Grin and bear it...maybe?

Last week was, well, less than stellar. The Mr. wasn't feeling so hot on Monday, and he only went downhill from there. Everyday was a higher fever and more time in bed. Any married woman knows when the Mr. is under the weather, you add the care of another child to your brood. It's just the truth. He was miserable.

Allow me to complain for a minute, but "single parenthood" is tough (God bless the parents who really do it). Taking care of the womb-child, W and hubs was incredibly exhausting. Add a dog who won't do her business for me and reflux that was burning a hole in my throat...those were just the icing on a really bad cake.

By the end of the week, I sheepishly admit I was resentful of the ill. Sick of sickness. Tired of being so tired. And just plain ornery. I was well over the opportunity I had to serve my family and instead was choosing to sulk about it.  I was due for an attitude adjustment. That's what my dad would have said. Growing up, I was often in need of such an adjustment. Old habits die hard, I suppose.

Cue Saturday night. Dave was really wanting to get out of the house for a change of scenery. Although his appetite still hadn't quite returned, we agreed to meet up for dinner with his parents and some friends. Very casual, thank goodness.

We hadn't been at the restaurant longer than 10 minutes when, out of nowhere, W got really upset. He was practically in tears -- sad tears -- and wanted me to hold him. What two-year-old wants to sit on his mother's lap with his head on her shoulder? I should have seen this barreling semi coming from a mile away.

W sat up, looked at me and...blaaaahhh! Hose down of puke. Everywhere. Right at me. In my hair. My ear. My face. Down my shirt. Pants. Soaked through. Everywhere. As bad as you can imagine times ten.

A crappy week I thought couldn't get worse. Wrong!

Returning to pukefest, I was kind of in shock. I didn't know what else to do other than walk right out the front door, get in the car and head home. So that's what I did, followed by a husband and friend using paper napkins in a futile attempt to wipe us down. It was pathetically gross.

As W and I made our way home, he grew quiet for a moment and I prayed (literally) that he wouldn't vomit in the car. Aside from the stench and mess, he was sitting right behind me. Surely, I didn't need to be hit from behind.

Somewhere between the highway on-ramp and home, the adjustment happened. As clear as day it occurred to me that things can always be worse. And I don't mean that in a negative or ungrateful way. Quite the opposite. In just about every situation in life, there could always be something worse, more terrible, more uncomfortable, etc.  Granted, the sickness-filled week wasn't the best, but D is slowly feeling better, W hasn't puked since yesterday, and the dog and I have made amends to our relationship.  Things could definitely be worse.

So, this week I'm going to try a little harder to see the silver lining, to appreciate the small things, and to wear a smile on the inside and out.  I'm not saying another venture in public won't be headlined by vomit, but at least I'll be able to sigh and know that it could be worse; he could have puked on the people in back of us.

Reminder

Yesterday I kept tripping over things.  Probably 6+ times throughout the day I found myself literally stumbling over trucks, books, shoes, rugs (that have been in the same spot for years), and thinking how in the world I missed that!  I was also bumping into the bathroom vanity, bookcase, etc.  I couldn't get a break, and I couldn't figure it out either.  I was dumbfounded.

I know my eyesight takes a turn for the worse when I'm pregnant, but surely not this much.

Then I remembered.  I looked down and saw this.  Oh yeah.

We're on the home stretch; that "time to get enormous" home stretch.  My feet are invisible.  I am endlessly out of breath.  My hips feel like they're being unhinged from my body.  And quite honestly, I am huge.  Pregnancy is beautiful, though, right?  

I admit I'm not a major proponent of the pregnant belly shot.  I stick with the only-for-documentation-purposes self portrait.  And in this shot particularly, my arm is as unappealing as a shot from the front could have been.  Whatever.   Yet the more this little girl kicks and gets excited, the more I feel like, "What the heck, this is worth it."  With a side of anxiety, too, of course.  

And the truth is, I am so thankful to be having another little one soon.  I'm reminded all too often how lucky I am to be a mom, to be pregnant, to have a healthy child and soon-to-be infant.  I'm reminded all too often of the many who have never and may never live these same experiences, despite their endless tries and deepest hopes.  And my heart sincerely hurts for them.  

Why am I a lucky one?  I don't know.  But I do know I shouldn't complain about the stretch marks, zero sleep (even before she gets here) and utter failure of my current wardrobe.  Instead, I am thankful.  It is a blessing to be running into furniture, tripping over toys and heaving myself out of bed each morning, for these are just reminders of how fortunate I am to be in the position I am.  

Beyond fortunate.  

Querido

Happy Valentine's Day to my loves:

A)

and B)

(pretty sure this isn't what I had in mind when I bought him underwear)

I love you!!!

Time out

Some of those parenting books suggest a time out be given to help correct poor behavior or calm a crazed child.  Typically, I have found, the suggested allotment of time is one minute per year old.

Yesterday morning, after a mind-blowing hour and 45 minutes of pure chaos, meltdowns, items thrown and my hand slammed shut in the dishwasher door, I put myself in a time out.  Mind you, he'd only been awake for about one hour and 46 minutes.  And no, I didn't commit any of the aforementioned actions.

I should  have been allotted about 27 minutes and 59 seconds.  Perhaps I got gipped.  However, the five or so minutes I shut myself in my bedroom (and listened to the little devil whom I love have at it) were just the thing I needed to correct my behavior -- I cried it out -- and calm my crazed nerves.  Poor parenting?  Well, perhaps that isn't what the parenting authors had in mind.  

Regardless, the timing couldn't be more perfect.  As of today, I get 28 minutes next time.

courtesy:  Time Out, 2005 (book cover photograph) copyright of Julie Blackmon, courtesy Radius Books 

The annual arrival of my favorite gift came just in time to remind me of my upcoming 28th milestone.  Said gift (anthropologie month-long discount) is a kind hint of my getting older -- something I've come to terms with and rather enjoy.  I am always impressed at the creativity and plain genius of this gift's design.  This year's theme revolves around the stars:  a pretty little navy blue envelope with white stars and the question, "What's in the stars for you, Aquarius?"

Well, aside for a 15% off trip to the store, I'm not totally sure what's in store for me.  A new baby.  A trip or two.  And my 10-year-reunion, did I mention that?  There are some specifics to look forward to.  But I'm excited about what's in store that perhaps I don't know or see coming, as well as the things I know are rightfully around the corner that I'll figure out as they come about.

Some of the things I've learned that will surely help me navigate whatever is in store for me:

1. A good friend's age doesn't matter.
2. Dijon mustard tastes great in just about everything.
3. Babies really do grow up fast.
4. I am turning into my mother.  In fact, all of those cliches are true.  And like my mother, I will never get rid of my pillow.  Please bury it with me.
5. Children innately know and learn by two words:  love and consistency.
6. You get what you pay for -- but you can always find a deal.
7. Always have a passport.
8. Just wing it.  Many times you'll be pleasantly surprised.
9. That includes trying new recipes.  If it turns out bad, you can blame it on the recipe.
10. Strong relationships take time...and phone calls and e-mails and genuine interest.
11. Looking at the rear-view mirror to see your child dancing never gets old.
12. Each marriage relationship is unique.  What works for one might not work for another.  But comparing one's marriage never works.
13. I feel thankful to have a husband who loves me, gets me, is a good man and is just funny.  
14. Yeast/dough will never rise when anxiety is present. 
15. I am a visual learner.  
16. I will never completely know what I am doing.
17. Even I can grow fresh herbs.
18. I will never buy a car with cloth seats.
19. TV is garbage 90% of the time.
20. A local restaurant is always more appealing.  
21. Being a good listener is a quality I will always be trying to improve.
22. Confidence breeds confidence.
23. Saturdays are sacred.  It's worth it to accomplish things throughout the week so we can just be together on the weekends.
24. Second-, third- and fourth-guess anything you post to Facebook.  
25. It's all in the details and presentation.  
26. I want my home to have that feeling where people want to come back.
27. I'll never be a perfect mother.  There isn't one.
28. Thankfully, family doesn't go away.

It's things like this

...that make my current condition manageable.

Accuracy

Looks amazing, huh?  Tasted pretty good, too.
Recipe here.

Ready or not

Yesterday was supposed to be the storm of the century.  Too bad we dodged a bullet by about 15 miles, so truly, the stocking up and preparation (including physical and mental provisions) were a bit in vain.  Regardless, W thoroughly enjoyed running around the house in his snow boots, just in case he needed them.