Now I drink it till it starts to come back up.

I used to scan labels at the grocery store, research better nutrition on the computer, etc. Now, the only label I worry about is the one with the price tag. I even went to my Husbands Christmas party and ate about a pound of crab, not even thinking about it. MERCURY, HELLO! Oops….

Then there’s the baby bump. With the first I documented my bump every month, if not every week. I watched my weight like a hawk, making sure I was gaining exactly what I should be, not too much, and not too little.Pregnant Cartoon

Now, I’ve only had my photo taken once, and that was only because I just happened to be standing in front of someone else’s camera. As for the weight gain, I really couldn’t care less. I eat whatever I have to just to get through the day, and then I pray that when I bend over it won’t come back up.

Heavy lifting is a no-no. With the first I avoided lifting anything over 20 pounds just to be safe.

Now, that number has doubled, and the only thing that stands in my way is the enormous basket ball stuck to the front of my body. It makes carrying things extremely awkward.

That brings me to the size of my bump. With my first, I was tiny. I never really got big. With number 2, I surpassed my first pregnancy size somewhere around 6 months. I remember thinking I felt huge with the first, now I could slap myself. My belly button no longer exists, and my skin is so tight I feel like I could burst at any second.

Then there’s the stretch marks! I hardly got any, if I did get any at all, with my first. I was religious about applying lotions day and night. I even carried some with me to work every day in case I felt a little dry.

Now, I don’t have time for that crap! I’m lucky if I even get to shower once a day, let alone spend 10 minutes covering my entire body with lotion.

I also remember obsessing over baby stuff. Clothes, diapers, swings, bouncers, etc. I’d spend hours trying to decide which one was better for baby.

Now, I’m like, “Eh, it’s good enough.” The only thing I obsess over now is the price. FREE is my favorite word! And who cares if it’s used, those stains give it character! Besides, you should see it when my kid gets done with it!

I also remember worrying about whether or not I was going to have a “good” baby. I’ve heard the stories. Mom and Dad bring Baby home, Baby sleeps through the night, hardly ever cries, etc. I know now, such a thing doesn’t really exist, so at least there won’t be that disappointment.

That brings me to my final thought. Regardless of how much this pregnancy differs from the last, one thing remains the same. I really am blessed. I look at Z sometimes and wonder how we got so lucky. She might be a GIANT pain in my ASS sometimes, but damn it! I love her so much!

So at least I have that going for me. I have no delusions about this pregnancy, or what will happen after Baby #2 gets here. I know the reality, and when it gets hard, I can look at Z and remind myself that we can do it, and that in the end, it’s 100% worth it!

 

Posted in Being a Mommy | Leave a comment

So I realize it’s been a very, very long time since I’ve written anything, but I just had to share.

Every day with the Incredible Z is an adventure, it really is, especially when you take a trip to Walmart!

Z loves Walmart! There’s so much to see, so much to do, and so many people to talk to.

Z is exactly like her Father. She is extremely outgoing, and she loves to talk to EVERYONE!

So we begin our adventure in the window covering isle.

Our mission, new blinds for the living room.

I can tell she’s getting impatient because she keeps wandering off. Pretty soon I hear her sweet little voice one isle over.

Z: “Hi! I’m Zoey.”

Some lady: “Hi Zoey, I’m Pam, it’s nice to meet you.”

I quickly set down the blinds and walk over to the next isle. Sure enough, Z has singled out one of the Walmart employees, probably knowing that she couldn’t get away, and proceeds to tell her, at length, all about herself.

I finally get her attention and herd her back to the blinds. After picking out a couple we move on to the next item on our list, curtains.

As we round the corner I notice a lady browsing the curtain isle. I also notice that this particular lady is missing one arm.

Now, my first thought was, “Oh God, please don’t let Z notice, please don’t let Z notice!”

But sure enough, Z zero’s in on the missing appendage like a Lion zero’s in on its prey.

I didn’t even have time to stop her, she literally ran right up to this lady, with a very concerned look on her face, and said “OH NO! What happened to your arm?”

I actually didn’t know what to do. As the sweat started dripping off my forehead, I considered grabbing her and running.

Me: “Z, that’s rude honey, come here please!”

Z: “But her arm is missing Mom! What happened to her arm?”

Me: “Honey, it’s not polite to ask, now COME HERE!”

The poor lady looked so uncomfortable. She seemed lost for words, so she just smiled and took a few steps back.

I knew it wasn’t over. Z would not leave it alone!

She actually got mad at me because I was ignoring the obvious, which was of course the fact that this poor lady didn’t have an arm, and we absolutely had to know WHY!

Z: “Mom! Her arm is missing!”

Me: “What do you think about these curtains? Or how about these? What color are those, can you tell me?

Z: “MOM! Her arm! What happened to her arm!”

Great, what the HELL am I supposed to do now! Damage control I guess. So I direct my attention to the lady with the missing appendage.

Me: “I’m so sorry. She’s three and she doesn’t have a filter.”

Lady: “It’s okay, I have a seven year old, so I know exactly how it goes…………. I was in the military, that’s how I got hurt and lost my arm.”

Me: “Oh……… Thank you……. I mean thank you for your service.”

So as I stumble over my words, trying to say the right thing, Z is getting even more irritated. Not only are we having a conversation that she’s not included in, but she has no idea what the military is.

How do you explain to a three year old what the Military is? I wanted to tell her that this woman was a Hero. That she lost her arm fighting for our country.  I wanted to tell her that we owe this women a lot more than just a thank you, but I couldn’t. Not only did I NOT want to embarrass this lady any further, but I knew I had to be careful with my words, or Z would have a whole other line of questioning.

So I tell her, “Honey, she was in the Military, it’s kind of like an extra special police force that protects us, and she lost her arm in an accident.”

This at least seemed to satisfy her.

We finally said good bye to our new friend and headed to the checkout. As we’re waiting in line Z proceeds to carry on a conversation with an older gentleman standing behind us. By the time I get the cart loaded and ready to go, they’re on a first name basis and Z has invited him to her Birthday party.

We then decide to grab a bite to eat at the Walmart Subway.

As we’re sitting there eating I notice a woman taking a seat directly behind Z. I also notice that she has a teeny-tiny newborn baby with her. Of course, it doesn’t take Z long to spot the baby either. Before I knew it she had practically crawled over the seat trying to get a closer look.

The woman was very sweet, and thankfully very understanding. As we were getting ready to leave I noticed that the lady had pulled out a blanket and was breastfeeding her newborn son.

Aaaah, how sweet. As I’m standing there, reminiscing about the past and thinking of the future, I forget for a moment where I am, and who is with me. That is until I look down and notice the Incredible Z standing beside me with a very concerned look on her face.

She looks at me, then she looks back at the woman. Then she says, “Oh no! Where’s your Baby?”

Realizing that the Baby is completely hidden from view I tell her, “Honey, the Baby’s eating.”

She then proceeds to scan the entire restaurant searching for the Baby.

Z: “Where?”

Me: “He’s under the blanket honey, he needs his privacy to eat.”

I have to admit, I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t.

Before I can stop her, Z rushes over to the poor woman and tries to peel back the blanket!

As I’m fumbling around trying to get past the DAMN shopping cart, the poor lady is holding her own. Finally I yell, “Z STOP IT!”

She stops dead in her tracks, looks up at me with the most confused look on her face and says, “I just wanted to see the Baby eat Mom.”

Me: “I know honey, but you need to give Baby and Momma some privacy.”

I quickly apologize to the poor woman who luckily seems to be very understanding. In fact, she can’t seem to stop giggling. She then tells me that she also has a 3 year old at home. THANK GOD!!

The Incredible ZWhat can I say, it was a very interesting visit to Walmart, and even though there were a few incredibly embarrassing moments, it was totally worth it!

I never would have had the opportunity to thank a Military Veteran for her service, or laugh with another mother about how funny our children can be, if Z hadn’t been there to break the ice.

My incredible Z, she’s special in so many ways, and even though she’s a handful, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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I have a confession to make…….

The person that I used to be, well, she was kind, easy-going, carefree, outgoing, spontaneous, and incredibly patient.

It’s unfortunate really, she doesn’t come around much anymore.

I probably ripped her a new one, now she’s off hiding in some hole licking her wounds.

She’s been replaced, by an impatient, overly-anxious, angry hermit that’s prone to fits of rage. It’s too bad really.stress-cartoon1

I’m NOT joking!

And no, it’s not my particular state that’s to blame, pregnancy that is. I’ve been like this for quite some time now. I’m pretty sure it has something to do with Motherhood, or maybe being a stay-at-home Mom.

Don’t believe me?

A couple months ago, I cussed out the Schwans guy. I’m not proud of it, in fact, I’m incredibly ashamed of it.

His crime, knocking on my door during nap-time. Both kids were sleeping, Z, and Smiley, the sweet little baby boy I watch during the day. Everybody knows, you don’t show up at my house before at least calling and warning me first. That way I have plenty of time to put the dogs out, so they won’t bark and wake up my sleeping angels. And yes, they’re only Angles when they’re sleeping.

Poor Schwans guy! How was he supposed to know? It’s not like there was a sign on my gate that said, “Enter at your own RISK”, or “Angry hermit at large”.

Okay, so I didn’t exactly cuss him out, not like I did the Pizza guy that one time, but that’s a whole other story. He simply asked me how my day was going, and I said, “Well, it was good, I was just about to sit down and relax, maybe catch an episode of Bones, maybe even take a shower, that was up until you showed up and woke up my kids.”

He just stared at me, probably waiting for me to laugh. Instead, he said “Sorry”, handed me his little magazine, and walked away just as quickly as he could.

Now, I only fumed for about 10 minutes, then the guilt rolled in…..

What is wrong with me? He was only doing his job!

So what did I do?

I found the magazine, which I had previously filed in the trash can, and luckily there just happened to be a name and phone number on the front. So I called…..and got his voice mail…..

“Hi, this is Tasha. You don’t know me, but today you stopped by my house. I was the crabby stay-at-home Mom that basically blamed you for ruining her entire day. You know, the one with the crazy hair and the over-grown eyebrows. Anyways, I just wanted to say I was sorry for being such an “itch” with a capitol B. No excuses. I had no right, and I’m incredibly sorry…… Okay, well that’s it, I hope you have a nice day! Thank you for the magazine by the way, everything looks delicious…… Bye!”

Poor Schwans guy. At least I had the decency to apologize. The Pizza guy wasn’t so lucky, in fact, I’ll probably never be able to order pizza from them again.

His crime, asking me way too many questions, getting impatient waiting for my answers, and then telling me that I would have to pay extra for fresh tomatoes! What is this world coming to!

Today’s Lesson: Don’t cuss out the Schwans guy, he’s just doing his job, and you’ll feel terrible later. Further more, don’t cuss out the Pizza guy either, especially if you plan on ordering from them anytime in the future. I will have to move, change my phone number, and possibly my name before I’ll ever be able to order another stuffed crust pizza again!

Please, I beg you, learn from my mistakes! Always be kind to others, no matter what!

Posted in TMI (Too Much Information) | Leave a comment

My sweet little Z, I love her soooo much!picky-eater

I really do, but she is such a pain in my ASS!!

She’s a picky-eater! An incredibly picky-eater!

I used to enjoy cooking, but now, it’s sooo frustrating!!

She won’t eat anything, unless of course it’s smothered in peanut butter, soaked in ranch, or covered in ketchup. Oh, and if she has to chew it more than once, NO WAY!

If she can’t identify each and every ingredient, NO WAY!

If, for whatever reason, it resembles poop in any way, shape, form, or color, HELL NO!

In other words, no casseroles, no meat, no soups, and no salads! No chili, no hot dogs, and no pasta’s!

I’m a good cook too, just ask my husband and his friends. I take pride in the food I serve. I haven’t always been that way. There was a time when all I could cook was Hamburger Helper. To this day, if my husband even see’s a box of that stuff, he starts gagging. The poor guy can’t even eat hamburger anymore.

I’ve come a long way, and I’m proud of it, but lately, I HATE COOKING!!

I keep telling myself that someday, she’ll appreciate all my hard work in the kitchen. My chicken pot pie’s from scratch, my slow cooker chicken and dumplings, my homemade pizza’s, and my amazing Mexican casseroles.

From what I understand, I was a bit of a picky-eater myself, and I guess, so was my husband. I apparently had issues with meat. Chewing grossed me out. My husband on the other hand survived on Spam and hot dogs for the first 5 years of his life. So, maybe this is payback.

I have hope though. I love my Mom’s cooking now, and my husband can’t stand the sight of Spam, so that’s good news.

It’s funny, Z won’t eat my cooking, but she’ll eat other things, things that are NOT meant to be eaten.

For instance, the other night, after bedtime, she called me into her room. She was upset. She told me that her book was broken, and that I needed to fix it. Upon further examination of the book, I noticed a large bite-sized chunk missing from the back cover.

Me: “Z, did you take a bit out of your book?”

Z: “Yes. Momma fix it, it’s broken.”

Me: “Honey, I can’t fix it, you ate it!”

She starts crying……

Me: “Okay, where’s the missing piece of paper?”

She smiles, pats her belly and says, “It’s in my tummy.”

Me: “Exactly, I can’t fix it without the missing piece! Seriously kid, you have to STOP eating paper, and you have to STOP chewing on your books! It’s bad for you!”

Z: “No it’s not, it’s yummy.”

Me: “No Z, the creamy chicken casserole I cooked for dinner tonight was yummy, your books are gross!”

Z: “Fix in Momma, FIX IT!”

Me: “Okay, I’ll see what I can do, now go to sleep, and no more snacks! Do you understand?”

Z: “Okay Mommy.”

I’m too cheap to buy hard covered books, but now, I think I might have to.

 Books with Bites missing

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The FIRST SNOW FALL!!!!

Three months from now, I’m going to hate myself for saying this, but waking up to 3 inches of snow the other morning, was AWESOME!

I honestly don’t know why I was so excited, but I couldn’t wait to put on my snow pants and roll around in it!

Z was excited too, in fact, as soon as her Daddy pointed out this new discovery, she put on her snow boots and rushed outside at 7:30 am.

We spent the rest of the day doing anything, and everything you could possibly do in the snow. We started with a snowman of course. Z was super excited, but once she learned how hard it was to actually roll a giant snowball, she left the snowman building to me. It took me a while. There really wasn’t that much snow to work with, and every so often I’d roll over a giant dog terd that would stick and I’d have to start fresh.

Once the snowman was built we moved on to a snowball fight, which eventually turned into snow cone making. We even did a little bit of sledding. FYI, regardless of what you’ve seen on TV, trash can lids do NOT make good sleds.

We didn’t stop until we were both freezing cold and wet!

The snow unfortunately did not last long. Later in the day when it began to melt, Z was beyond disappointed. She was so worried about snowman, she checked on him every 10 minutes or so. When he began to lean backwards, I realized that the moment he fell over, Z would be inconsolable.

Sure enough, the next day, he toppled over. Z discovered it before I did…..

“Snowman! Oh NO, MY SNOWMAN! FIX HIM MOMMA, FIX HIM!”

I quickly jumped into action and tried to resurrect Mr. Snowman. The body was still in pretty good condition, but his head had a suffered a severe blow which left it in three different pieces. I was somehow able to smush him back together, and get him standing again. He didn’t look pretty, but it was the best I could do. Z was satisfied and that was all that mattered.

Later that evening when Dad returned home from work, after greeting us at the back door, he said, “What the HELL is with that super creepy zombie snowman outside?”

After investigating, I noticed that snowman was now leaning forward, in a very odd zombie like position. His face was so disfigured, you couldn’t tell what was an eye, or what was a nose. To be honest, I have no idea why he was still standing, but he was, and it was kind of creepy.SnowmanSo, that gave me a great idea! This year, I totally want to build an army of zombie snowmen in the front yard. Talk about original, right?

I’m so excited! Can’t wait for the next big snow fall! Does anybody know where I can get some FAKE Blood?

Snowman with Face

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So, I forgot to mention our new arrival in my last post. Her name is IZZY…….

No, I haven’t had the Baby yet, she’s a dog.

In August we lost our first born, Kassy, our Border Collie Lab cross. We got her just after we got married, 10 years ago. To say that losing her was hard, would be a royal understatement.My Husband and Kassy

Now, Kassy may have been our dog, but she was really my husband’s best friend. Of course, we later added to the mix and got Mya, another Border Collie Lab cross. Now Mya is my dog, 100% my dog.

So, after we lost Kassy, my husband had a whole that needed to be filled.

We weren’t going to rush it, honestly, that was the plan. But then, I found out I was pregnant, and everything changed. I told my husband that if he wanted another dog he needed to do it soon because there was no way I was going to have an untrained puppy in the house with a new baby! HELL NO!

So, here we are.

Now Izzy is actually pretty amazing. If only kids were that easy to train, and trust me, I’ve tried all the same tricks, aside from rubbing Z’s nose in her own mess of course, although, the thought has crossed my mind…..

Anyways, back to Izzy. She’s smart! Super smart! Within 3 days she was potty trained. She barks when she wants to go out, and barks when she wants to come in. She sits, she lays down, she even crawls.

No, she’s not perfect. Like any other puppy, she likes to chew on things. Dirty underwear, shoes, Z’s pony, the coffee table, etc. For the most part, it’s been an easy fix. Pick up the underwear, pick up the toys, make sure she has plenty of chew toys, etc.

However, some days I forget, she is just a puppy.

The other day, after Z and I returned from the grocery store, this is what we found……..

GarbageOf course, I immediately sent my husband this picture, with a little message.

LOOK WHAT YOUR DOG DID!!!!!

Now you have to understand, Izzy is perfect in my husband’s eyes. She can do no wrong! Poor Mya will always be number two to him, and that just pisses me off! Mya is a good dog, a damn good dog, maybe not as smart, and maybe a little bit odd, but she’s loyal, at least to me.

I’m not a resentful person, really I’m not, but I can’t help but play the little sister role in all this, that is to say, a tattle tale.

Every time Izzy does something naughty, I document it. Like for instance this……..

Hole in the back yardLOOK WHAT YOUR DOG DID TODAY!!!!

Yep, it’s an enormous hole in the back yard, right next to the fence. One could say that she was trying to escape, but I personally think it has something to do with the fact that our neighbor likes feeding her puppy treats.

There’s also a little bit of a battle for dominance going on right now. Not between my husband and I of course, I stepped down a long time ago, but between Mya and Izzy.

My husband seems to think that there is no question, Izzy will be the dominant dog. I however, have other plans. My money may be on Izzy, but all of my hopes and prayers go to Mya!

The other day, I caught Mya humping Izzy! I was so damn proud, I almost cried!

“You go girl! That’s right, show her who’s boss!”

Yes I know, disturbing, but that’s just how the dog world works.

Regardless of who wins this battle for dominance, I have to say, I’m pretty happy with our new family member. She’s the perfect playmate for Mya, and she absolutely loves Z.

I love it when she crawls into bed with Z and cuddles during story time, or when she plays tug-a-war with her, or when they play “chase me cause I stole your toy”.

Those moments make it easy to forget the garbage strewn all over the floor, the hole in the backyard by the fence, the gnawed on recliner, the two pairs of underwear I’ve already had to throw away, and even the thirty dollar bra I had to sew back together. It’s totally worth it!

Did I mention that she’s really freaking cute too!Izzy and Mya

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You know that saying, “When PIGS fly”?

Well, I’m pretty sure that somewhere in the world, a PIG has mastered the art of flight.

Let me explain……

There are a few things that I honestly thought I would never, and I mean NEVER, say to my husband.

For instance……..

“Anything new on Facebook?”

Seriously, the day my husband mastered Facebook was the day I realized, ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN!

You have to understand, my husband is anti-technology, anti-computer, anti-anything that has to do with advancements in mankind. He’s a mountain man, and a sexy one at that!

Up until recently, he had always referred to Facebook as, “Face Plate”, which he commonly confused with, “My Face”.

I realize that this may not seem very exciting to you, but to me, it’s HUGE!

He posts more than I do, reads more than I do, and comments more than I do.

I don’t know if I should feel sad, proud, or disturbed.

Then, the other night, I actually had to tell him this………

“Put down the SMART phone! Seriously, we’re eating dinner!”

A SMART PHONE! My husband owns a SMART phone! I never, ever, ever, thought that would ever happen! What is this world coming to?

Granted, he hasn’t completely mastered it yet, but he’s doing pretty damn good, and I guess it does make his job a little easier.

The funny thing is, he used to tease all of our friends about having a mini-tv for a phone. HA!

The SMART phone is just the tip of the ice berg. Having access to the internet, right there in his pocket, every second of everyday has actually opened up a whole new can of worms.

The other night, this happened………

“No, no, no! It’s family movie night! Not Candy Crush night!”

That’s right, my husband now plays Candy Crush!

Seriously, have you seen the pig? You know, the one that’s FLYING!

Of course, part of me loves the fact that I now have something to tease him about. Every time I see him on his phone, I giggle and point out his new addiction.

He actually offered to let me play the other day. I kindly declined of course.

Everyone I know seems to be suffering from this addiction. So I figure, it must be like METH. Try it just once, and BAM, you’re hooked for life! Therefore I avoid it like the plague!

I even shield my eyes if it happens to come into view. I’m terrified that making eye contact with it will turn me into some kind of CANDY CRUSH ZOMBIE!

You could even go as far as to say that the disturbing candy crush music is like a siren, luring it’s unsuspecting victims in one by one……..Too far? Maybe, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.Pigs Fly

So, that’s it. If anyone see’s the PIG, take a picture of that SHIT and send it to me!

Oh, and until I prove my Candy Crush Zombie and Siren theory, it’d be best if you just avoided it all together, and if you’ve already fallen victim, well, look for a CCA, Candy Crush Anonymous, near you.

Until next time, have a fantastic day, and stay CCF, Candy Crush FREE!

 

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I’d love to tell you that I’ve been incredibly busy. That life has been CRAZY, and finding time to sit down and write has just been impossible.

But, the truth is, I’ve been distracted and a tad bit LAZY!

I could go into detail, tell you everything that’s happened, but that just wouldn’t be any fun. So instead, let’s talk about something a bit more interesting. Like say for instance, my little Z.

She’s three now, as of July 29th. I still can’t believe it.

My sweet little Z.

My 5 pound little bundle of joy, so little and so precious, all grown up now.

Aaaahhh, I still remember the day we brought her home, it was absolute bliss…….

Well, maybe not bliss. She was yellow, and only 5 pounds. She also cried a lot! Come to think of it, the whole thing was kind of a nightmare.

I’m not entirely sure why people insist on calling babies “bundles of joy”, why not “bundles of terror”, or “bundles of anxiety”. That’s exactly what Z was, my teeny, tiny “bundle of terror and anxiety”.

It’s true, I didn’t know what the HELL I was doing, in fact I still don’t.

Regardless, here we are, three years later, still winging it.

It’s funny, I was dreading the terrible two’s, and I couldn’t WAIT for them to be over, but that’s only because nobody told me how terrible the three’s can be.

At least when she was two she was still kind of scared of me, now she could care less. She knows all my tricks, and I can’t get away with ANYTHING! She’s smarter now, more independent, and certainly more stubborn.

Let’s just say, I’ve been watching an awful lot of ‘Nanny 911′. It makes me feel better about myself as a Mom, and I’m always looking for some pointers.

I figure, if you’re not telling yourself that you’re a TERRIBLE MOM, at least once a day, than you’re not doing it right. Yep, that’s what helps me sleep at night.

Anyways, back to Z. Did I mention she was three?

I swear, some days, it’s like she’s thirteen. It’s like we somehow skipped a decade while I was sleeping. The other day, she actually told me that she wanted a new Mommy! Can you believe that? I thought I had at least another 10 years before she started hating me.

She can be soooo sweet, and then in the next moment, venomous! Like a snake just waiting to strike its prey.

One second, she tells me she’s helping me pick up, cause that’s what big girls do. Then the next second, when I ask her to pick up her tools, she says “That’s ENOUGH Momma! Your attitude SUCKS today!”

Seriously! I know, I know, I only have myself to blame, and trust me, it could’ve been a HELL of a lot worse. Kind of like the other day when we went to the Grocery Store.

There we were, strolling through the canned vegetable isle, when Z suddenly comes to an abrupt stop. She says, “SHOOT, SHOOT, SHOOT! I forgot my list!”

Now, it would’ve been really cute, except for the fact that her “shoot” sounded an awful lot like “shit”.

The lady ahead of us actually pulled an exorcism. I swear, her head swiveled on her shoulders leaving the rest of her body behind. I can’t say that I blame her for her open-mouthed stare, I probably would’ve done the same in her shoes.

I quickly corrected Z by saying, “you mean shoot baby. The word is shoot.”

So, aside from watching my little Z grow up, and learning to live with her ever-expanding vocabulary, life in general has been pretty uneventful.

Well, except for one thing………We’re having another BABY!!

That’s right!

I suppose I should’ve opened with that, but I kind of felt like I needed to work up to it.

1104132129Of course, we’re all extremely excited, except for maybe my husband. He’s still coming to terms with it.

Z is especially excited. She reminds me on a daily basis that I need to be careful because there’s a baby in my tummy. She also likes to examine my belly button in hopes of spotting the little surprise tucked inside, and no, I don’t mean lint. She seems to think that my belly button will be the exit point. I haven’t felt like correcting her yet.

The other day I had my first ultrasound. Z and Grandma accompanied me. Z was so funny, as I’m lying there listening to the heart beat and watching the little profile on the screen, Z walks up to me with this concerned look on her face.

She says, “Push it out Momma!”

I could’ve died laughing. Then, when we left the office, as we’re walking down the hall, Z get’s this very confused look on her face. She starts looking around, then she says, “Oh no, where’s the Baby Momma”.

I giggled and told her, “It’s still in my belly honey, it’s not ready yet.” This seemed to satisfy her.

I’m not going to lie, the last few months have been rough. I got hit with all the first trimester BULL SHIT! The nausea, the lifelessness, the soreness, especially in the boob area, the constipation, and did I mention the lack of energy? Anyways, I’m finally starting to feel better.

So, that’s pretty much it. I’ll try to be better about writing, but I won’t make any promises, not that you’d believe them anyways.

If you’re actually still reading my blog, what little there is of it, thank you! I really appreciate it!

Talk to ya soon,

TaSha

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So far this summer, there are three things that I am particularly proud of.

Number one:George and the Carrot

I have a vegetable garden!

Thanks to my niece, who actually spent like an hour talking me into it, and Curious George of course, who spent an entire summer growing carrots in one episode,  I now have sweet peas, green beans, potatoes, chives, and hot peppers in my back yard!

Granted, there’s a huge empty spot full of weeds that was supposed to be sprouting carrots by now, but I figure, you win some and you lose some.

Number two:

Thanks to my husband and his buddy, I now have a clothes line. Yep, totally old school, but I’m damn proud of it!

I haven’t used the clothes drier in almost three months now!

Granted, we’ve only saved like $20 dollars on our electric bill, but twenty bucks is twenty bucks man!

Number three:

I’ve lost close to 15 pounds, thanks to Jillian Michaels and her 30 day shred video.

Granted, I still HATE her, and her six pack, but she’s no liar! That circuit training crap really works!

So now, not only am I eating healthy vegetables grown in my own garden, I’m exercising right, and I’m helping the economy, not to mention my husband’s wallet. What’s not to be proud of?

 

Back to the vegetable garden…..

After my niece talked me into it, I kid you not, I was on a mission.

That very day Z and I started digging a hole in the back yard. After I got about half way through, I decided I better call my husband and make sure he was cool with it.

Of course, what could he say, I already had the garden half dug up……..he he he.

Anyways, once he got home and saw the mess I had made, he decided we needed an actual plan for this garden. Leave it to my husband, if we’re going to do something, we’re going to do it right!

I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned this before, but my husband is a tad bit Anal when it comes to certain things. I am however, extremely thankful for this.

Not only would I have had this enormous ugly hole in the back yard, but it probably wouldn’t have grown anything, and what would’ve grown, would have either been, consumed by the local wild life, aka the deer, or trampled by ferocious hounds, aka my dogs.

So the next day, not only did he go out into the woods and cut down some pecker poles, but he also de-barked them, and went to Murdochs and bought fencing.

By the end of the day, I had a beautiful fence around my once ugly hole. Then, on top of that, he also bought me compost and potting soil, oh, and of course the seeds!

My Vegtable GardenYep, that husband of mine is pretty special….

The best part of the whole experience was watching Z, as she developed a rather unusual love for worms…..

Seriously, every worm was her friend. She’d pick them up, cradle them in her arms, let them wiggle on her arm, scream and giggle in delight as they tickled her, and then proceed to cart them around the yard.

She even sent a few of them down the slide, pushed them on the swing, and took them for a dip in the pool.

Of course, when they stopped wiggling, she’d get upset. I’d just tell her, “It’s okay baby, they’re tired, you pooped them out. Why don’t you put them back in the dirt and let them rest for a while.”

This worked of course, but then she’d find a new captive and proceed to “tire” them out as well……… Poor worms…….

At least it wasn’t the cat this time, then again, it was pretty funny when she tried to send the cat down the slide, oh, and that one time when she threw her in the pool………Poor cats……..

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So the other night, I discovered my worst nightmare……

The BOUNCY HOUSE FROM HELL!

In other words, one of those air filled bouncy houses with 15 screaming children.

Bouncy HouseSeriously, shouldn’t there be some rules associated with this sort of adolescent fun?

For example:

  • DO NOT smash other kids in the face with those ridiculous air filled posts.
  • Do NOT climb UP the slide.
  • DO NOT trample over small children.
  • DO NOT shove other children out of the way so that you can get to the slide first.

I’m gonna be honest here…….

I have some control issues, and that combined with the fact that I’m a bit over-protective, DOES NOT mesh well.

Granted, Z held her own pretty well, she even seemed to enjoy herself, but for whatever reason, I was completely out of control!

I think it has something to do with the fact that I am also, extremely claustrophobic. Seeing her trapped inside like a little caged animal, with all those other wild animals, actually made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

I can’t even tell you how many children I yelled and screamed at.

“HEY! It’s not your turn! Move BACK!”

“Um, excuse me….ya you….. the slide is not a ladder, it’s a slide, and you generally slide DOWN a slide, not up….so GET OUT OF THE WAY AND LET THE OTHER KIDS GO!”

Like I said, out of control….

The guy that was actually running the show, asked me if I needed a job. HA! You couldn’t pay me enough!

The funny thing is, you could totally tell who my daughter was too. Picture this…….

Here’s this crazy lady, with her nose pressed up against the mesh lining watching the kids, yelling on occasion, even fuming a bit. Then, there’s this little girl in the middle of the Bouncy House From HELL, screaming at the top of her lungs….”YOU STOP IT RIGHT NOW! HEY, YOU STOP IT RIGHT NOW!”

I’ve never been so proud……..You tell’em Z!

All in all, it was actually a pretty good night. We got to hang out with the family, listen to some awesome live music, enjoy some fresh kettle corn…….mmmmm…..my favorite, and we got to watch some lady do aerial acrobatics in a tepee with silk…….ya, it’s kind of hard to explain. Guess you had to be there. Z got a kick out of it though. She just kept clapping and clapping. When it was all over, she said, “I do that Mommy”.

I said, “of course you can baby, but not today,” as I steered her away from the tepee.

When the night was finally over, she was exhausted, I was exhausted, and I was beginning to lose my voice. Perhaps a little too much screaming……

Of course, we had to return to the Bouncy House From HELL one more time before we left.

I told her, “5 more minutes and then we have to go home.”

I quickly realized my error after the 5 minutes were up.

Me: “Hey Z, it’s time to go, come on.”

She then proceeds to bounce right by me and head for the other side, pretending not to hear me.

I started to panic…..

What if she doesn’t listen to me? What if I have to go in after her? Oh good Lord, there’s NO way I’m going in there! Nope, I’ll just have to sit here and wait until they shut it down……….. But that could be hours, and hours. I can’t wait that long! I have to get her out of there!

Me: “Z, NOW! It’s time to go…………How about we have some ice cream when we get home?”

That got her attention. Thank God! A little bribery goes a long way in my book.

As we said good bye to the Bouncy House From HELL, I had to promise to bring her back sometime soon.

Next time, I think I’ll take a Valium first.

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