desperado

The last week has been one that I'm sure I'll forget, but I really wish I wouldn't. Neil worked four overnight shifts in a row. As if that wasn't bad enough, there were a couple 4 am shifts mixed in. Yesterday was one of the 4 am days. When he got home, instead of spending the rest of the day together having fun, he had to work on homework for his class tonight for like six hours. He won't be home until 11:00 tonight. He is "off" tomorrow, but has a ton of homework to do, and then has school tomorrow night. And Wednesday. And then work, work, work, on and on and on. I don't know how he is doing it right now. I have developed a strong hatred for one of his professors in particular.

Even when Neil's home, he either has to sleep or study. I caught myself getting pissed off and resentful more than once. This week is not typical. It's not always quite as crazy as this. I'm trying to be supportive, and I think I am doing a better job than some would expect from someone like me. I just have to admit right now that it's hard. And in some ways, it's going to get worse before it gets better.

I am trying desperately to keep myself and Hayden busy without him. My adult interaction is really suffering now. I spend about 75% of my time alone with Hayden, about 10% working (by myself), about 10% at the gym, about 5% with Neil (or other adults), and about 5% working with co-workers. Okay - so that doesn't equal 100% - whatever.

It's a lonely life right now.

I Think I Want Another Baby After All

For a while, I wasn't sure if I would ever feel like going through it all again, (see Dilemma Two) but here I am. I don't want to do it immediately. Maybe at the end of the year - or if not then, in April or May. (We can't have a December due date - Neil can't take any time off in December. Besides - my birthday is in December and I don't want to subject my child to that injustice).

I know that the next pregnancy will be very different than the last one. With Hayden, we were so afraid of having a third miscarriage, I lived like a kept woman for nine months. I only worked twenty hours a week. We hired housekeepers for all the chores. I didn't lift anything (unless I was going to eat it). I didn't do any exercise of any kind (aside from the constant chewing, and the waddling around the block with Haley in my nine month, trying to bring on labor). I was fat, fat, fat, but I had a healthy baby, and I lost all the weight.

Still, I can't do some parts the same way, and I don't want to do the other parts the same way. First of all, the life of leisure is over. Okay, I still have the housekeepers, but there wasn't a two year old running wild the last time either. I still have to clean the house every day. Neil won't be around this time to cater to my every whim. I am going to have to be an independent pregnant woman this time. I am going to have to function in society, and parent a two or three year old at the same time.

Also, I can't imagine giving up my days at the gym. This time, I want to be an active pregnant woman. I want to keep up my routine, maybe jog instead of run, maybe decrease the weights. The bottom line: this time, I want to have a pregnant belly and a somewhat normal body. Oh, and big boobs for a while. If the exercise is dangerous to the baby in any way, I'll go without, but now that I know my body can endure a healthy pregnancy, I think I feel more confident that I can do it on my terms. I do miss the big, round, hard pregnant belly. I don't miss cellulite.

This time, I'll know going in that I have to have a C-Section. I won't have to endure seething pain for twenty hours only to go through an entirely different type of pain for three weeks after. I'll know that the sleepless nights only last a couple of months. I'll know it's supposed to hurt that bad when the baby latches on to your nipple.

Next time, I'll know how fast it goes by.

About a year ago, I tried taking Hayden to the daycare at the gym. The first time, he just kind of wandered around in that adorable 18-month-old kind of stupor, pretty much oblivious to what was going on. When I came back an hour later, the care giver said he had sort of hovered around the door, but he hadn't cried. I thought that meant things were A-OK. I was so wrong! Two days later, we went back. I had just gotten the treadmill up to speed when a gym employee came up to tell me my son was "pretty upset" (having a meltdown), and if I wanted him to "tough it out," (torment the poor care giver) they would "honor my wishes" (not kick me out, but would label me a horrible mother). I went back and found him hysterical, with every other kid in the place trying to console him. He just wasn't going for it. So, I started going to the gym early in the morning before Neil left for work. About three months later, I tried again. We didn't even get in the door when the hysteria began. It was surprising because Hayden is the kind of kid who prefers other people (namely grandparents and Aunt Keet) over his parents. He is definitely not a momma's boy or a daddy's boy - he's more of a "whoever I have more fun with" boy, or a "whoever is more likely to give me m&ms" boy. I gave it one last valiant effort, and even called ahead and warned the staff. Same result. So I kept getting up at 6:00 in the morning to work out for a whole year.

Now with Neil's new job, he leaves too early for me to go in the morning any more. I decided it was time to suck it up and try again. D-Day was last Wednesday. I explained to Hayden what was going to happen on the way over. He was going to play in the play room with the other kids, and I was going to work out in the exercise room, and then we would both leave together. He seemed pretty cool with the whole idea. So, we walked in. He was still okay. We made it back to the child care room. No freak outs. We walked in right behind another mom and her four year old daughter. The four year old started whining immediately. I braced myself. Hayden walked in, cruised over to a shelf full of toys and started playing. I was in shock. I signed him in, and told him I'd be back to get him. He was like, yeah whatever - there are toys in here, different toys.

For the first time ever, I had my Ipod turned off the whole time I worked out. If someone was going to come tapping on my shoulder, I wanted to be ready for it. I only did two sets of ten on all the machines instead of the usual two sets of fifteen, and I only ran a mile and a half instead of two and a half because I just didn't want to push my luck. 45 minutes later, I went back to the child care room and found Hayden playing - exactly like I left him. I told him it was time to go, and I had to practically drag him out the door. He wanted to stay.

We have gone two more times so far this week - with the same result. When I picked him up today, the care giver asked me how old Hayden was. I told her and she told me how well behaved he is, especially for being only 2 1/2. And he shares with the other kids. And he patiently waits his turn. And he has an impressive vocabulary. My well behaved, sharing, patient, turn-taking, verbal genius lets Mommy go to the gym at a leisurely 9:30 in the morning. I couldn't be more proud of him!

A few nights ago, my mom was talking to Hayden about having a little brother or sister someday. She asked him if he wanted Mommy and Daddy to have a little girl baby or a little boy baby. Hayden said he wanted a "regular baby."

Here is a picture of Hayden after his haircut yesterday.

You wouldn't like me when I'm angry...

He asked for green gel. I had no idea it would be that green!!!

Ten Years

Here are some pictures from our 10th anniversary party. It already seems so long ago!


me and my brother and sister (yes - he does have a mohawk)


me and neil (yes, he does have his hand on my ass)


all the girls that were in my wedding party


me, becky, nicole, and reid


me and nicole