It's time to move on. I haven't had much time to put into this blog and don't really like where it's going, so I've decided to end it. In the beginning, it was a way for me to document my new mamahood, Tessa's milestones, and updates on my life. Instead it's become something entirely else, and I don't much like it. So I'm going to move on and try to get back to my original goal.
My life is a lot different now. I want to reflect that, and I want to write about the truly important, funny, striking, or exciting things that are happening to me. Not least importantly, the new blog is much more attractive ;)
So, goodbye blogspot, hello: http://ereiforget.wordpress.com/
I hope you read on, readers :)
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
mother's day
This time last year, my mom and I had mother's day brunch on the downtown mall, and as a big old pregnant lady, I got a ton of smiles and "happy mother's day"s from strangers. It was a great day, a great memory. I loved being pregnant, but nothing beats my first mother's day.
I don't need to write anything sappy or sentimental for this post. Needless to say, my first mother's day was wonderful; my baby girl started clapping for the first time and that was just the cherry on top.
Anyway, thought I would do a little flashback.
Here I was this time last year, and here we are now:
Inside, outside, together.
I don't need to write anything sappy or sentimental for this post. Needless to say, my first mother's day was wonderful; my baby girl started clapping for the first time and that was just the cherry on top.
Anyway, thought I would do a little flashback.
Here I was this time last year, and here we are now:
Inside, outside, together.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
T time
It's been a while since I've really done a Tessa update, and here I am with a few golden moments of no homework, no baby, and no laundry to fold.
She'll be 10 months in a week and this is such a fun time. She is getting really big, I weighed her last week and she's 22.5 lbs; really close to walking- holds one or both of my hands when she walks around the room. It's just the balance that she doesn't have yet, but she definitely has the strength and clearly is loving it.
Cut her third tooth yesterday. We had a nice break of a few months of no teething, but BAM all of a sudden I have a cranky teething baby on my hands. Right in time for the huge motrin/tylenol recall, both of which I had given her before I read about the recall.... great.
She is too excited and playful at daycare to nap. Her teachers say she loves playing with the other babies and stands in her crib and talks and waves to everybody. Probably only gets an hour max of sleep while she's there, so she's miserable by the time I get her usually which sucks a lot, but on the weekends she's sleeping fine. AND has been sleeping til close to 7 some days... I don't want to jinx myself but maybe it's my dream come true!
For as little time as I get to spend with her during the week, weekends are my magical time. When everything else in this world seems completely out of control, I hold that little girl and smell her sweet face and see her looking up at me with those big blue eyes and the love, the trust, well, all the pain and suffering and testing and struggling that come from bringing a baby into this world and becoming and being a mother are so, so worth it. I gave Tessa her bottle tonight and I rocked and sang to her as I usually do, and when I paused for a moment, she stopped sucking and her eyes popped open and she looked at me and with complete recognition that I had stopped singing, cooed at me as if asking me to sing again, and when I did, the little corners of her eyes crinkled up and she went back to drowsing with her bottle. It is little moments like this that I realize she is starting to blossom into a real little person, one with her own mind and her own motives; less and less a baby every day, but no less a part of me than she was the day I saw the line on the pregnancy test or felt her move within me.
She grows and gets bigger and smarter and stronger; she learns and recognizes and comprehends more than I can know; she changes faster than I can see; she is the same bean she was at birth but yet so different. One thing doesn't change-- that tessa bean is the light of my life.
She'll be 10 months in a week and this is such a fun time. She is getting really big, I weighed her last week and she's 22.5 lbs; really close to walking- holds one or both of my hands when she walks around the room. It's just the balance that she doesn't have yet, but she definitely has the strength and clearly is loving it.
Cut her third tooth yesterday. We had a nice break of a few months of no teething, but BAM all of a sudden I have a cranky teething baby on my hands. Right in time for the huge motrin/tylenol recall, both of which I had given her before I read about the recall.... great.
She is too excited and playful at daycare to nap. Her teachers say she loves playing with the other babies and stands in her crib and talks and waves to everybody. Probably only gets an hour max of sleep while she's there, so she's miserable by the time I get her usually which sucks a lot, but on the weekends she's sleeping fine. AND has been sleeping til close to 7 some days... I don't want to jinx myself but maybe it's my dream come true!
For as little time as I get to spend with her during the week, weekends are my magical time. When everything else in this world seems completely out of control, I hold that little girl and smell her sweet face and see her looking up at me with those big blue eyes and the love, the trust, well, all the pain and suffering and testing and struggling that come from bringing a baby into this world and becoming and being a mother are so, so worth it. I gave Tessa her bottle tonight and I rocked and sang to her as I usually do, and when I paused for a moment, she stopped sucking and her eyes popped open and she looked at me and with complete recognition that I had stopped singing, cooed at me as if asking me to sing again, and when I did, the little corners of her eyes crinkled up and she went back to drowsing with her bottle. It is little moments like this that I realize she is starting to blossom into a real little person, one with her own mind and her own motives; less and less a baby every day, but no less a part of me than she was the day I saw the line on the pregnancy test or felt her move within me.
She grows and gets bigger and smarter and stronger; she learns and recognizes and comprehends more than I can know; she changes faster than I can see; she is the same bean she was at birth but yet so different. One thing doesn't change-- that tessa bean is the light of my life.
Monday, April 26, 2010
AND
Oh my god, and did I forget to mention I got to change adult diapers and give bed baths on friday to geriatrics in a nursing facility? and it was awesome?? no, really.. i already change diapers all the time so no big deal, but it was my first clinical and it was sweet! We did general patient care and took vitals and got familiar with patient records; really cool.
And let's not forget my awesome white clogs that I have to wear ;)
And let's not forget my awesome white clogs that I have to wear ;)
status quo
This comes as a surprise...
Everything is OKAY. As in, my life doesn't feel fucked up and I don't have a million problems and am super stressed and/or depressed and feel like I can't do anything right and it is out of control...
It's been a while. Hello, copacetic, meet Kate.
And the funny thing?
Nothing has changed. I think maybe, just maybe... I've got the hang of this and have accepted that it's going to be tough but I feel totally empowered by this, all of this, in a weird feminist liberating way. And if you know me, you know I'm not some kind of huge feminist.
But I feel like: SHIT, check me out, I got the only 100 on a test in my class and am already doing well and wrote some bangin papers and am totally into school and still manage to take care of my baby girl and wear clean clothes (almost) every day and at the end of the day, I come home and feel.... Happy. And I feel like I can do anything. And that when I get through this program, I will be able to do anything.
Maybe it's me, maybe it's just how things are happening, whatever.. I feel good.
Everything is OKAY. As in, my life doesn't feel fucked up and I don't have a million problems and am super stressed and/or depressed and feel like I can't do anything right and it is out of control...
It's been a while. Hello, copacetic, meet Kate.
And the funny thing?
Nothing has changed. I think maybe, just maybe... I've got the hang of this and have accepted that it's going to be tough but I feel totally empowered by this, all of this, in a weird feminist liberating way. And if you know me, you know I'm not some kind of huge feminist.
But I feel like: SHIT, check me out, I got the only 100 on a test in my class and am already doing well and wrote some bangin papers and am totally into school and still manage to take care of my baby girl and wear clean clothes (almost) every day and at the end of the day, I come home and feel.... Happy. And I feel like I can do anything. And that when I get through this program, I will be able to do anything.
Maybe it's me, maybe it's just how things are happening, whatever.. I feel good.
Friday, April 9, 2010
these days
Have been a little (a lot) crazy.
School is great. My teachers are fabulous, the curriculum is wonderful, my classmates, well, let's just say it's like being in a room full of you's, only you with a different background. It's great. I feel right at home. We are thrown right into it- assessing health, making nursing diagnoses, vital signs, etc etc... It really, truly feels like I am finally doing the right thing for once; like what I am doing is Important. It feels like purpose. I feel the beginnings of passion, a twinge in the beginning, something that will blossom and something that will be my fire.
But don't let me go on too long being positive for once... god forbid.
This shit is HARD. Right now I am taking 21 credits in a span of 12 weeks. After that, each quarter is something like 21 to 23 credits. In a year, I will have earned nearly 90 credits!? That is, if I make it. Since we started, not a professor has failed to mention that we very well might not make it, and that many of us will drop out before second and third quarter even begin. It is intense. In college, I never took more than 15 credits in a semester, and that was a 3.5 month semester, and THAT was a lot of work. THIS, this, is really going to shake the earth beneath my feet. It is one of the hardest, most intense accelerated nursing program in the country. When people find out I have a 9 month old, they look at me like I am nuts. I feel like I am nuts. I really don't know how I'm going to do this except one day at a time. Some days are so fucking hard and I wake up at 5 and have to get myself and tessa ready and fed, diapers changed, bags packed, homework ready, and she screams because I'm rushing and I feel like the worst mother in the world because at the end of the day, I just want to put her to bed because she's miserable from daycare. And the fucked up thing? It's going to be like this for a year. A year of waking up at 5 (sometimes earlier on clinical days) rushing out, rushing home, feeding tessa, bathing her, putting her down, barely able to play with her before her bedtime, and in my spare time what do I do? Homework, tons of it, dishes, laundry, cleaning.. cleaning changing table, cleaning the kitchen, cleaning bottles, cleaning diapers, cleaning the crust out of the creases of the highchair, I feel like fucking cinderella sometimes... And try to go to bed by 9 so I can not fall asleep in class or at clinical the next day. No social life, no friends, no fun. But that's not what I'm bitching about here... I am sad to willfully neglect my child, to be putting something else before her, to spend more energy on something other than her. I am sad that sometimes, sometimes I would just rather do homework than struggle to feed, change, and bathe my daughter when she is a miserable wreck after a long, stimulating day. I am sad that I have to do everything myself.
My first clinical today was at a nursing home in PA. My instructor gave us our orientation, showed us around, told us what we would be doing there. And we all talked for quite a while, about nursing, its importance, and the ethics.. how you have to remember that the person you are dealing with is somebody's daughter, son, mother, father, brother, whatever... you have to have perspective. She told us a story of the relationship between patients, their families, and the nurses and doctors caring for them-- how when she was 29 weeks pregnant, they found out there was too much amniotic fluid and the baby's lung had collapsed. She had to have a c-section 11 weeks early. The baby, named Liz, had a valve in her heart that was too narrow and the muscle wall became too thick and her lungs were filled with fluid... The baby couldn't thrive, she couldn't gain weight but she couldn't lose the extra fluid in her lungs at the same time, she had blood transfusions, she was pumped with drugs, she had the flu, she had heart surgery, she had sepsis and was pounded with antibiotics most adults couldn't handle, and the doctors at CHOP, one of the best fucking children's hospitals in the world, just could not figure out what was wrong and why she wasn't thriving, and eventually, she died. All in three months. This tiny, innocent baby, tabula rasa, just never had a chance.
And god mother fucking damn it, if that was me, I wouldn't be on this earth anymore. I would not be able to go on living. And that woman got pregnant again and had two more babies and is extraordinarily successful as a Nurse Practitioner, a nurse manager, a teacher, a mother, a wife... That is strength. That is courage, and if she could get through that and still walk this earth, what I struggle with is like comparing allergies to cancer. The things that we take for granted in life-- so many of us don't even deserve.
I have so much love in my life, I am such a lucky person, and yet I struggle to find happiness and accept my life and its terms, and I struggle with being strong enough to be a single mom and do this program... where is my perspective? Where is my gratitude? Do any of us really know how good we have it? There is so much pain, so much spontaneous tragedy in this world. Every second of every day, we should remember this and be thankful for what we have, and where we are; and concern ourselves less with the trivial: how do I look, what kind of jeans am I wearing, what kind of haircut should I get, does that boy like me, will I miss my favorite tv show, i can't believe he didn't call me my life fucking sucks. Look at yourself, look at me, look at the rest of the world, and how much harder and more awful and painful your life could be.
I don't know how to wrap this up. I don't know if I should keep writing this blog, it's theme has been much too depressing, at a time when I'm finally realizing how to find and to make my own happiness, how to be grateful, and how to live in the moment. Life is what you make of it, and it can be a self fulfilling prophecy. hold every moment in your hands and try to imagine it's weight in gold, realize it's value.
School is great. My teachers are fabulous, the curriculum is wonderful, my classmates, well, let's just say it's like being in a room full of you's, only you with a different background. It's great. I feel right at home. We are thrown right into it- assessing health, making nursing diagnoses, vital signs, etc etc... It really, truly feels like I am finally doing the right thing for once; like what I am doing is Important. It feels like purpose. I feel the beginnings of passion, a twinge in the beginning, something that will blossom and something that will be my fire.
But don't let me go on too long being positive for once... god forbid.
This shit is HARD. Right now I am taking 21 credits in a span of 12 weeks. After that, each quarter is something like 21 to 23 credits. In a year, I will have earned nearly 90 credits!? That is, if I make it. Since we started, not a professor has failed to mention that we very well might not make it, and that many of us will drop out before second and third quarter even begin. It is intense. In college, I never took more than 15 credits in a semester, and that was a 3.5 month semester, and THAT was a lot of work. THIS, this, is really going to shake the earth beneath my feet. It is one of the hardest, most intense accelerated nursing program in the country. When people find out I have a 9 month old, they look at me like I am nuts. I feel like I am nuts. I really don't know how I'm going to do this except one day at a time. Some days are so fucking hard and I wake up at 5 and have to get myself and tessa ready and fed, diapers changed, bags packed, homework ready, and she screams because I'm rushing and I feel like the worst mother in the world because at the end of the day, I just want to put her to bed because she's miserable from daycare. And the fucked up thing? It's going to be like this for a year. A year of waking up at 5 (sometimes earlier on clinical days) rushing out, rushing home, feeding tessa, bathing her, putting her down, barely able to play with her before her bedtime, and in my spare time what do I do? Homework, tons of it, dishes, laundry, cleaning.. cleaning changing table, cleaning the kitchen, cleaning bottles, cleaning diapers, cleaning the crust out of the creases of the highchair, I feel like fucking cinderella sometimes... And try to go to bed by 9 so I can not fall asleep in class or at clinical the next day. No social life, no friends, no fun. But that's not what I'm bitching about here... I am sad to willfully neglect my child, to be putting something else before her, to spend more energy on something other than her. I am sad that sometimes, sometimes I would just rather do homework than struggle to feed, change, and bathe my daughter when she is a miserable wreck after a long, stimulating day. I am sad that I have to do everything myself.
My first clinical today was at a nursing home in PA. My instructor gave us our orientation, showed us around, told us what we would be doing there. And we all talked for quite a while, about nursing, its importance, and the ethics.. how you have to remember that the person you are dealing with is somebody's daughter, son, mother, father, brother, whatever... you have to have perspective. She told us a story of the relationship between patients, their families, and the nurses and doctors caring for them-- how when she was 29 weeks pregnant, they found out there was too much amniotic fluid and the baby's lung had collapsed. She had to have a c-section 11 weeks early. The baby, named Liz, had a valve in her heart that was too narrow and the muscle wall became too thick and her lungs were filled with fluid... The baby couldn't thrive, she couldn't gain weight but she couldn't lose the extra fluid in her lungs at the same time, she had blood transfusions, she was pumped with drugs, she had the flu, she had heart surgery, she had sepsis and was pounded with antibiotics most adults couldn't handle, and the doctors at CHOP, one of the best fucking children's hospitals in the world, just could not figure out what was wrong and why she wasn't thriving, and eventually, she died. All in three months. This tiny, innocent baby, tabula rasa, just never had a chance.
And god mother fucking damn it, if that was me, I wouldn't be on this earth anymore. I would not be able to go on living. And that woman got pregnant again and had two more babies and is extraordinarily successful as a Nurse Practitioner, a nurse manager, a teacher, a mother, a wife... That is strength. That is courage, and if she could get through that and still walk this earth, what I struggle with is like comparing allergies to cancer. The things that we take for granted in life-- so many of us don't even deserve.
I have so much love in my life, I am such a lucky person, and yet I struggle to find happiness and accept my life and its terms, and I struggle with being strong enough to be a single mom and do this program... where is my perspective? Where is my gratitude? Do any of us really know how good we have it? There is so much pain, so much spontaneous tragedy in this world. Every second of every day, we should remember this and be thankful for what we have, and where we are; and concern ourselves less with the trivial: how do I look, what kind of jeans am I wearing, what kind of haircut should I get, does that boy like me, will I miss my favorite tv show, i can't believe he didn't call me my life fucking sucks. Look at yourself, look at me, look at the rest of the world, and how much harder and more awful and painful your life could be.
I don't know how to wrap this up. I don't know if I should keep writing this blog, it's theme has been much too depressing, at a time when I'm finally realizing how to find and to make my own happiness, how to be grateful, and how to live in the moment. Life is what you make of it, and it can be a self fulfilling prophecy. hold every moment in your hands and try to imagine it's weight in gold, realize it's value.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
on the move!
I wrote this a few weeks ago and just noticed I never posted it:
So because my daughter is a genius and very advanced for her age and will probably graduate from Princeton when she's ten, it wasn't a surprise when she started sitting up at 5 months, scooting around shortly thereafter, and pulling herself up at 7 and a half months. She didn't crawl, but I figured she was just gearing up to start walking at a very early age, skipping the crawling altogether.
Well. Newsflash. Tessa tried crawling yesterday. She did it a couple times, put a few feet under her belt before packing up and heading to bed. This morning, she is crawling all over the place, and quick. Crawling anywhere she sees. It's like a whole new world of experiences has opened up for her. It's great! She crawls to the shelf and pulls the books off, crawls to the couch, pulls herself up, and pulls my files onto the floor, yanks my computer cord and pulls it out of the computer, crawls to the fireplace and pulls up on the sharp stone ledge, grabbing handfuls of wood and ash in the process. She crawls to the trash and pulls it over. The laundry bin. The stool. The printer.
Good lord. I was so enjoying sitting and playing with her. Now it's going to be chasing her while she plays. It means constant cleaning so she doesn't eat every little speck in sight, it means covering all sharp edges, it means never letting her out of my sight. I was so, so content with the stationary baby. But the stationary baby has little left to explore, and will eventually branch out. Such is life. Now, what ELSE this means is that the more she moves, the more tired out she'll get. I guess each stage has its challenges and its benefits.
Regardless, having a baby is so much fun, and the most wonderful fulfilling thing in the world. I love watching the excitement and wonder with which she sees everything. We could learn a lot of lessons from babies. Everything can be looked at in a new light, change is constant, life is exciting, meeting new people is a good thing, be content with what you have, smile all the time and other people will smile too... It is cheezy but it's true. This child has turned my life around. Her wonder is my wonder. When life is good, I have Tessa. When all else fails, I have Tessa.
So because my daughter is a genius and very advanced for her age and will probably graduate from Princeton when she's ten, it wasn't a surprise when she started sitting up at 5 months, scooting around shortly thereafter, and pulling herself up at 7 and a half months. She didn't crawl, but I figured she was just gearing up to start walking at a very early age, skipping the crawling altogether.
Well. Newsflash. Tessa tried crawling yesterday. She did it a couple times, put a few feet under her belt before packing up and heading to bed. This morning, she is crawling all over the place, and quick. Crawling anywhere she sees. It's like a whole new world of experiences has opened up for her. It's great! She crawls to the shelf and pulls the books off, crawls to the couch, pulls herself up, and pulls my files onto the floor, yanks my computer cord and pulls it out of the computer, crawls to the fireplace and pulls up on the sharp stone ledge, grabbing handfuls of wood and ash in the process. She crawls to the trash and pulls it over. The laundry bin. The stool. The printer.
Good lord. I was so enjoying sitting and playing with her. Now it's going to be chasing her while she plays. It means constant cleaning so she doesn't eat every little speck in sight, it means covering all sharp edges, it means never letting her out of my sight. I was so, so content with the stationary baby. But the stationary baby has little left to explore, and will eventually branch out. Such is life. Now, what ELSE this means is that the more she moves, the more tired out she'll get. I guess each stage has its challenges and its benefits.
Regardless, having a baby is so much fun, and the most wonderful fulfilling thing in the world. I love watching the excitement and wonder with which she sees everything. We could learn a lot of lessons from babies. Everything can be looked at in a new light, change is constant, life is exciting, meeting new people is a good thing, be content with what you have, smile all the time and other people will smile too... It is cheezy but it's true. This child has turned my life around. Her wonder is my wonder. When life is good, I have Tessa. When all else fails, I have Tessa.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
one day at a time
Today, unlike yesterday and the day before, was a good day. It will be like this. some days will be terrible and I will be miserable, and some days I will feel good and optimistic. I dropped T off at daycare, picked up my uniform (scrubs) from Philly, drove back, ate lunch, picked T up, and went into New Hope to meet another mama and baby. This mama in particular was someone I knew from high school, haven't seen since then, but I have to say how much of a relief it is to find another mom friend here in NJ. I finally had great mom friends in Charlottesville and had to leave them. It was something I would miss more than a lot of things. My old friendships are no less wonderful, but there is something significant and important about having friends with children. You need to be able to relate, to share, to complain, to ask advice, to commiserate. So today I got to do that, and it was really good.
School starts on monday. Right now, I feel like I can do this, and I'm okay, and I can be happy. Today Tessa was happy and we smiled and laughed together and she wasn't cranky all day and miserable. She reminded me today why we are where we are. Because we are going to have a better life. This is all a learning curve... I'm going to have to figure it out as I go along, and as with anything, I will get used to it and it will be my norm. Eventually it will feel like it has always been this way. And then things will be okay and we will have the life that was the goal, the end result. I have this baby, this sweet, smart, feisty baby who has my smile and who, like me, is hard to make laugh... We are a team. We're going to do this together. She is my heart and soul, my motivation, my reason. I feel very mama-bear right now. I'm going to do this, and we're going to be okay.
I found this today. It was good to hear someone who does and feels the same way I do. She left her husband when her baby was a few months old.
http://mssinglemama.com/2007/11/19/single-motherhood-turns-out-not-so-easy-but-not-so-tough-either/#comments
School starts on monday. Right now, I feel like I can do this, and I'm okay, and I can be happy. Today Tessa was happy and we smiled and laughed together and she wasn't cranky all day and miserable. She reminded me today why we are where we are. Because we are going to have a better life. This is all a learning curve... I'm going to have to figure it out as I go along, and as with anything, I will get used to it and it will be my norm. Eventually it will feel like it has always been this way. And then things will be okay and we will have the life that was the goal, the end result. I have this baby, this sweet, smart, feisty baby who has my smile and who, like me, is hard to make laugh... We are a team. We're going to do this together. She is my heart and soul, my motivation, my reason. I feel very mama-bear right now. I'm going to do this, and we're going to be okay.
I found this today. It was good to hear someone who does and feels the same way I do. She left her husband when her baby was a few months old.
http://mssinglemama.com/2007/11/19/single-motherhood-turns-out-not-so-easy-but-not-so-tough-either/#comments
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
deep breath
so I heard through the grapevine single parenting was tough.... tough doesn't even cut it.
there are days when I literally convince myself that I am completely incapable of doing this on my own. i don't know if it is a phase or teething or the constant cold (thanks to daycare) but Tessa hasn't allowed me to leave her side. I get absolutely NOTHING done. Nothing is about me anymore. Nothing. And that is not a complaint. But it makes me feel really small, and really insecure, and weak. I feel like I am a slave to my life. There is so little pleasure right now, outside of the joy my daughter brings me. This is the hardest thing I have ever done. When I have a free moment, I am doing laundry, dishes, making bottles, preparing baby food, taking care of school stuff, running to appointments, washing diapers. I can barely fit in showering and making myself food. I don't even have time to eat. Everything I do revolves around Tessa. Don't take this as resentment- it's not. It is just the way things are. And it is fucking hard.
If I can barely make it right now, how will I ever make it when school starts and I have ten+ hour days plus homework and reading? When in my spare time, I have to study, how will I do the rest? This is where not being single would make life so much easier. Fuck, fuck, this is going to be so hard.
I chose this. This was my decision. I left, I thought I would be happier and a better mom. Instead, I feel completely incapable, selfish, and like I am abandoning my daughter by starting one of the most intense, hardest, and rigorous nursing programs in the country. How can I do this? How will I get through this? My daughter is going to forget about me and I will become so much less important to her. I won't be there to teach her, to watch her first steps, to hear her first words.
But I am doing this for her. It's all for her. Everything, every step I take, is for her. For her to have the best life, the happiest life.
I am barely going to see my daughter for the next year, and it is ripping my heart out of my chest. I feel like the worst person in the world. I feel like I don't deserve her. I feel like I make the worst choices and like I am not strong enough or tough enough to get through this year. I am a wreck already, trying to get by as a single parent who gets to stay home with her daughter. Add to that this intense program. It is fucking killing me.
Single mother. Single mother. Single mother. It still hasn't sunk in. I cringe every time I see two parents with a baby. I can barely speak to friends of mine who have happy relationships and are parents together. That should have been me.
But do you stay with someone who makes you feel so terrible all the time, someone who doesn't want the same things as you, someone who wants to be in control all the time, who cares so much about appearance but not about truth, who says black only because I say white, who can't grow up, can't settle down, blames all the problems on everyone else, never takes responsibility, is too old to just be starting out, who hasn't changed a bit since becoming a parent, who finds their baby to be a novelty and not a real and serious responsibility? I could go on.
I made the decision, I am starting school, I am not going to see Tessa, I will have no social life, I will be miserable and stressed.
God damn it, no one told me life would be this fucking hard.
But this promise to myself- after this year, when I am done with school, I will see the benefits huge and everlasting, and I will make the life I want to live. I will be the person I want to be, I will be thankful that I made it through the hardest time in my life, I will be stronger and smarter and more capable.I will have a solid career for the rest of my life. I will be able to support myself and my daughter, ON MY OWN. That is huge. I will have the hang of single parenting. I will make the best of it. I will find happiness again, and I will be the best mother in the fucking world. And maybe, just maybe, someday I will find someone worthy to share my life with. For now that doesn't matter. But maybe someday. FInd my joy in Tessa, be grateful for the gift of motherhood, be thankful I have wonderful support. I promise these things to myself.
I will be okay. One year. One year.
there are days when I literally convince myself that I am completely incapable of doing this on my own. i don't know if it is a phase or teething or the constant cold (thanks to daycare) but Tessa hasn't allowed me to leave her side. I get absolutely NOTHING done. Nothing is about me anymore. Nothing. And that is not a complaint. But it makes me feel really small, and really insecure, and weak. I feel like I am a slave to my life. There is so little pleasure right now, outside of the joy my daughter brings me. This is the hardest thing I have ever done. When I have a free moment, I am doing laundry, dishes, making bottles, preparing baby food, taking care of school stuff, running to appointments, washing diapers. I can barely fit in showering and making myself food. I don't even have time to eat. Everything I do revolves around Tessa. Don't take this as resentment- it's not. It is just the way things are. And it is fucking hard.
If I can barely make it right now, how will I ever make it when school starts and I have ten+ hour days plus homework and reading? When in my spare time, I have to study, how will I do the rest? This is where not being single would make life so much easier. Fuck, fuck, this is going to be so hard.
I chose this. This was my decision. I left, I thought I would be happier and a better mom. Instead, I feel completely incapable, selfish, and like I am abandoning my daughter by starting one of the most intense, hardest, and rigorous nursing programs in the country. How can I do this? How will I get through this? My daughter is going to forget about me and I will become so much less important to her. I won't be there to teach her, to watch her first steps, to hear her first words.
But I am doing this for her. It's all for her. Everything, every step I take, is for her. For her to have the best life, the happiest life.
I am barely going to see my daughter for the next year, and it is ripping my heart out of my chest. I feel like the worst person in the world. I feel like I don't deserve her. I feel like I make the worst choices and like I am not strong enough or tough enough to get through this year. I am a wreck already, trying to get by as a single parent who gets to stay home with her daughter. Add to that this intense program. It is fucking killing me.
Single mother. Single mother. Single mother. It still hasn't sunk in. I cringe every time I see two parents with a baby. I can barely speak to friends of mine who have happy relationships and are parents together. That should have been me.
But do you stay with someone who makes you feel so terrible all the time, someone who doesn't want the same things as you, someone who wants to be in control all the time, who cares so much about appearance but not about truth, who says black only because I say white, who can't grow up, can't settle down, blames all the problems on everyone else, never takes responsibility, is too old to just be starting out, who hasn't changed a bit since becoming a parent, who finds their baby to be a novelty and not a real and serious responsibility? I could go on.
I made the decision, I am starting school, I am not going to see Tessa, I will have no social life, I will be miserable and stressed.
God damn it, no one told me life would be this fucking hard.
But this promise to myself- after this year, when I am done with school, I will see the benefits huge and everlasting, and I will make the life I want to live. I will be the person I want to be, I will be thankful that I made it through the hardest time in my life, I will be stronger and smarter and more capable.I will have a solid career for the rest of my life. I will be able to support myself and my daughter, ON MY OWN. That is huge. I will have the hang of single parenting. I will make the best of it. I will find happiness again, and I will be the best mother in the fucking world. And maybe, just maybe, someday I will find someone worthy to share my life with. For now that doesn't matter. But maybe someday. FInd my joy in Tessa, be grateful for the gift of motherhood, be thankful I have wonderful support. I promise these things to myself.
I will be okay. One year. One year.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
yoga babies
By the way, before I left, my mom and my beautiful friend Natalie threw me a going away party. It was wonderful, of course. But I think the highlight for me was this moment:
These ladies and I were in prenatal yoga together. Jen, far right, was our instructor. It was how natalie and I became close, and how I met amelia and jen, who ended up being my birth coach.
I love my friends to death, all of them, but it has been really special going through pregnancy and childbirth and early motherhood with friends who know exactly how you feel.
However, I am a really lucky gal for having such lovely, wonderful friends in general.
These ladies and I were in prenatal yoga together. Jen, far right, was our instructor. It was how natalie and I became close, and how I met amelia and jen, who ended up being my birth coach.
I love my friends to death, all of them, but it has been really special going through pregnancy and childbirth and early motherhood with friends who know exactly how you feel.
However, I am a really lucky gal for having such lovely, wonderful friends in general.
moving on.
Here I am back in Virginia.
I moved on Friday. And spent the weekend on the verge of a panic attack, biting back tears every second. I looked at the disaster that is the product of a move, all the boxes waiting to be unpacked, and cried. I thought of virginia and cried. my pup, my mom, my friends. my ruined relationship, broken family. i thought of tessa starting daycare and cried.
And I woke up this morning and couldn't think, couldn't put one foot in front of the other. I could barely move. I just wanted to collapse and sleep forever.
This hasn't happened to me in a long, long time. I found such happiness in my life in Charlottesville. Such joy in being a mother, in having a bright beam of light that is my baby girl.
And i moved, and I felt my strong foundation start to crumble around me. So I came back here, because I just couldn't do it. I had to be here one last time until I can visit again. Have to see the doctor and maybe go on some drugs because I don't know if I can do this on my own.
I, officially, am a single mother. I think that is the first time I've officially told myself that, admitted it to myself.
And sometimes I really don't know if I can do this. I mean, I know I can, I will, I have to, because my daughter is the most important goddamned thing in the entire world and deserves the absolute best life-- she gave me light, she gave me happiness, she made me stronger and smarter, she made me a woman. It is going to be hard. Really hard.
But damn it, my life could be so much fucking worse. I have so much to be grateful for. I will not be sorry for myself.
I know I need to stop writing about how hard, how sad, bla bla bla. I guess though this blog is really for me, so I can remember what I went through at what time, and look back and see how I've changed, and how Tessa has changed. So sorry, readers, if you are bored or fed up. But really, this is for me. I need to put this down into words so I can remember, and remind myself to hold it together. To really do the best I can.
I moved on Friday. And spent the weekend on the verge of a panic attack, biting back tears every second. I looked at the disaster that is the product of a move, all the boxes waiting to be unpacked, and cried. I thought of virginia and cried. my pup, my mom, my friends. my ruined relationship, broken family. i thought of tessa starting daycare and cried.
And I woke up this morning and couldn't think, couldn't put one foot in front of the other. I could barely move. I just wanted to collapse and sleep forever.
This hasn't happened to me in a long, long time. I found such happiness in my life in Charlottesville. Such joy in being a mother, in having a bright beam of light that is my baby girl.
And i moved, and I felt my strong foundation start to crumble around me. So I came back here, because I just couldn't do it. I had to be here one last time until I can visit again. Have to see the doctor and maybe go on some drugs because I don't know if I can do this on my own.
I, officially, am a single mother. I think that is the first time I've officially told myself that, admitted it to myself.
And sometimes I really don't know if I can do this. I mean, I know I can, I will, I have to, because my daughter is the most important goddamned thing in the entire world and deserves the absolute best life-- she gave me light, she gave me happiness, she made me stronger and smarter, she made me a woman. It is going to be hard. Really hard.
But damn it, my life could be so much fucking worse. I have so much to be grateful for. I will not be sorry for myself.
I know I need to stop writing about how hard, how sad, bla bla bla. I guess though this blog is really for me, so I can remember what I went through at what time, and look back and see how I've changed, and how Tessa has changed. So sorry, readers, if you are bored or fed up. But really, this is for me. I need to put this down into words so I can remember, and remind myself to hold it together. To really do the best I can.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Lock It Up
I left Tessa on the floor the other day with some toys and went into the other room to put a few items of clothes away. I was literally gone one minute. When I walked back in the living room, she was all the way across the room, pulling my phone charger out of the power strip. SCARY. Had she gotten the end of the cord in her mouth...
Needless to say, it's time to start babyproofing.
I'll have a fresh start when we move, so I plan on babyproofing from the beginning. So in looking for a baby gate on Amazon, I came across Babyproofing products.
Am I such an idiotic bad parent that I didn't realize I had to lock my TOILET?
Anything in your house you want to lock, you've got it.
Lock up your fridge. Your cabinets. Your drawers. Pad the corners of the tables, line all sharp edges with foam...
Doorknob covers (???), Hearth protectors, electric cord shorteners, outlet plugs, window guards, pole padding, flatscreen TV wall locks, stove knob covers, clear banister sheilds, stove knob covers, blind cord securing thingies, PLANT PROTECTOR NETS to keep your child from digging and eating dirt from potted plants, washer/dryer knob locks (so they don't accidentally lock themselves in the dryer and then turn it on), window lock LOCKS, mom and me safety bracelets (like handcuffs that you and your child wear so they can't wander more than 3 feet. great idea.), oh my god, the list is endless and the more i look, the more I feel like a completely incapable and careless mother.
I guess it's time to get to work.. by the time I've purchased afore-mentioned products, I'll be bankrupt.
Needless to say, it's time to start babyproofing.
I'll have a fresh start when we move, so I plan on babyproofing from the beginning. So in looking for a baby gate on Amazon, I came across Babyproofing products.
Am I such an idiotic bad parent that I didn't realize I had to lock my TOILET?
Anything in your house you want to lock, you've got it.
Lock up your fridge. Your cabinets. Your drawers. Pad the corners of the tables, line all sharp edges with foam...
Doorknob covers (???), Hearth protectors, electric cord shorteners, outlet plugs, window guards, pole padding, flatscreen TV wall locks, stove knob covers, clear banister sheilds, stove knob covers, blind cord securing thingies, PLANT PROTECTOR NETS to keep your child from digging and eating dirt from potted plants, washer/dryer knob locks (so they don't accidentally lock themselves in the dryer and then turn it on), window lock LOCKS, mom and me safety bracelets (like handcuffs that you and your child wear so they can't wander more than 3 feet. great idea.), oh my god, the list is endless and the more i look, the more I feel like a completely incapable and careless mother.
I guess it's time to get to work.. by the time I've purchased afore-mentioned products, I'll be bankrupt.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Toot
So Natalie and I did a yoga class the other day. It was wayy too crowded, probably 50 people neck to neck, and for some reason EVERYONE was farting. I mean, it was ridiculous. Especially when the girl next to me- and by next to me I mean basically sitting on top me of- started farting. One after the other. I had such a hard time not turning to stare at her. It took all of my self control not to.
Does anyone else have imaginary dialogue with people they see or meet?
"Excuse me, you just farted."
"Why, yes, I did. I just now realize that as I bring both of my legs from out behind my head."
"Oh, well you farted again as you came out of your pose."
"You are quite right. You must be very intelligent."
"That is true. May I ask what you had for breakfast?"
"You may."
"What did you have for breakfast?"
"Dead things."
Ah, that explains it, as we come into child's pose and the room lets out a cacophony of toots.
Does anyone else have imaginary dialogue with people they see or meet?
"Excuse me, you just farted."
"Why, yes, I did. I just now realize that as I bring both of my legs from out behind my head."
"Oh, well you farted again as you came out of your pose."
"You are quite right. You must be very intelligent."
"That is true. May I ask what you had for breakfast?"
"You may."
"What did you have for breakfast?"
"Dead things."
Ah, that explains it, as we come into child's pose and the room lets out a cacophony of toots.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
I Wanted
To look back on my pregnancy as a joyful, happy, exciting time. And it was for me, because I was doing the most amazing thing in the world, and I loved it, I felt special and important and natural.
But I was let down. I wanted for us to look at eachother in wonder and amazement when the baby kicked, I wanted to celebrate 20 weeks and then the beginning of the third trimester. I wanted back rubs and foot rubs, I wanted to go on walks and hold hands and talk about our upcoming life with baby. I wanted us to plan the nursery together and have long talks about names and how we would raise her. I wanted us to cuddle up together in the winter and keep eachother warm, and to relax in the sun together in the summer; to picnic and laugh and be excited about life. I wanted, each week, to read together what was happing inside me, how big she was, what development was happening.
But I was alone. He shut down and wanted nothing to do with it. So I dreamt alone, I celebrated within, I lay holding my belly, feeling her kick, and smiled to myself. I fantasized about what she would look like, act like, smell like. I spent hours alone in the house washing and folding and refolding her tiny clothes, organizing her nursery, preparing for her arrival. I went to yoga each week to get away from him and be around other women who were pregnant too, and at least partially understood. Pregnancy can be isolating, and he made it so much more so.
And I had her, and we didn't look in eachother's teary eyes in amazement at what WE did. We looked at eachother, but it wasn't there. But I looked at her with joy and amazement, and she made me. She began me- who I am now, who I've always meant to be.
He went back to work, and I took care of her. I read the books, did the research, made the choices. I created her nap schedule, her feedings, took her to her doctor's appointments, watched her development. He waited to be told what was going on. He followed, or agreed from a distance.
He was never there, in body or mind. He was never a part of it all. He let it happen from a distance, and reaped the benefits.
I wanted a family who rejoiced in the tiny wonders, who grew old together, who made more children, built a house in which they would grow up, went on vacations together, marveled at their love for one another and their amazing children.
But you can't, you don't, always get what you want. You rarely have happily ever after, and you certainly can't let someone else make your happiness. But you can make it yourself, and you can find it within.
But I was let down. I wanted for us to look at eachother in wonder and amazement when the baby kicked, I wanted to celebrate 20 weeks and then the beginning of the third trimester. I wanted back rubs and foot rubs, I wanted to go on walks and hold hands and talk about our upcoming life with baby. I wanted us to plan the nursery together and have long talks about names and how we would raise her. I wanted us to cuddle up together in the winter and keep eachother warm, and to relax in the sun together in the summer; to picnic and laugh and be excited about life. I wanted, each week, to read together what was happing inside me, how big she was, what development was happening.
But I was alone. He shut down and wanted nothing to do with it. So I dreamt alone, I celebrated within, I lay holding my belly, feeling her kick, and smiled to myself. I fantasized about what she would look like, act like, smell like. I spent hours alone in the house washing and folding and refolding her tiny clothes, organizing her nursery, preparing for her arrival. I went to yoga each week to get away from him and be around other women who were pregnant too, and at least partially understood. Pregnancy can be isolating, and he made it so much more so.
And I had her, and we didn't look in eachother's teary eyes in amazement at what WE did. We looked at eachother, but it wasn't there. But I looked at her with joy and amazement, and she made me. She began me- who I am now, who I've always meant to be.
He went back to work, and I took care of her. I read the books, did the research, made the choices. I created her nap schedule, her feedings, took her to her doctor's appointments, watched her development. He waited to be told what was going on. He followed, or agreed from a distance.
He was never there, in body or mind. He was never a part of it all. He let it happen from a distance, and reaped the benefits.
I wanted a family who rejoiced in the tiny wonders, who grew old together, who made more children, built a house in which they would grow up, went on vacations together, marveled at their love for one another and their amazing children.
But you can't, you don't, always get what you want. You rarely have happily ever after, and you certainly can't let someone else make your happiness. But you can make it yourself, and you can find it within.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
It's Satuday, I'm at my mom's, and it has been snowing for the last 31 hours, give or take. I've been here since Wednesday night, and it doesn't look like I'm leaving anytime soon.. Circumstances, ever changing, have brought me here, and here it looks like I'll stay, at least until I leave for NJ. This is okay. This is not a big surprise to me, nor is it too painful for me; it would have been both a year ago, but today, I am so different, and my life is so different, so much has changed, that now I am more excited, hopeful, anticipating, than anything else. Scared, of course. Anxious, slightly. But let me be honest with myself, for once, finally. This was bound to happen. I was bound to end up breaking up with Alessandro.
It was just never right.
We were never right. I think the beginning was fine because he liked the idea of me, and I liked the idea of him, and we thought together we were ideal, but there was no way we were going to last. And the good little liar I am, I lied, lied, lied to myself about him and who he is and how he treats me and why. And I got pregnant, and it got worse, and I almost left and didn't, it got better, then worse, and worse, and I started to see things the way they were. I started to LET myself see things, and I stopped lying to myself, and my tolerance level just fell through the floor.
I feel stupid. I really do. Why have I, for so long, been okay with everything, and made excuses, and lied to myself? Enough.
What's the point? I am not going to sit around and feel sorry for myself and wish that I had been different, because I did what I had to do, or thought I had to do, to get through things. And I'm through it now, and I'm moving on. I'm done with him. I'm done letting him trample every last bit of me to the floor, and smother me into indifference. Trying to make me into something else. Trying to shape me to his mold. Resenting every move I make, criticizing every choice, making me feel stupid, insecure, unsure, ugly. I am just done.
This is about me, and Tessa; wanting a nice life, fewer worries, being able to raise my daughter without two parents who hate eachother.
But enough about that.
It's snowing, and I have a great family and great friends, a beautiful baby and a wonderful pup.
It was just never right.
We were never right. I think the beginning was fine because he liked the idea of me, and I liked the idea of him, and we thought together we were ideal, but there was no way we were going to last. And the good little liar I am, I lied, lied, lied to myself about him and who he is and how he treats me and why. And I got pregnant, and it got worse, and I almost left and didn't, it got better, then worse, and worse, and I started to see things the way they were. I started to LET myself see things, and I stopped lying to myself, and my tolerance level just fell through the floor.
I feel stupid. I really do. Why have I, for so long, been okay with everything, and made excuses, and lied to myself? Enough.
What's the point? I am not going to sit around and feel sorry for myself and wish that I had been different, because I did what I had to do, or thought I had to do, to get through things. And I'm through it now, and I'm moving on. I'm done with him. I'm done letting him trample every last bit of me to the floor, and smother me into indifference. Trying to make me into something else. Trying to shape me to his mold. Resenting every move I make, criticizing every choice, making me feel stupid, insecure, unsure, ugly. I am just done.
This is about me, and Tessa; wanting a nice life, fewer worries, being able to raise my daughter without two parents who hate eachother.
But enough about that.
It's snowing, and I have a great family and great friends, a beautiful baby and a wonderful pup.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
now
I moved to Charlottesville in fall of 2006, a really hard time for me, and since then I have only made (on my own, not including alessandro's friends) a handful of my own friends. And out of that handful I would only call a couple of them my close friends. And now I'm moving again, back to NJ where I went to high school but where none of my friends live anymore. And starting school at Drexel in Philly where again, not many of my friends are anymore. You'd think 2 places I'd live before would be comforting to me, but in a way, they are both new places to me because it's been so long since I've lived there.
It's really hard for me going from a place where I am finally comfortable and finally have friends and a nice life and a social life and people I can rely on to a place where I'm going to have to start over and make new friends or not.
I don't know if my point is coming across. I'm scared that I'm not going to make any friends in Philly or NJ and that I'm never going to have anything to do- more importantly, I'm going to be alone. It's just going to be me and Tessa, and though I love her to pieces, I'm afraid I'm going to be lonely. Now, no one likes being lonely, but it is one of the things in my life that really has had the ability to make me a miserable, depressed person. Who knows, maybe being occupied with Tessa will keep me from being lonely, but adult company and the company of your baby are not the same thing. I guess I just worry that I'll feel isolated and restricted and that in turn I'll become anxious and depressed.
Maybe I'm just overthinking the whole thing.
And I know I will have my dad and kim, but really, I am intruding enough on them by living there for a year when they are FINALLY empty-nesters, I definitely don't want to be up their asses all the time. I'm really going to try to stay out of their way for the most part because they definitely don't need to have their time and space intruded upon any more than I already am. They are doing more than enough for me.
I hope I don't sound like I'm complaining. I am so excited for this stage in my life- nervous to be away from Tessa and sad, but so excited. This is going to bring about such great opportunities and freedom for me. It is going to be the best thing that I have done in my life aside from having Tessa. I know it will be great. I just don't want to fuck it up by being that miserable person that I've had glimpses of in myself.
You know, I think about Morgan Harrington, and I think about Haiti, and I really should be more fucking grateful than I seem. I have such a wonderfu family that I hardly deserve, friends that love me, a roof over my head, the ability to go to school and start over and make a living and raise my child comfortably and happily. I will someday be able to send her to college. I have choices in my life that many don't. I have luxuries. I can stand in a hot shower for 30 minutes if I want. I can go to the gym. I can play with Charlie in the front yard. I get netflix. I have internet. So many small things that are so huge for so many other people. People that only dream of having a life like mine.
And I worry about being lonely for a year.
It's really hard for me going from a place where I am finally comfortable and finally have friends and a nice life and a social life and people I can rely on to a place where I'm going to have to start over and make new friends or not.
I don't know if my point is coming across. I'm scared that I'm not going to make any friends in Philly or NJ and that I'm never going to have anything to do- more importantly, I'm going to be alone. It's just going to be me and Tessa, and though I love her to pieces, I'm afraid I'm going to be lonely. Now, no one likes being lonely, but it is one of the things in my life that really has had the ability to make me a miserable, depressed person. Who knows, maybe being occupied with Tessa will keep me from being lonely, but adult company and the company of your baby are not the same thing. I guess I just worry that I'll feel isolated and restricted and that in turn I'll become anxious and depressed.
Maybe I'm just overthinking the whole thing.
And I know I will have my dad and kim, but really, I am intruding enough on them by living there for a year when they are FINALLY empty-nesters, I definitely don't want to be up their asses all the time. I'm really going to try to stay out of their way for the most part because they definitely don't need to have their time and space intruded upon any more than I already am. They are doing more than enough for me.
I hope I don't sound like I'm complaining. I am so excited for this stage in my life- nervous to be away from Tessa and sad, but so excited. This is going to bring about such great opportunities and freedom for me. It is going to be the best thing that I have done in my life aside from having Tessa. I know it will be great. I just don't want to fuck it up by being that miserable person that I've had glimpses of in myself.
You know, I think about Morgan Harrington, and I think about Haiti, and I really should be more fucking grateful than I seem. I have such a wonderfu family that I hardly deserve, friends that love me, a roof over my head, the ability to go to school and start over and make a living and raise my child comfortably and happily. I will someday be able to send her to college. I have choices in my life that many don't. I have luxuries. I can stand in a hot shower for 30 minutes if I want. I can go to the gym. I can play with Charlie in the front yard. I get netflix. I have internet. So many small things that are so huge for so many other people. People that only dream of having a life like mine.
And I worry about being lonely for a year.
Monday, January 11, 2010
quickest 6 months of my life
So Tessabell is 6 months as of yesterday. SO much has been happening- in the past two weeks she's started sitting up on her own, gotten 2 teeth, started eating solids regularly, started really laughing, and (FINALLY) started sleeping through the night.
This is, by far, the most fun since she's been born.
She sits and plays with her box of toys- endless fun- I fill up her shoebox with toys and she methodically empties it, at which point I refill it and the fun begins again. Her other favorite thing to do is play with CharlesPup. She had a huge laugh the other day when she tugged his ear and he YELPED like someone was beating him. HAHAH poor charles. Kind of like the time she laughed at me for shrieking about her messy poop. Am I raising a little devil??
On another note, I just wanted to mention that this year I share my new year's resolution with the rest of the world- get in shape.
Alessandro got me an ACAC membership for xmas so I am very excited to get this saggy ass back in shape. I'm not going to lie- I lost all the baby weight in the first 6 weeks but there is a LOT that needs fixin'. Numbers may be the same but the shape is NOT the same. So I'm working to fix that, especially because when I start Nursing school (March 29) I will definitely need the energy and endurance for long days of school and clinicals.
I am home every day with Tessa, so what better thing to do than work out? I bought the monthly daycare package there so I can drop her off when I go, and Natalie and I have been going together so Tessa and Remy can play together in Kidzone.
Anyway, I would rather work out than fold laundry. Or do dishes. Or clean. Or anything related to housework.
Every day. That's my goal. And since I'm posting it here for the world to see, I have to stick to my word.
Wish me luck.
This is, by far, the most fun since she's been born.
She sits and plays with her box of toys- endless fun- I fill up her shoebox with toys and she methodically empties it, at which point I refill it and the fun begins again. Her other favorite thing to do is play with CharlesPup. She had a huge laugh the other day when she tugged his ear and he YELPED like someone was beating him. HAHAH poor charles. Kind of like the time she laughed at me for shrieking about her messy poop. Am I raising a little devil??
On another note, I just wanted to mention that this year I share my new year's resolution with the rest of the world- get in shape.
Alessandro got me an ACAC membership for xmas so I am very excited to get this saggy ass back in shape. I'm not going to lie- I lost all the baby weight in the first 6 weeks but there is a LOT that needs fixin'. Numbers may be the same but the shape is NOT the same. So I'm working to fix that, especially because when I start Nursing school (March 29) I will definitely need the energy and endurance for long days of school and clinicals.
I am home every day with Tessa, so what better thing to do than work out? I bought the monthly daycare package there so I can drop her off when I go, and Natalie and I have been going together so Tessa and Remy can play together in Kidzone.
Anyway, I would rather work out than fold laundry. Or do dishes. Or clean. Or anything related to housework.
Every day. That's my goal. And since I'm posting it here for the world to see, I have to stick to my word.
Wish me luck.
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