Mommy Monster

Like every parent, I want the best for my child. Sometimes this translates to being the bad guy, which comes as no surprise to anyone. We've all been at the receiving end of one of our parents' withering looks, it's just a part of life, right?

It's our job as parents to make sure these little people turn into healthy adults who are capable of making good decisions one day. What nobody tells you is how difficult and heart breaking it can be, and how the guilt from yelling at your beautiful little boy can keep you from falling asleep at night.

We have allowed Small Human to fall into some bad sleeping habits lately because I've been desperate and tired, and getting hugely pregnant and lazy with each passing day. It can't continue though, especially not with a new baby arriving in just five weeks, so last night I decided to nip it in the bud. No more falling asleep on the couch or the floor of the hallway, he has to sleep in his bed like a big boy.

I'm not entirely sure it was the right decision to physically wrestle him into his bed last night; I'm definitely unsure about yelling at him not to get out of his bed and leave the room for the third time that night; I have no idea if angrily threatening to pull him out of preschool while his face crumpled up was the right card to play; All I know is that he finally chose to stop crying and fell asleep in his own bed for the first time in weeks, and yet it only feels like a partial victory. Did I make these choices because I'm over exhausted? Was I acting out of anger? Was I being irrational and emotional? Did I really do that for his good?

There is nothing anyone can say to make me feel like I'm not a terrible monster of a mother, and I know many of you can understand that. Not every day as a parent can be a beautiful, happy Instagram picture. I hate making my baby cry. I hate hurting him, or making him feel like I've somehow betrayed him. He's supposed to be able to trust me, and I'm supposed to serve as his refuge, especially in these early years, the only years I get where he is still just mine. Tough love they call it, you don't want your kid to turn into a spoiled brat, they say, only why do I feel like I've failed at my job?

It's 1:30am and I'm exhausted and still demoralized hours later. People keep telling me it will get better. I just hope he knows that mommy still loves him more than anything when he wakes up, and I hope he still trusts me in the morning.

Broken Momie

I had a truly traumatizing Wednesday evening that led to an almost equally difficult Thursday. My Wednesday started off well with an easy summer camp drop off, luxurious walk through the neighborhood, manicure, and lunch from the bakery. The problems really began after nap was done. Small Human had been full of tantrums as soon as I picked him up from camp (which he never wants to leave), and unfortunately continued post nap.

He was driving me crazy and when I have a tough time my go-to comfort food is always a Big Mac with extra sauce. Since my OB appointment this week went well and my weight has been right on track, I didn't feel guilty about indulging. I learned a hard lesson that day about only going to drive-thrus, however. I will now only exclusively go to drive-thrus if I am ever fast fooding it.

The closest McDonald's to our house is a walk-in only, and I'm no fool, I coached Noah on how to behave in order to acquire some french fry action. "Don't run away from mommy. Stay close to mommy. Stand next to mommy. Listen to mommy." Silly Momie took toddler assent to be the equivalent of a binding legal agreement, which it most certainly never is in the toddler world.

If the service had been faster, I bet this whole situation could have been avoided, but the poor kid got bored and started acting up. Then someone left the restaurant, leaving the door wide open, and Noah seized the opportunity and ran right out. I thought he was going to run to our car, which was right in front of the door, but he turned and ran towards the busy street instead! I don't even know how I managed it at 8 months pregnant and this humongous, but I bolted after him and after several seconds of pure horror for me and sheer joy for him, I grabbed hold of his arm and we both fell to the sidewalk before he reached the street.

I was relieved, livid, frustrated and horrified. We went back in, got our food, and when we were both buckled into the car I burst into tears. Pain had started to explode in my abs, groin and thighs, but the baby seemed to be happily kicking in there, so I wasn't worried about him. The rest of my evening was spent angry, and with me lying around with strategically placed ice packs all over me after Noah was down for the night. The next morning I could barely walk, I could hobble-waddle, and only after Brendan physically lifted me out of the bed.

All is now normal, and I know that the safest course of action to take with my incredibly fast son is to wrestle him into a stroller everywhere we go from now on. We both got lucky that nothing tragic happened to either of us. Here's hoping Baby #2 is a bit mellower. Gah.

Happy weekend, everybody!

Preggo Life

I'm really sorry to have gone missing for over a week. My priorities as of late have shifted to sleeping, eating, and chasing my toddler, and that's pretty much it. That doesn't really make for a very interesting blog post. Everything is going really well, aside from some severe bouts of leg cramps and an emotional meltdown last Friday where I couldn't stop crying uncontrollably for no real reason. You know, all run of the mill pregnant stuff!

In exactly 7 short weeks we will be meeting our tiniest human! I'm excited and a little bit nervous, but I'm so ready to not be pregnant anymore. My second son is bigger (according to our last ultrasound), and has much stronger kicks, which results in less restful sleep and having trouble fitting food in my stomach. I have been eating and drinking small bites and sips throughout the day to stay energized, which is really weird for me, because I usually like to eat a lot at once.

We're not totally sure, but Noah seems to be excited to meet his baby brother. Also, he's been looking like such a big kid lately, it's freaking me out. He has huge hands and feet now and is talking and singing non-stop; he is great at potty pees, but prefers to poop in a diaper; and somehow we're in the last two weeks of summer camp and about to embark on preschool in the fall. Time is both speeding past and inching by simultaneously. My first son is growing up so quickly, and yet my second son feels like he will never get here.

I'm happy though, and enjoying my last easy weeks of having a singleton. Happy Hump Day!

Maternity tee from Weestructed

32 and a half weeks pregnant!

Dancing with my boy

Still Feel Weird & Yucky About It

Whenever I go to my Obstetrician's office, which is becoming much more frequent now that baby Wilson #2's arrival approaches, I still get a gross tingly feeling in my feet every time I pass by the room I had my D&C in.

Isn't it funny how the brain works? There is now a large and healthy occupant in my uterus, but I still mourn the baby that never was, and the traumatizing month that ensued. I'm really glad people are starting to talk about miscarriages more, with the help of Mark Zuckerberg sharing his wife's story, YouTube vloggers being open about their experiences, and the many, many truthful Scary Mommy bloggers.

It probably seems like all I have done this pregnancy is complain, but please don't ever mistake that for my not being incredibly grateful every day for this baby. I haven't met him yet and I am already completely in love. I just don't love the aches and pains this time around is all!

Feeling connected to this pregnancy was tough at first because I didn't want to have to endure yet another devastating loss. I was able to check on and see this little guy's heartbeat at 6 weeks, 8 weeks, 10 weeks, 12 weeks and 20 weeks, and one last time this Friday before we get to see him with our own eyes!

I'd like to thank each and every single one of you who has reached out and confided in me about your own experiences with pregnancy loss. I feel truly honoured to have your trust, and I'm glad to be able to provide any kind of support and empathy. Standing together honestly and openly as women and sisters is important.

Happy Monday!

Missing You and Loving You

Somehow, I don't know how, it has been a year since my Tita Brenda passed away. Ever since becoming a mother and reaching my mid thirties, time seems to be speeding by much too quickly for my liking. There isn't a single day that passes that I don't think about her. She's just in the air around me and in my thoughts, like she's still part of my life and my world. Of course, it doesn't hurt that my husband's name is the male version of hers!

Wherever you are Tita Brandy, just so you know, the new baby's middle name will be Brendan, not simply as a tribute to his daddy but also to you. My little family will know you and love you even though you're no longer physically here. 

I love you so much, and I wish you could see my little boys grow up and spoil them the way you always spoiled me. How has it already been a year? 

Hello Everyone!

I know that I disappeared this week, but it has been an intense one. 90 degree heat, doctor's appointments, summer camp, broken appliances, repair men coming by, Brendan leaving for five days, and being a gigantic, waddling pregnant lady with a two and a half year old is a whole lot for one week. We're managing, but I feel like I could sleep for a hundred years.

What's funny is that Small Human likes to wake his dad up at 6:30 every day, but he wakes Momie up at 8 or 9, good boy! But it's not like I get a full night's sleep anyway, since I often get up to pee three times a night. None of this matters, because the chores still need to get done and we have places to go and people to see, regardless of how rested or fatigued I feel. The show must go on!

As of Friday, I'm 30 weeks along into this pregnancy. It's so exciting, and I keep thinking I need to do more things to get prepared, but I feel like we're all set, is that possible? I have one more ultrasound to schedule, but other than that we're so ready.

I am in utter disbelief at how difficult everything is for me right now. Picking toys up off the floor feels like a boot camp session. Even going anywhere without Small Human has become hard. I actually got in my car to drive the 60 seconds it takes to get to my post office today. It was 85 degrees and an uphill walk, so that is what I'm telling myself I did it for. Then there are the really heartbreaking things, like when my son asks to sit on my lap to read and there just isn't enough lap for him to sit on, or when he wants to sleep on me but my belly is in the way. He just doesn't understand why I can't carry him from the car to the house anymore, poor kid.

That's really all that we have been up to. It's been a fun summer, but I'm already looking forward to the fall! Happy August everyone. xo

Trudging along with the potty training!