This shit is no joke.

Stay at home mom of two kids under two. This shit is no joke.

I'll say it again, it's the hardest thing I've ever done. I think about the 40 pounds I will lose after having Lincoln. That's nothing compared to the day in and day out adventures of being a SAHM. One kid, two kids, it doesn't matter. It's the toughest gig ever. Super rad and super tough. I heard a guy on NPR saying, "If you're worried about being a good parent, you're not the one that needs to worry." Whew! :)

The gym: my saving grace. The place where I can be me. I get to yell at people in class and they move their butts. I tried yelling at my 2 year old. He stared blankly at me, didn't even do the thing I wanted him to do, then starting crying. Awesome. I. am. Awesome. However, there's still the possibility that my gym time gets shortened by a poopy diaper or someone in hysterics.

I love my kids. I love them so much I can cry. I torture myself with horrible things that could happen like losing them. I could entertain the idea of suicide if anything ever happened to them. I would die for them if it meant saving them.
But, I love help more. Jason gets to be away all day while I am with two needy tiny humans. He's not exactly having fun all the time either I guess.

Why do we guilt ourselves for needing help? Why do I feel guilty for counting the hours and minutes until Jason comes home? Why do I feel guilty for needing a break? We shouldn't. I met a friend who has no qualms of saying, "I love my kids but..." She openly, without hesitation, without fear of being judged (because she doesn't care) says, "I love my kids but..." That "but" is filled with "I need me time and I'm not willing to give it up." I remind myself that kids or no kids, everyone needs a break from whatever it is that's demanding their attention; work, school, socializing. I'm never "off". Talon naps but even then I'm just waiting until the construction outside wakes him up and he cries after 20 minutes of being in his crib. I never in my life felt I needed a drink. These days, I get it. A glass of wine at the end of the day is appreciated. It doesn't always happen but when it does, ahhhh.

Today was tough and more sad than mad. Last Friday was mad. I did the stereotypical husband-comes-home-wife-hands-husband-toddler-and-says-get-out. Talon was in the kitchen rummaging through drawers, whining, hanging on me, I'm trying to fix dinner. I let it out when Jason came home. My fuse was down to the nub. My hands in the air, I said loudly (not yelling), "I admit I have very little patience as a mother right now. Get him out of here!" Talon hears my loud voice, starts crying and reaches for me from Jason's arms. My heart tears a little but not enough to take him.

Two year olds have no reasoning and their cognitive development is just beginning. Explaining to him while he's screaming from hunger that we're on our way to lunch doesn't do shit. What can you do? Block it out, turn up the radio, ignore him, give him a piece of fruit in the meantime. He'll eventually calm down and everyone will be happier when those fucking noodles arrive on the table. There's a language barrier as well. Sign language only helps so much. Talon doesn't have all the words he needs yet to communicate. I'll take a sassy kid over a irrational toddler any time. At least we can converse!

At this point in our lives, I certainly do more watching Talon than playing with him. Lincoln is completely dependent on me and Talon isn't completely independent. One of the things people love to say is, "Been there done that." I want to tell them to shut the fuck up. I hate hearing that and I hate hearing others say it to others. It ends up desensitizing the experience for the person talking. It takes a stance of what they're saying isn't important and whatever they're talking about is so passé. You can empathize with someone without taking away THEIR experience even if it is the same troubles with which every parent deals.

Well, it's 3:26pm. Lincoln just fell sounding asleep and now Talon is awake crying to get out of his crib. I got almost enough time to write this entire blog post. The wine is getting corked tonight!

You're fucking perfect.

You are fucking perfect. You both are. This is the hardest thing I've ever done. Two babies, 22 months apart, whoa. If one of you is sleeping, seems the other isn't. Jason goes back to work tomorrow. I was short with you and Talon today. I realized it is because I don't have gym time until August 23rd when you turn 3 months old. I'm worried that Talon will not want to go into the child center and it'll be rough on everyone. 

You've been having some tough days lately. A little out of sorts. Swaddle pisses you off. Being free pisses you off. Being on your back really pisses you off. Just a rough patch, I hope. 

You're so stinking cute. You had your first giggle fest around 7 weeks. I was laughing with you and crying because it was so beautiful at the same time.

Now there's 3...soon there will be 4....

I'm in the officially insanely fucked up phase of pregnancy. The biggest craptastic factor is sleeping sucks:

• I get up every 2 hours to pee (not joking).
• My hips hurt despite having a huge fluffy body pillow.
• I can only sleep two ways; on my left side or on my right side.
• I have substantially uncomfortable Braxton Hicks contractions throughout the entire night.
• I wake up tired.
• Sometimes I can't even get back to sleep after I pee and I start thinking about what I should make for dinner that night or what I should eat for breakfast because food really isn't all that exciting anymore...

I just feel weird. Tired, yes....duh. Out of body? Yes. Happy? Sure. Sad? Not really. Hungry? Ok sure I can eat. On the bright side, Tikki has begun to leave my stomach alone for the most part. I've finally conditioned her that stepping on my belly is a no-no I imagine by the swift sweeping of my arm that comes at her if she attempts.

I'm ready to have you. I'm so ready to hold you. I'm trying to not confuse my absolute fatigue with anxiety. I'm such a busy person normally that this sitting home thing sucks. On the flip side, it's all I have the energy for with Talon. At this point with Talon, we were waiting and hoping for some sign of labor at any minute. Little did we know he would not come on his own and at 41 weeks and 2 days was still sitting comfortably inside. I'm sure you are too, Darling, but at least we have an eviction date! 39 weeks and 1 day. I anticipate you being a little smaller than Talon because you're going to get taken earlier. Oh but what does it matter?? I'm so excited for you to be here. I'm so excited to be back in the baby bubble and absorbing the moments with greater depth.

One of the best pieces of advice I got this entire pregnancy was from Bonnie (imagine that!). I was expressing some frustration in a session and she explained I was trying to be too logical and that I'm living in a very sacrificial space right now. All of my energy is going to you, Talon, or Dads. She said she could see my energy flow and none of it, or very little of it, was getting to me. She said I can and do recharge a great deal when Dads is just here and around. It gives me a chance to "turn off" which I liked and agreed with. I can feel a difference when he's just here. Being rational, she said, isn't a priority. You can totally ask for him to just BE here. Crazy true.

T minus 9 days, Little One....I love you!

I just have to laugh.

What else can I do really? I'm 34 weeks pregnant, I am taking care of a 20 month old, I have a sinus head cold, my back hurts, it's fucking snowing AGAIN, and Talon pooped in the bath tub yesterday. He pulled two giant bath towels in the tub with him after I didn't respond to his immediate calls of an overboard toy and then this morning he stuck toilet paper in the toilet before putting it in his mouth (I screamed!). He's not a baby anymore. He's a toddler with a powerful mind of his own.

L-bag, your brother T-nuts is hilarious. And a hand full. I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm sure you will be too! Between the two of you, you rock my world.

During T's nap yesterday, I did get to spend some time alone with you! I was laying on my right side when I felt some tickling under my left side. Then it got higher and more under my ribcage. It must have been your little leg stretching with some wiggling toes on a little foot. Are you running out of room? You are the size of a butternut squash this week! (Better than a durian. Ew.)

We're getting SO close! Closer than we thought!

Please stop crying, Talon!

Every mother's stomach churns when she hears her baby cry. Lately Talon has been crying and whining and there seems to be no cure. Not hungry, not poopy. Tired? Perhaps. Bored? Maybe. I redirect him and he clings to me. I get him down for naps. He goes to bed at a decent hour. Sometimes. I. Just. Want. A. Break. No whining, especially no whining. I can't stand to hear it because I don't want him to be upset but there are moments when it sounds like nails on a chalkboard and I want the sound to go away. Talon was crying in his crib one afternoon, refusing to nap. I had put him down and he seemed ready. Not 8 minutes later, he's up wailing. I debated; do I go in there or do I leave him to work it out? I decided leaving him in there wasn't going to hurt him (especially a 20 month old) and would probably be better for me at the moment. I wasn't mad at him but my emotions were heightened. I knew if he didn't sleep he'd be a wreck later. A parenting moment of I know what's best for you: sleep. Now go the fuck to sleep. The only solution that made me feel better was turning up some music loud enough to drown out his cries, just for 5 minutes, then I went in to get him. The impact it makes on my insides seems to be exacerbated by pregnancy. Would I have this hard of a time if I wasn't full of hormones? Deal the best with it as I can whatever it may be. It's not going to get any easier. I'm not asking for a bailout. Two kiddos doubles the trouble. I'm grateful for both of you but I think I'll like it better when I have my brain and body back. Cheers, Darling. Mommy loves you dearly.

Stopped by Braxton Hicks

Tomorrow is your baby shower, Honeeeey! I am so excited to see our friends! Dena and Mel have organized it. Sounds like it'll be a blast!

Past couple days I have been feeling unusual. I am/was having a lot of Braxton Hicks contractions since Thursday night, maybe earlier than that I can't remember. By Friday night, it hadn't gotten any worse but I had visions of having a baby on the couch. (Yikes! I think I lingered in worry for a moment too long.) This morning, we went to breakfast then came home and I did a couple loads of laundry which translates really into I threw some things in the washer.  You're moving around a lot which is great to feel. I'm so glad you're active! I think we'll be fine until your C-section day; I just have to rest when I feel the need. I am grateful to my instructor friends at Life Time Fitness who stepped in to teach some classes I was supposed to teach this morning.

Being pregnant with your brother was different. I got to sleep whenever I wanted/needed, no busy body to run after, pick up, lift, wrangle with into a car seat. I was still training full-time which meant on my feet for longer hours in the day. This time is different. I can't rest as much as I would have before. On the positive side, I've been feeling good enough to keep teaching fitness classes. By 32 weeks with Talon, I was so done teaching. I was retaining so much fluid that my ankles had pitting edema and too much pressure was being put on the bones. It hurt to walk sometimes. They say every pregnancy is different. So true! I don't have the linea nigera this time, no pitting edema, and not as much weight gain. At this point, I've gained 26 pounds. I have 6 weeks to go so it's inevitable you'll be getting pumper which is fantastic! Grow, Baby, grow! I gained pretty much 50lbs with Talon. Soooo puffy! I'm thinking I'll keep it to under 35lbs this time.

Your bed is ready. I've rented the hospital grade pump. Your clothes are unpacked and your swaddling blankets are clean.

We can't wait to meet you Darling!!!

Warning: don't read this if you believe in G - -.

I'll always be honest and frank with you. Truth be told I almost copied and pasted a blog entry written by someone else something about 7 things we need to teach our daughters. My plan was to copy, paste, change all the pronouns to "he" and "him" but then I ran across it...the sentence and the sentences thereafter that killed it for me. I read further and all over it, all in it, was about how the daughters were special because they were made in the image of God.

Maybe I'm tired. Maybe I've had a long day and I'm grumpy but really I don't want to read how she doesn't need a boyfriend to prove her self-worth. Only God can determine her worth. The crazy irrational ranting lunatic (come on, we all have one...) in my head is screaming. REALLY? Cut the fucking CRAP! Let's leave it up GOD. Just another MAN to decide HER worth. That sounds completely reasonable because allllllll the stories in the bible make sense. Allllll of them are not hypocritical of each other and they never EVER tell you to discriminate.

God. BIG *sigh*. Zooklettes, Your dad and I don't believe in God. You can believe whatever you want. We'll give you the background and you decide for yourself. We definitely believe in higher power, the universe, and energy. It all works together to create our reality. We affect that reality. Some people call that God. I don't like to personify it. I've met too many narrow-minded, egotistical, bigoted Christians who consider themselves good people just because they "believe in God". Don't waste your time. Our country's system (holidays being one example) is based in Christianity. It'll continue to be wrapped up in Christianity because in this day and age we continue to have this ridiculous debate about marriage. Maybe when you're a young adult, it be a non-issue. Some people think gay people shouldn't be allowed to legally marry because it's a violation and married only belongs between a man and woman. We believe marriage belongs to anyone (key word: ANYONE) who wants to make a commitment to the person they love. Isn't THAT what marriage is about? A lot of shitty marriages out there between a man and a woman who don't have fucking clue about what it means to be married. Why isolate it?

I love this one: "God only gives you what you can handle." Bullshit. Why do people walk into movie theaters and elementary school and shoot people? Think they were given what they could handle? Probably not.

What it really boils down to is respect, embracing, and getting passed the ego. Most of the world operates off ego. I may not like referring to the higher power as God but in the end won't let my ego get in the way to tell someone else they're wrong or ridiculous for believing in Jesus or God. Just as I wouldn't appreciate someone telling me tha I'm ridiculous for not believing.

In my humble opinion, the more you start to read the bible more ridiculous it all sounds. Find your own truth. Find what works for you. I found what works for me.