Flowers

Flowers are given to show love, cheer people up or say “sorry I was such a daft prick”. If only these sentiments would last longer than the flower itself (sometimes even less). We could say “you know, I would be so pissed off at you right now, but that flower you gave me last year…wow. That flower changed my world man, you can do no wrong!” or “I know I’m laid up in the hospital right now with some debilitating disease that causes bed sores, but I just can’t get this smile off my face ever since those carnations arrived last month”.

When someone is in the hospital and they receive flowers, they probably think its awesome at first. They are probably happy for a little while afterwards thinking, “wow, so-and-so thought of me and sent these”. But by the end of the day, the person is still sick, feeling miserable and definitely not feeling cheerful. Even looking at the pretty flowers again later on will only have a temporary effect of delight. This is because the flowers didn’t make them better, they only filled them with brief joy. Perhaps even let them forget their sickness for a few glorious moments.

Sure, getting flowers is definitely better than not…a hospital room with no flowers is a million times more depressing…but you can’t escape the fact that the person is still sick.

This is true with relationships too. You can feel so special receiving flowers, more so if you don’t get them very often. However, unless you are staring at the flowers all day long, a sick relationship will still be sick in the end. It needs more than flowers…it needs to be treated like a sick patient. This includes constant monitoring (a sick patient gets checked-on several times a day, not forgotten as soon as the day gets busy), a healthy diet of love and respect (not a diet filled with crap like being made to feel unimportant or not listened to) and of course some medicine (now is when the flowers, chocolates and cards come in).

I Think I’m Alone Now…

Its amazing how hard it is to get some alone time when you have two kids. The only true alone time I get is when I’m in the shower. Of course, getting a shower these days is a monumental feat (happens as often as Haley’s comet, winning the lottery or me receiving flowers), so I’m not getting that time to myself hardly at all these days.

Today was thankfully one of those diamonds in the rough. I gleefully locked that bathroom door (because everyone knows you can’t even go to the bathroom alone when you have kids, much less shower) and hopped into the shower. I stayed in the hot water as long as I could, which is about 6 minutes considering how small our hot water heater is. I hate that the shower has to be so quick…that means my alone time is over way too fast.

However, today I just couldn’t do it. I could not leave that solace. My little getaway, escape from the world. I just sat there, leaning my head against the wall, wishing i could have more time.

In that place, there are no screaming kids, no husband needing me, no family needing me, no politics, no business that is on life-support (i need to get back to it before it flat-lines) and no money problems.

I need to figure out how to get a long, hot bath from the warden…that would last a lot longer than 6 minutes.

I’m Bean

My new little man is already three weeks old. His given name is Jamie, and he definitely looks and acts like a Jamie, but he also takes on the look of many other animals. I can’t help myself. He makes funny faces and looks like little baby animals (or funny british men, take your pick).

When he was born he looked like a turtle. Of course a very cute turtle that I love like mad…but nonetheless, a turtle (take a look at this turtle pic if you don’t believe me).

He often looks like Fievel Mousekewitz, the mouse from An American Tail. A tiny little adorable mouse that sings ballads. Is this not a total Fievel face? Ok, maybe other people can’t see the Fievel in him…maybe its just when you are holding his teeny body and his eyes say “somewhere out there…” in that little voice that you KNOW made you cry little Mousekewitz tears.

He has oompa-loompa feet. They are so cute, I could eat them up.

He looks like a baby bird when he wants to eat. I’ll spare you the pictures, but just imagine a little bird with its mouth wide open, flailing back and forth trying to find the food as if it hasn’t eaten in years and this will be the last meal of its entire life. Yeah man, that’s PASSION FOR FOOD. Definitely my son.

He sounds like a little piggy when he’s got his little birdy face on. TOTALLY SNORTS. I call him Mr. Snorty Who Snorts A Lot With the Snorting (he is from the same town as Her Screamness Who Screams A Lot Every Day With the Screaming, apparently).

He looks like a baby monkey. He has crazy long arms and really long fingers. His big toes look like opposable thumbs, they are so long. The thing that seals the monkey-deal is that he flails his long monkey arms around like an ape, and grunts. I will add some pictures as proof as soon as I capture his monkey-essence on film. I need to get the flailing, the fingers and the opposable toes…its a hard shot to get.

Another hard shot to get is his funny british guy face. Specifically, Mr. Bean. I’m usually laughing too hysterically to capture this shot, but I’ll keep trying.

I am so in love with my little turtle, Fievel, oompa-loompa, birdy, piggy, monkey bean-man. I can’t wait to see what the next three weeks will bring!

Not Just Fussy, Highly Sensitive and Out-of-Sync…

We’ve been dealing with a lot around here lately. Most things, I’m sure, are not unlike the things many young families struggle with and work through-job and financial uncertainty, adjusting to a new baby, etc. However, we have an additional trial that, while not a surprise, has become something we can no longer be non-chalant about.

Last week Charlie’s Pediatrician put him on a new diet. This is a diet for kids who are showing early signs of Autism.

We have had suspicions about Charlie being a little bit more intense and “different” than other children ever since the day he emerged from the womb crying his head off. By the way, he’s only gotten louder every day ever since. He’s as loud as a freight train driving past a wood-chipper that’s next to a jackhammer being hammered by my sister telling a story (hint: she’s LOUD). And that’s when he’s “whispering”. I know this to be true now more than ever, because his new baby brother is as loud as a mouse sleeping with a pacifier in comparison. If there was any doubt about Charlie’s loudness, its all gone now.

Anyway, I digress.

From very early on I started reading books trying to figure out how to best parent Charlie Boy. It started with The Fussy Baby Book, then it was The Highly Sensitive Child, then Raising Your Out-of-Sync Child. All of these helped me to see that there were other “high needs” babies out there, so I guess I wasn’t alone. The only problem was that I always finished the book thinking “but Charlie is even more Fussy, Highly Sensitive and Out-of-Sync than even these books describe!”. Most of their techniques and suggestions just did not work with our Boy (but they sure helped a heck of a lot more than any parenting advise we got from others…those people have normal babies, not supernatural-I-can-sense-when-you-are-leaving-the-room-

so-don’t-get-more-than-2-inches-from-me-or-i-will-scream-

even-though-it-seems-like-i’m-sound-asleep baby). These people never believed us when we’d try to explain that Charlie Was Different and a more difficult breed than other kids. It was frustrating to always be told that we were just over-reacting, all kids go through these kinds of phases, he’ll grow out of it and start sleeping, talking, whatever.

While it was hard to always feel that our parenting was being invalidated by these comments, it was still a bit comforting that- maybe its true, we are paranoid, and the Boy is normal. After all, he is our first born, we didn’t have any other children of our own to compare him to.

Hearing the doctor actually validate and confirm our suspicions that Charlie is showing signs of having a disorder somewhere on the Autistic Spectrum was a relief but also extremely FINAL. We aren’t paranoid, he won’t grow out of it.

I’ve been mourning this acceptance for the last week.

Here’s the good news: Charlie is definitely not a full-blown Autistic child. He makes eye contact, can interact socially if he wants (usually very shy when he first meets people) and is incredibly loving and affectionate to us and our immediate family whom he knows quite well. He does have many other behaviors that are classically autistic, the main one being speech delay. We have him set to be evaluated by a speech therapist…one that’s so good we can’t get in for 2 months. (UGH.) As he gets older they will be able to make a more specific diagnosis (which disorder on the spectrum he has). I’ll keep everyone updated as the story develops.

Charlie is so darn smart…he’s always shocking us with his little misschevious plots and funny things he figures out. I hope that the world will see this and not see only his “delays”. I hope that the speech therapy works, that he does not regress, and that he no longer gets funny looks at the play yard when he makes loud yelling noises that draw major attention to his “delays”. Its hard for a mom to watch other people look at her child as Weird.

Well, as my mom pointed out today “Charlie has no idea other uneducated parents are looking at him funny, and he certainly isn’t bothered by it. Why should you be?”

Very true indeed.

There Is No Fairy Godmother

This basically sums it up:

“These are the stakes in the 2004 election; fight for justice, or run away and hide and hope that the fairy godmother will make it all better for us. President Bush has not lead us into an easy situation; he has lead us into a situation of immense difficulty where we have to fight and fight and fight for what is right - Kerry would lead us into a dreamworld…a dream which we’d eventually be shaken out of by the enemy who has come for us right here at home”

You can read the rest here.

I love you, you love me…

I decided right away to “come out” as a Bush supporter on my blog, as you can see from the links I have in this post. I know that it may turn readers away, but I can’t censor any part of what I think and feel, and that includes my political beliefs.

This blog is for me first, after all.

I have many blogs I read, on my blogroll and others, that have different views than mine. I love to read them for their savvy writing, their heart-wrenching story, their smart politics, or just because I like the person. I have had certain blogs on my blogroll, even though they were liberals through and through, because I enjoyed their posts. Some I’ve taken off my list recently and stopped reading b/c my affinity for their writing was no longer stronger than my outrage at their liberal…um…spewing. Hopefully I don’t turn off any liberal friends too much, I have lots of friends like you and I love you!

If I do turn you off, then I probably wouldn’t read your blog either, so we’re even.

You are Two!

With a nod to one of my favorite blogging moms, dooce, I want to begin writing to the boys as they reach milestones in their lives. Hopefully someday they will read these and then love and adore me and feed me grapes.

Year Two, a Summary:

Dear Charlie,

You turned two years old today. We look at you and still see that tiny little newborn who screamed his way into our lives not long ago. You are now considered a “preschooler”, no longer a toddler. You are to officially to be referred to in years, not months. You aren’t 24 months, you’re two whole years old!

Can you believe it?

Of course you can, since you already can do everything on your own-at least all the really important things. You can drink the milk from your cereal after all the cereal’s gone, yes! without spilling. You can get all the toys out of Ducky for your bath, and then put them all back again, being sure to only put the baby animals in on the left and all the other loser toys in on the right (sometimes the babies are on the right, but those babies do not mix with the losers, heavens no!). You can line up your hot wheels end to end all around your room and then scream in glee at how cool you are. You can wiggle to Sesame Street songs even when its really late, you should be asleep, and you actually WERE asleep two seconds prior. Being able to groove to the beat, even when asleep, is a most valuable skill these days…especially in Los Angeles.

Your best friend is your Daddy, who has been exhausting himself entertaining you and making you bagels on a daily basis. He is not only really good at playing games with your cars and trains, he is also good at being bossed around by you. He works very hard to keep you happy and keep me happy at the same time. A tough task indeed! Daddy is always thinking about the day when you and your baby brother Jamie are old enough to go camping. Even though he doesn’t get to camp very much these days, he loves it and knows you will too. After all, there will be TONS of squirrels to follow around and imitate! And ants! Too many for even you to count!

One week ago your world changed completely when your baby brother Jamie was born. You really love him, can’t stop kissing him, can’t stop worrying about every little squeak and grunt he makes, and of course can’t stop looking at him in his moses basket over and over (and over and over) again. You aren’t too sure how to act towards me or Daddy though. You have an ongoing dilemma…do you act like a big boy and help out cleaning up your toys, or do you act even more “terrible two” than before, making sure if you’re not happy, no one is? I think you struggle with these decisions on a minute-by-minute basis, going by your mood. Luckily you are a very secure boy, know that we still love you so very much and that you will ALWAYS be our first baby. Daddy and I are so excited to watch your relationship with Jamie develop and change. We know you will be bossing him around too (why should he get out of all the FUN that the rest of us get to have?) and you will of course make sure he lines up all those hot wheels the right way, exact and perfect.

You are talking so much these days, getting better and better each second. Our favorite words that you say are fishy (”fi-fee!”) and ribbit (”wi-wiiit!”) How exciting it will be when you can say “are you kidding me?! don’t you dare wash my hair you insane crazy person who is wielding bath gel!”.

Oh and, just so we are keeping track, you still hate getting your hair washed with the fiery passion of 10,000 burning suns.

I love you my little man, and all of your fiery passion too (maybe even most of all).

Happy Birthday.

Love,

Mama

Coming Up For Air

Phew. I finally have few minutes, and a few ounces of energy, to write a little. The last week has been a whirlwind of people and emotions. I’ve been thinking all week about things I want/need to blog about…but either haven’t had a second to spare, or when I did have a second did not have the energy to do so. This excuse/reason also applies to showering. And brushing my teeth.

I wanted so badly for my first post-pregnancy post (hee!) to be about my beautiful new baby. I have lots to write about, and I know there will be endless material in the days-months-years to come, but I want to be gushing and going on and on about Jamie right now. I want to talk about how he sleeps and eats all day and stays happy. I want to talk about how he’s so adorable and looks so much like his older brother. I want to talk about my wonderful, awesome, fabulous birth story (no…it REALLY was!). I want to talk about what a super-dad the hubs is being and how profoundly grateful I am for him. However…

There are other things that are taking up more brain space right now. I’ve been in a “Funk” since the day after Jamie was born, and I am wondering how long its going to last. I remember feeling this way with Charlie, but I don’t know when it was the fog lifted. It seems worse this time, but maybe I’m just not remembering right.

We’ve heard a million things in the media about post-partum depression, how its so common. I’ve seen a lot of blogging mom’s I read regularly going through some kind of emotional struggle or another after they have their baby. I remember thinking in the weeks before Jamie came, that I wanted to do “whatever I could” to prevent that from happening to me. How exactly would I do that?! Now I realize that’s pretty silly. Its not like I’m CHOOSING to feel this way, and if I’d just choose NOT to feel this way, all would be ok. What I’m wondering is…how do you know when its more than just the “baby blues” and actually something more serious?

I know its not even been a week since Jamie was born, and maybe I should just be giving it “more time”, but I hate feeling this way. I hate feeling totally overwhelmed by each and every little decision of the day (what should I eat for lunch today?). I hate not feeling like getting out of bed. I hate feeling sad that I don’t have very much “me and Charlie” time any more. I hate feeling sad that its not just the three of us any more. I hate feeling like I miss being pregnant (how silly! a week ago I was begging God to make the baby come!) I hate feeling like I should be working on my business, but I can’t even begin to think complicated business thoughts right now. I hate being stressed about money. I hate being able to cry at the drop of a hat. I hate that my life feels totally topsy-turvey and I have no energy and no CLUE how to get it back in working order.

Millions of mom’s do this every day-the whole more than one child thing. Why am I having such a hard time doing it? Especially when the hubs is doing 99.9% of the work with the 2-year old? And the baby is a total piece of cake to care for? Jamie doesn’t wake when a 2-year old is having a tantrum 2 feet away! He doesn’t wake when you crack your ankle while walking on the other side of the room! He doesn’t wake when you simply THINK about moving your left big toe b/c you’ve been sitting in the same position for hours! He only cries when he’s hungry, needs to burp or has a dirty diaper! When you remedy these things he stops crying! He doesn’t cry all day and all night for some secret reason only he knows! And feels compelled to not share with you! (just take a guess why these things are all REALLY cool and TOTALLY new to me.) We haven’t even needed our swing! Not once!

So, don’t ask me why life seems so incredibly difficult right now because, I can’t give you a reason. It just. Is.

So here’s the other thing…I don’t want people worrying about me or feeling bad for me or anything like that. Since I desperately don’t want them doing this, it makes me not want to talk about my Funk. I know this is probably not the best idea. Withdrawing when you feel depressed can’t be a good thing, right?

The other, other thing is that I can be a really emotional person sometimes anyway (read: Drama Queen) and I’m also wondering if I’m just being a Drama Queen this time too. Am I just creating this whole depressed thing in my head? I mean, yeah I’m dead tired (the Angel does sleep a lot, but he also nurses every hour on the dot) and yeah, I’m still pretty sore. But those things should be far out-weighed by all the fabulousness that is Jamie.

He is SO WONDERFUL.

I am trying very hard not to feel guilty about the Funk, because…how much more ungrateful could a person be?? There are so many women out there who can’t even have children, and here I am-Funk.

Ugh.

All I can say is that the Funk is a completely separate thing from the Total and Utter Elation and Joy I feel for this new baby and the new family of 4 we have now. Its incredible how a person can feel these two things simultaneously, isn’t it?