Perspective

Don't you just love when you get bitch-slapped by a big 'ol dose of perspective? Let me explain:

I got a phone call today telling me that my husband was at the hospital. He fell off a ladder while trimming a tree. That was all I was told. Even after I loudly stated that I needed to hear that he was ok. I believe my exact words were: I need to hear that he's ok so that I can function. I knew that in order to go from point A (gather up my kids and either find someone to watch them or get them calmly into the car) to point B (the hospital) I had to be told that he was alive. Even if it was a lie.

Thankfully, blessedly, he is alive. But hurt. Miraculously, he has no broken bones. Although, he did land on his face, and as a consequence, has 23 stitches holding it together. He bit through his lower lip and almost entirely severed his tongue.

Life is a gift.

I need a job.

Not for money, (although, I'd love to have my "own" money again.) for my sanity. I'm gonna make a little confession here. A confession that I have been fighting to keep inside my head for a very long time.

Sometimes I cannot stand being a stay at home mom.

There. I said it. Or wrote it, as it were.

Allow me to define "cannot stand": as in stay-up-until-1:30-in-the-morning-just-to-stretch-out-the-evening-a little-bit-longer-because-I'm-trying-to-keep-another-day-from-starting kind of loathing.

I love my girls. They are so precious to me. We do have plenty of fun together, especially in the summer months.

But if I don't get some time away from them I think I'm going to freak out.

I know it sounds like I'm complaining about staying home. That's part of the reason why I hesitate to admit that it's not all fun and games. Part of me believes that I'm lucky to be able to stay home, so I should just put up and shut up. There's that inner little voice that tells me to slap on a silly smile because there are plenty of women who would love to have your "problems". (And plenty who don't, I know.)

Whenever I see old friends from my previous job, they always ask me how I like staying home. I always say I love it. Many times this is a true statement, but many times it's a lie. It's like being asked "how are you?" and just saying "fine".

I fantasize about having a part time job. Actually FANTASIZE, people. Unfortunately, my husband has a job that takes him away not only 6 days/week, but 6 months out of the year as well. So, I'm thinking why in the hell would anyone hire someone with such a limited working schedule?

I need to do something. Fast. Either find a job or put in an order for a straight jacket.

Crazy

You can call me that. Why? Well, I just spent an hour and a half tracing and then coloring in a 3 foot picture of *Strawberry *Shortcake. It's my interpretation of pin the tail on the donkey, except miss shortcake doesn't have a tail, she has a big ass bow on her big ass hat.

Anything for my beeyootiful soon to be 4 year old's birthday party this Saturday. I always go overboard on these things. I always have. I'm a party type gal. I love everything to match, tons of balloons, games and enough candy to stop your heart. I'm Waaaaaay weird like that.

This is our first kids' party. The three previous years we just had family over for her birthday. I think I'm just as excited as she is. (Again, weird, I know.) Guess who got to pick the theme, huh?, huh? Me, that's who. Because it is ALL about me, you know. In my defense, I usually take her to the big party store and let her pick out her own theme, but I knew it would be some variation on the princess theme - again. I just couldn't take the tiara and wand thing again. Two years in a row is enough. So, Mommy got to pick! Yay me! Ha! No princess crap this year! Ha! No, no, no. Mommy's having a flashback to her own childhood and cannot pass up the divine cuteness of the Shortcake.

I need a life.

Funky Town (Cheesy, I know. Shut up. You SOOO don't want to mess with me.)

Boy am I cranky. What is the deal, anyway? I haven't got a kind word to say to anyone lately. I really must work on this. My rational mind knows that the girls (and husband) naturally follow my (mood) lead. It's just my irrational, cranky, funky mind that has been taking over lately.

Ever look at your husband and think, gawd I really don't like you today.

Huh?

Or think, it would be sooooo much easier if you just weren't around today. You're totally in my way.

Hmmmm?

Or even, when did the sight of your face start annoying me so much?

No? Just me? Oh.

I WILL get over this funkiness. The funk must stop. I do not need to be funkilicious.

It begins with me. When mama's happy, everybody happy. I'll get right on it.

Starting tomorrow.

Five Months From Now

I've been wanting to get this particular subject "on paper" for awhile now, and now is as good a time as ever. The trouble is, I'm not sure exactly how to put into words what I'm feeling. So, bear with me...

I want another baby. OK! Well, that was easier than I thought, I'll be going....

Anyway, when I was pregnant with each of my girls, it was the most wonderful time of my life. I absolutely loved it. I mean everything. Every moment, sick and all. Every passing week and milestone. Every movement and hiccup. But the part I loved the most, above all else, was labor and delivery. Not just delivery, but the actual labor part as well. The actual act of giving birth changed who I was. It was painful and agonizing and horrible at times, but it was also uplifting, empowering and even spiritual.

So, now we've come to the time to start thinking about having another child. I can't believe the time has come. My 20 month old seems like such a baby to me. The part I'm really having trouble with is that this will be our last child.

My last pregnancy.

That's very hard for me to get my mind around.

I've looked forward to being pregnant again, literally, since I gave birth to my 20 month old. Sounds strange, but it's true. I felt the same way when my first daughter was born.

We'll start trying around September. I'm very excited, but feeling a bit melancholy as well. I'm going to try very hard not to put "this is the last time for..." before every milestone. Truth? That won't happen. Every stage, however mundane, will be the last. I think I need to honor that, so that I can get on with my life after giving birth.

It's very hard to put into words how strongly I feel about my child bearing years. I'm afraid I haven't really done it justice. I know that when this part of my life is over, there is a new chapter that will begin, and I'm sure it will be just as fulfilling - the years of bringing up my wonderful kids, watching them grow into separate little individuals and then finally adults.

And me, learning to let go at each stage along the way.

In A Bad Bloggy Place

Apologies to my two or three loyal readers...I'm just not in the blogging mood lately. Ever get soooo many things whirling around in your brain, that to pick one seems impossible? Yeah, that me. (Anyone know the movie reference?? Huh? Huh?) :)

On top of that, I totally screwed up my back and just sitting upright takes great concentration. Oy. I have no idea how I did this, but I need it to stop hurting. Like yesterday.

And on top of that, my dear, sweet husband is acting like a complete idiot these days.

And the Pope died, so there's that.

Anyway, I'm around reading everyone's blogs and commenting when I can. When my back spasms don't contort my body into a pretzel, that is.