Sunday, January 10, 2010

Cascade of Thought

I’ve been emotional lately. Moody even. Dare I say bitchy temperamental. That is me being politically correct, even though you know (if you read my blog) that I strive to be politically incorrect. Off the tangent, however, and back to the topic. So my attitude has been affecting areas of my life. One moment I am angry, the next moved to tears by sadness, then frustrated, then irritable and impatient. I think life is finally catching up with me. My entire 25 years I have been told by many people that I handle stress well. “Gee, you don’t seem nervous at all.” – as I embark on a journey 1000 miles away from home. “Wow, you don’t look stressed out at all.” – as I am laid off from a job that I need like I need oxygen and then my favorite, “If I were you, I would be so scared! But you look just fine.” – as I await some seven odd inch needle to be jabbed inserted into my back to numb me in preparation for my c-section. So, I think all this calm, at ease, fearless, unstressed external behavior has finally caught up with me. I am exhausted. I suppose it could be the product of having a 19 month old who has decided to enter the stage of ‘terrible twos’ early or the fact that my 5 month old is becoming more dependent by the day instead of less dependent. (Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work? The younger they are = the more dependent they are? – someone needs to inform Breezely. She got the wrong memo)

Tonight I read a story about conjoined twins who passed away an hour after birth.
Oh, I guess I ought to put a disclaimer here.



The following paragraph may provoke controversial conversation. You have been warned.

Anyway, tonight I read a story about conjoined twins who passed away an hour after birth. Truthfully, I don’t search out blogs of women who have suffered the most intense loss life could offer. I generally pick a person from the list of followers in a blog I follow and 7 times out of 10 it seems to be this kind of blog. In any case, it got me thinking. While I have suffered an early miscarriage, I do not know what it is to lose a baby who was born alive, who I held, who became more than just movement and pictures on an ultrasound screen but a living, breathing, wonderful bundle of joy whose eyes I looked into and whose little hands I kissed . . . I haven’t experienced this as I have stated in previous posts. ( To see the post I speak of, click here) I am wondering what people’s opinions are. Is it more painful to have conceived a child, lived the duration of the pregnancy, given birth and lost the child or to have never been able to get pregnant at all? My own instant answer would be the former . . . then again, I don’t think everybody would agree with me. Please, I would love your feedback on this.

Onto other topics, my weight loss journey continues. I’ve lost 11lbs so far. That’s since the 1st of January. Not so bad. 11 lbs in 10 days. Not bad at all. What am I doing you might ask? Well, because I cannot live without coffee in the morning and my coffee cannot live without creamer I have taken to drinking a little coffee with my cream and calling that breakfast. Then for lunch I eat a Lean Cuisine. (By the way, for frozen microwaveable food, their food is fantabulistic!!) My favorite dishes so far are the cannelloni and the sweet and sour chicken. Anyhoo, then for dinner I have another Lean Cuisine or one helping of whatever my grandpa made if it’s Wednesday or Friday (those are the days we eat at their house). Between meals I chew a ton of sugarless gum and I live in diet coke! For exercise I Wiiiiiiiiiiii . . . (Not Wii Fitness) Just Wii. I bought a game called Just Dance and dance to as many songs as I can every day. It’s a work out let me tell you!
I am the kind of person who was always able to go hours and hours on treadmills and ellipticals but have a hard time with any kind of weights; machine, free weights or otherwise. I just have no upper body strength what-so-ever and so I always wondered how I would ever tone my upper body. Well, I found the answer. Just Dance has cardio and uses every part of your body. No need to wonder if you’re targeting those flabby saddlebags or your wings (as I call them – the flabby skin beneath your bicep that jiggles when you wave hello or goodbye)


*WARNING – Rated G - Gross for inclusion of flatulence

My daughters wrestle, roll, snore, whine sleep on either side of me now since we live at my mom’s house. Breezely’s crib is pushed up against the wall, my teeny tiny excuse for a twin bed is shoved up against her crib and Buzzy’s plastic piece of crap Dora bed sits about 10 inches (probably less) to the other side of mine.
So as I sit here blogging, my stomach starts to growl moo. No really, it sounded like a cow mooing. That isn’t ironic. ((rolls eyes)) Then I get that familiar gurgly pain that I have grown accustomed to since being pregnant with Buzzy. A gurgly pain that has only grown more severe with the subsequent c-section and then the immediate pregnancy with Breezely proceeding. I’m sure my elective c-section with her did nothing to better the situation and now I have such bad IBS gurgly pain that I know it means, GET TO THE BATHROOM. GET TO THE BATHROOM NOW. DO NOT PASS GO, DO NOT COLLECT $200 BECAUSE IF YOU DO YOU’LL BE DESTINED FOR A NIGHT OF POOPY LAUNDRY AND ANOTHER SHOWER (or in this case, just A shower because my children don’t afford me the luxury of a daily shower – yeah eew, I know) So, of course, Murphy’s law would have it that at that precise moment Buzzy would stir. She tries to sit up, still mostly asleep and mumbles, “Mama, hode you.” I grab one of her bottles that I keep handy and shove it in her mouth give it to her . . . then, as my stomach continues to gurgle Breezely decides she’d like her bottle too and begins her famous pouty bottom lip cry. (someday I’ll get a pic of it. It’s seriously classic) So, I grudgingly impatiently give her her bottle and hope I don’t crap my pants have an accident. She takes her time suckin’ down the remnants of her bottle while I am fidgeting around, squeezing everything together as tight as I can squeeze it. Finally, she breaks suction from the nipple and I quickly shove replace it with her binky. Now, remember there is only about 5-10 inches space between my bed and Buzzy, so I literally have to throw myself over my own bed to get to the door of the bedroom. (can we say fire hazard?) Well, I can’t just go catapulting myself over beds now. I am having a hard enough time sitting still without ‘letting everything go’. But finally, with a lot of irritation and some bruised shins I finally get up and make it to the bathroom.
Here comes the part I am sure every mother who has ever spent an evening alone with her infant understands. I can see both Buzzy and Breezely from the mirror in the bathroom, through the open bathroom door and into the bedroom. They are both sleeping soundly but I insist on keeping the door to the bathroom open just in case there is some random emergency while I’m taking a shit doing my business. But then come the farts. The quiet kind, you ask? Of course not! What kind of story would that make? No, these are the loud, long, rip roaring ones that cause you to cringe even if no one is around to listen. And of course, my girls are less than 20 feet away so not only do I cringe with each excruciatingly thunderous fart but I try to squelch them as well which makes them come out louder pitched and longer. AAAGGGH! Yet, I sigh with relief as with each fart, neither child stirs. It feels like an eternity that I spent in the bathroom with my mother’s ears trained to hear even the faintest whimper over my loud bowel issues digestive upset . . . but finally when I’m done I am relieved when I once again see that they are still sleeping. Then comes the dilemma: to flush, or not to flush . . .

Would you? LOL

Did I?


Don’t worry, I did . . . and my girls still didn’t move. Thank God.

Word of the day: Bombastic . . .

1 comment :

  1. Hello,

    First I want to thank you for your comment to my blog and asking me to post more often. Life does get in the way but the truth is that I have been in the middle of starting my business and my blog fell off the radar because I figured no one would miss it. Today I see that I was wrong and I am humbled :} I will get on that ASAP. You have inspired me.
    Next, girl you have every right to be bitchy and moody and sad. You have gone through so much in your young life. I have been there and my heart goes out to you. As a fellow writer, I know that in our personalities are so many emotions and such a huge amount of awareness of the world around us that sometimes it seems unbearable.
    I often am the butt of jokes regarding how many kids I have and that I had them so young and many say that I didn't deserve to have kids. Well poo on them. You are right. God chooses who and where the little angels go to. Us moms that have the (ahem-balls) nerve to withstand the comments know that we must not judge those who are against us, we must simply smile and move on.
    I, too, suffer from (IBS) stomach issues. Girl I could have written your post. Don't ask my son about the one time in the van when... Ya, not pretty. I have some tips and tricks that I have learned over the years and I suffer much less than I used to. The disease doesn't have to rule your life, you can be in control. I laughed my ass of though while reading your story and laughed so loud that my eighteen year old asked me if I needed a paramedic. lol. Good story, thanks for sharing and let me know if you want to hear the tips and tricks for controlling (IBS) your tummy troubles...better yet, I'll go blog about it. Enjoy sweetie and thanks again. Hang in there, I see big things headed your direction. <3


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