Last week, on Tuesday, I found out that I am pregnant again.
OhcrapOhcrapOhcrap.
I'm not sure what to think of it all. My estimated due date right now is at the very end of March, which would mean that Gavin would be 2 months shy of turning of 4 and Adrian would be 1 year and 2 months old.
This was a total surprise - as far as surprises of pregnancy go when you're having sex, I suppose. Gavin and Adrian were each planned at a good time for us when we knew we were ready. This really happened too soon for my liking and I'm having difficulty wrapping my head around the whole situation. There are too many open ended questions without definitive answers here. All I know is that I've never been so scared and unprepared in my life. I won't say that I hate the idea, because I don't, but it does worry me when I look at the logistics.
Children are so precious and I am of the mindset and belief to trust that they are gifts and should be treated as such, but the responsibility can be crushing at times. I don't know if anyone who isn't a military spouse could really understand the feeling of being so alone in a world so big trying to juggle so much at once. As a good military spouse you have to be fully flexible to your partner's schedule and that can mean he could be gone for a year or more! I'm not just talking about late nights at the office, ya know. This encorporates a whole difference scenario of being freaking alone and having to continue with life without your partner for who knows how long or when it will happen. For example, how do women involve their husbands who are gone in births of children? Webcams. Yup. It's not uncommon to have a husband on the phone or a webcam while a wife is in labor, and I've only seen this in military families. While I've been lucky enough so far not to be without my husband during child bearing I've heard of this scene happening time and again.
You lose so much support when you move overseas, too. You really have to cling to the other military families you make friends with even though it will only be temporary. We've made a decision to move on base to get closer to people in the same boat as us. I think it will help just to have that sense of community. But even doing that will not be able to replace those missing family members that you miss so much. Having children in the mix is even harder because you realize that your family is missing out so much in their lives, too.
My personal issues with this is mostly based on the fear of being unprepared. Yeah, I've got all the baby clothes (if it's a boy) and the crib and gear. I'm unprepared mentally. What if I can't spread myself enough to be able to give each child what they want and need as individuals? What if I fall into a deep post partum depression again and am unable to cope? What if Adrian feels passed over? Will I be able to celebrate Adrian's achievements the same way I did with Gavin? How will I do the simplest of tasks, like going to the store, with all of them? Will Gavin feel left out if the younger two become cliquish? Who will help me survive this whirlwind?
When it comes down to it, I'm so happy for the children. All I wanted was for my children to be close and find a best friend in each other. I hope that's what they'll become and they will be able to forgive me of all my shortcomings in parenting because I have plenty.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
A whole other version
I haven't written anything in so long; not even any personal journal entries. For good reason, though. I've been trying to do some self improvement for awhile, mostly due to having long lasting postpartum depression (5 very long, awful months), and something finally clicked.
When Adrian was born I felt so much guilt over taking away Gavin's place as the baby. I felt an overwhelming sense of incompetence and anger over that incompetence. It was as if I couldn't live up to my expectations and therefore I was screwing up my family beyond repair. It wasn't helping that Gavin was acting out due to my lack of being emotionally available. There was also this internal struggle about breastfeeding that I never felt before. I had a lot of feelings of resentment and guilt that seemed to be simmering in my stomach and breastfeeding wasn't curing it or replacing it with those lovely endorphins. I was looking at it more as a chore than a movement to bond with my baby. Why couldn't I feel what mothers feel for their children on television or look the way those stupid new moms look in magazines? Here I was sitting and crying for days, not changing my clothes or showering, mussed hair and no makeup, looking like I just escaped the looney bin. Fuck you, Picture Perfect Mom. I think I'll cancel my subscription to Parents magazine and start my own called "Shit Just Got Real". Whaddaya think? Who'd subscribe to that?
I started counseling about a month and a half after giving birth, which didn't help because the counselor was a bonafide airhead. All she did was piss me off with her Mother Nature-esque attitude. So, I switched over to a military provided therapist who was a great fit for me. I also went to a psychiatrist there who really wanted to put me on some SSRI's to help but she wasn't willing to do that while I was nursing and I wasn't 100% into that recourse. I continued to go to my therapist and finally brought up my bitter feelings where she really shined some light on things for me.
I have always looked at breastfeeding as an all-or-none choice. So, I thought I was doomed hold this mega responsibility which was the hair that was about to break my back. I didn't want to quit all together, so what could I do? Madame Therapist told me to partially wean. What?!! That's possible?! And the clouds opened up. Silly as it seems, it made all the difference.
When Adrian was about 5 1/2 months I started regularly giving formula. Dad participated, too, which was refreshing. Guilt and anxiety about what others would think of me cropped up and I really had to shut that out. All this pressure and worry melted off my shoulders when I allowed myself to share the responsiblity of the children with other people involved in their lives (my husband, relatives). Yeah, I realize that maybe some people, especially in family, might try to judge my decision poorly, but it's a good time to bust out my fancy dance move called the Shoulder Shrug. I've done this and put myself in a place mentally that allowed me to fall in love with my children all over again. I get excited about those little things they do again. I'm able now, after 6 months of fighting with myself, to be the person I want to be. I'm not acting like I need to be in Mommy Dearest anymore. I also am secure in the knowledge that Adrian is going to love me regardless of what is fed to him. The even better part is that I'm getting to have my cake and eat it, too, by nursing at night and using formula in the daytime.
Whether to nurse or not wasn't the problem, but by changing a few things in my life it created a catalyst to be able to revamp my whole self and start things fresh with my kids. Whatever I needed to achieve that goal is justified and I'd rather sacrifice a small thing to be able to gain a larger prize: a great relationship with myself and my family. I no longer feel like a pressure cooker or a hopeless mess, nor do I think about walking out the door sans phone and money and get away as far as my feet can take me.
This change is also helping deal with the upcoming stress I'll be handling next month. We're taking a vacation which includes spending 1 week in Florida with Nick's whole (and I mean WHOLE) family. Then we're going on to Texas to spend a few days with my grandparents, but seeing my parents will be incorporated in the visit somehow. Finally, off to Pennsylvania to relax and do a lot of nothing besides eating at Eat'N'Park. We're renting cars (which if you're a USAA member you get decent discounts!) and that should help allow us to do more of what we want to do regardless of others.
To start, I'm a tad nervous about the Florida trip. Nick's family easily overwhelmes me, and always has, to which I sort of shut down or slide into the background. I guess they take that as me being snooty and it caused a lot of tension, a lot of which I was unaware of. I don't know exactly how things are now between me and them, but I'm giving all efforts of not going in with any preconceived ideas and to let things go as they will. Then the trip to Texas will be nice, except seeing my folks. I love, love, love being at my grandparents. They raised me and I view them as my parents, but I still have to deal with those people who actually are my parents. -yay-. My mother has never met my husband and, honestly, it could stay that way for all I care. To prove a point here, I called her for the first time in 7 months (no, she didn't hear about the baby's birth) and she didn't even ask me how my children were. She's about as unavailable as they come. My father...God bless him. That's all I should say about it. He has moments where he actually tries and even the blind could see how unnatural it is for him to attempt to bond. If I could be guilt free about it, I'd stay at my gram's the whole time and eat her awesome cucumber salad.
But it's all about making the effort and being unreproachable in the end with some things, isn't it? Do your best so no one can say you didn't try.
When Adrian was born I felt so much guilt over taking away Gavin's place as the baby. I felt an overwhelming sense of incompetence and anger over that incompetence. It was as if I couldn't live up to my expectations and therefore I was screwing up my family beyond repair. It wasn't helping that Gavin was acting out due to my lack of being emotionally available. There was also this internal struggle about breastfeeding that I never felt before. I had a lot of feelings of resentment and guilt that seemed to be simmering in my stomach and breastfeeding wasn't curing it or replacing it with those lovely endorphins. I was looking at it more as a chore than a movement to bond with my baby. Why couldn't I feel what mothers feel for their children on television or look the way those stupid new moms look in magazines? Here I was sitting and crying for days, not changing my clothes or showering, mussed hair and no makeup, looking like I just escaped the looney bin. Fuck you, Picture Perfect Mom. I think I'll cancel my subscription to Parents magazine and start my own called "Shit Just Got Real". Whaddaya think? Who'd subscribe to that?
I started counseling about a month and a half after giving birth, which didn't help because the counselor was a bonafide airhead. All she did was piss me off with her Mother Nature-esque attitude. So, I switched over to a military provided therapist who was a great fit for me. I also went to a psychiatrist there who really wanted to put me on some SSRI's to help but she wasn't willing to do that while I was nursing and I wasn't 100% into that recourse. I continued to go to my therapist and finally brought up my bitter feelings where she really shined some light on things for me.
I have always looked at breastfeeding as an all-or-none choice. So, I thought I was doomed hold this mega responsibility which was the hair that was about to break my back. I didn't want to quit all together, so what could I do? Madame Therapist told me to partially wean. What?!! That's possible?! And the clouds opened up. Silly as it seems, it made all the difference.
When Adrian was about 5 1/2 months I started regularly giving formula. Dad participated, too, which was refreshing. Guilt and anxiety about what others would think of me cropped up and I really had to shut that out. All this pressure and worry melted off my shoulders when I allowed myself to share the responsiblity of the children with other people involved in their lives (my husband, relatives). Yeah, I realize that maybe some people, especially in family, might try to judge my decision poorly, but it's a good time to bust out my fancy dance move called the Shoulder Shrug. I've done this and put myself in a place mentally that allowed me to fall in love with my children all over again. I get excited about those little things they do again. I'm able now, after 6 months of fighting with myself, to be the person I want to be. I'm not acting like I need to be in Mommy Dearest anymore. I also am secure in the knowledge that Adrian is going to love me regardless of what is fed to him. The even better part is that I'm getting to have my cake and eat it, too, by nursing at night and using formula in the daytime.
Whether to nurse or not wasn't the problem, but by changing a few things in my life it created a catalyst to be able to revamp my whole self and start things fresh with my kids. Whatever I needed to achieve that goal is justified and I'd rather sacrifice a small thing to be able to gain a larger prize: a great relationship with myself and my family. I no longer feel like a pressure cooker or a hopeless mess, nor do I think about walking out the door sans phone and money and get away as far as my feet can take me.
This change is also helping deal with the upcoming stress I'll be handling next month. We're taking a vacation which includes spending 1 week in Florida with Nick's whole (and I mean WHOLE) family. Then we're going on to Texas to spend a few days with my grandparents, but seeing my parents will be incorporated in the visit somehow. Finally, off to Pennsylvania to relax and do a lot of nothing besides eating at Eat'N'Park. We're renting cars (which if you're a USAA member you get decent discounts!) and that should help allow us to do more of what we want to do regardless of others.
To start, I'm a tad nervous about the Florida trip. Nick's family easily overwhelmes me, and always has, to which I sort of shut down or slide into the background. I guess they take that as me being snooty and it caused a lot of tension, a lot of which I was unaware of. I don't know exactly how things are now between me and them, but I'm giving all efforts of not going in with any preconceived ideas and to let things go as they will. Then the trip to Texas will be nice, except seeing my folks. I love, love, love being at my grandparents. They raised me and I view them as my parents, but I still have to deal with those people who actually are my parents. -yay-. My mother has never met my husband and, honestly, it could stay that way for all I care. To prove a point here, I called her for the first time in 7 months (no, she didn't hear about the baby's birth) and she didn't even ask me how my children were. She's about as unavailable as they come. My father...God bless him. That's all I should say about it. He has moments where he actually tries and even the blind could see how unnatural it is for him to attempt to bond. If I could be guilt free about it, I'd stay at my gram's the whole time and eat her awesome cucumber salad.
But it's all about making the effort and being unreproachable in the end with some things, isn't it? Do your best so no one can say you didn't try.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Playground
The world outside your front door can be an amazing place. Amazing funny and rediculous. We ventured out today to one of the nice playgrounds on one of the bases here. This particular playground is one we frequent quite often when we're in the area and it's one of the most popular. This is good for my oldest son who gets a variety of kids to play with, and it's nice for me because I get to "people-watch". I've decided to take note on some of the people I watch while there, ya know, just for funsies.
The first person to catch my eye was an extremely obese mom (maybe grandmother??) who had a midly scrawny child with her. Now, don't get your undies in a wad; I do accept people of all sizes, colors, and yadda yadda. My problem was that this particular mom happened to take up half the bench and was shoveling Burger King onion rings in her mouth to the point where her cheeks puffed out. I'm not a fan of people who just sit and continue to destroy their bodies and show their children it's ok to follow suit. I'll readily admit I still have some baby fat after 4 months of giving birth, which I'm ok with, but I manage to be able to run and play with my children and function well. If nothing else, it's nice to be able to function, right?
Let's move along to stylish mama. I had to keep from bursting out laughing at the "hot mama" who actually did wear a nice black top with tasteful white shorts. It was a cute get up that could've been worn out to lunch with girlfriends or whatever, until you see that she was wearing those stupid looking toe shoes and a cream knit winter hat. It was 82 degrees today and I had to double check my memory bank to make sure that it is May. I guess you do what you have to do in the name of fashion.
On the swings a mother started arguing with her daughter, who looked about 8 years old, for like 20 minutes about wearing shoes on the playground. Maybe I'm niave about parenting, but that whole argument I listened to seemed foolish. I would assume that after 8 years of being around and learning about the most important person in your life (your child), you would know what tactics work to get the required results. Every child is different, I understand, so maybe one child needs firm guidance while another just needs a quiet whisper in the ear to keep them on track, maybe explaining the rationale when you make a request, or any tactic in between. It's hard to say what a kid needs, but you grow as a parent as the child grows and you really learn each other.
Watching that incident made me recall the last time I was there playing on the swings with Gavin. I little 5 year old girl came up and began to use the swing next to me. She was there with her mother who stayed on her cell phone the whole time. As we were swinging the little girl started to cry. I'm not sure why, and her mother just continued pushing her higher and higher with one hand while carrying on her conversation with her mobile in the other hand. From what I gathered, as the lady wasn't any good at keeping her conversation private, she was a German woman who was divorcing a military man and was telling her friend how she was planning to take all she could from him. Lovely sentiment for your daughter to hear!
Now, the funniest person of the day award goes to a little girl who absolutely stomped on the playground brat. Bratty girl wanted to play superheroes, which was cool with the other girl, until Bratty wanted to be Wonder Woman. The other girl started to quiz her on her knowledge of Wonder Woman and when she failed the quiz the title of Wonder Woman was usurped. That girl started rattling off facts about the superhero and totally schooled Bratty who had to give up the the character. I couldn't help but chuckle.
The best part of the whole outing was watching Gavin play with all the other kids and really being a part of the group. (I think starting him in the daycare program once a week has drastically improved his social skills.) He got attached to one little boy his age and they climbed to the top of the slide tower, he looked out and pointed at me and said, "Look! That's MY Mommy!". I couldn't have been happier. And I'm definitely looking forward to going to the playground next time.
The first person to catch my eye was an extremely obese mom (maybe grandmother??) who had a midly scrawny child with her. Now, don't get your undies in a wad; I do accept people of all sizes, colors, and yadda yadda. My problem was that this particular mom happened to take up half the bench and was shoveling Burger King onion rings in her mouth to the point where her cheeks puffed out. I'm not a fan of people who just sit and continue to destroy their bodies and show their children it's ok to follow suit. I'll readily admit I still have some baby fat after 4 months of giving birth, which I'm ok with, but I manage to be able to run and play with my children and function well. If nothing else, it's nice to be able to function, right?
Let's move along to stylish mama. I had to keep from bursting out laughing at the "hot mama" who actually did wear a nice black top with tasteful white shorts. It was a cute get up that could've been worn out to lunch with girlfriends or whatever, until you see that she was wearing those stupid looking toe shoes and a cream knit winter hat. It was 82 degrees today and I had to double check my memory bank to make sure that it is May. I guess you do what you have to do in the name of fashion.
On the swings a mother started arguing with her daughter, who looked about 8 years old, for like 20 minutes about wearing shoes on the playground. Maybe I'm niave about parenting, but that whole argument I listened to seemed foolish. I would assume that after 8 years of being around and learning about the most important person in your life (your child), you would know what tactics work to get the required results. Every child is different, I understand, so maybe one child needs firm guidance while another just needs a quiet whisper in the ear to keep them on track, maybe explaining the rationale when you make a request, or any tactic in between. It's hard to say what a kid needs, but you grow as a parent as the child grows and you really learn each other.
Watching that incident made me recall the last time I was there playing on the swings with Gavin. I little 5 year old girl came up and began to use the swing next to me. She was there with her mother who stayed on her cell phone the whole time. As we were swinging the little girl started to cry. I'm not sure why, and her mother just continued pushing her higher and higher with one hand while carrying on her conversation with her mobile in the other hand. From what I gathered, as the lady wasn't any good at keeping her conversation private, she was a German woman who was divorcing a military man and was telling her friend how she was planning to take all she could from him. Lovely sentiment for your daughter to hear!
Now, the funniest person of the day award goes to a little girl who absolutely stomped on the playground brat. Bratty girl wanted to play superheroes, which was cool with the other girl, until Bratty wanted to be Wonder Woman. The other girl started to quiz her on her knowledge of Wonder Woman and when she failed the quiz the title of Wonder Woman was usurped. That girl started rattling off facts about the superhero and totally schooled Bratty who had to give up the the character. I couldn't help but chuckle.
The best part of the whole outing was watching Gavin play with all the other kids and really being a part of the group. (I think starting him in the daycare program once a week has drastically improved his social skills.) He got attached to one little boy his age and they climbed to the top of the slide tower, he looked out and pointed at me and said, "Look! That's MY Mommy!". I couldn't have been happier. And I'm definitely looking forward to going to the playground next time.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Another year
So my little bugger is turning three tomorrow. I'm going through the classic shell shock that every parent experiences. Where's the time gone? How have I molded him so far? Is he becoming a strong person or am I making a mess of this parenthood thing? I should quit wondering because I'll never know until it's too late. Though I know better than to waste time worrying, I'm neurotic and obsessive, so I'll continue freely. But, was I really ready for this? Hell no. Please add impulsive to the list of "Jenn's character flaws". I lept into having children because it felt right and good. It seemed like the most magnificent thing to be able to do. Boy, was I in for surprises of all sorts.
I don't handle messes or loud noises well. I hate having my hair pulled. Don't rush me or boss me around. Forget being too touchy-feely. And, screw you modern day Nickelodeon--you take away Salute Your Shorts, you take away my loyalty.
Yet, here I am in a routine of constantly cleaning up whatever that mysterious sticky substance was from the patio door and listening to squeals so high pitched it could make a dog want to cry in pain. My hair gets ripped out in chunks just for funsies and I'm a human jungle gym. Worst of all, I must bear these stupid new shows of Nickelodeon and participate in the songs. (Well, maybe I don't hate it as much as I say.)
I get zero time to myself and even my shower time isn't a private affair. If I have something in mind I'd like to buy for myself, I usually end up taking the allotted money and spending it on things for the kids. And forget about having a date night with my husband! I can't seem to allow myself to get a babysitter to go out for a movie due to the guilty feelings it invokes. While it sounds all negative, it's not. These things can be frustrating and exhausting at times and I won't be fake and pretend like it doesn't get under my skin sometimes. But, overall, I enjoy feeling needed, and even better still, I feel wanted.
Nobody can make you feel as good as your child can, I think. You always look beautiful in your child's eyes even if you're a mess. They make all the mistakes ok because they're only interested in today. (Wish I could take a lesson in that.) So, when I look at them, I silently tell myself not to fuck this up because, really, they're all that matters. I mean, who else is going to change MY diapers when I get old and zombie-esque?
I wish I could adequately express to my children how much they're loved and how thankful I am for them. They should know how special they are and that they make others around them feel special, too. Thank you, Gavin "Smiley" Riley, for keeping me on my toes with your unusually smart arguments, dance parties, and dino/snake battles. Thank you for reminding me to have patience, to forgive and learn, as well as to use everything as a teaching tool. It's been 3 amazing years and many more to come.
Now, I need to go build a pen for some plastic cows and horses. Yeehaw!
"I'm feeling rough, I'm feeling raw
I'm in the prime of my life..."
-MGMT, Time to Pretend
I don't handle messes or loud noises well. I hate having my hair pulled. Don't rush me or boss me around. Forget being too touchy-feely. And, screw you modern day Nickelodeon--you take away Salute Your Shorts, you take away my loyalty.
Yet, here I am in a routine of constantly cleaning up whatever that mysterious sticky substance was from the patio door and listening to squeals so high pitched it could make a dog want to cry in pain. My hair gets ripped out in chunks just for funsies and I'm a human jungle gym. Worst of all, I must bear these stupid new shows of Nickelodeon and participate in the songs. (Well, maybe I don't hate it as much as I say.)
I get zero time to myself and even my shower time isn't a private affair. If I have something in mind I'd like to buy for myself, I usually end up taking the allotted money and spending it on things for the kids. And forget about having a date night with my husband! I can't seem to allow myself to get a babysitter to go out for a movie due to the guilty feelings it invokes. While it sounds all negative, it's not. These things can be frustrating and exhausting at times and I won't be fake and pretend like it doesn't get under my skin sometimes. But, overall, I enjoy feeling needed, and even better still, I feel wanted.
Nobody can make you feel as good as your child can, I think. You always look beautiful in your child's eyes even if you're a mess. They make all the mistakes ok because they're only interested in today. (Wish I could take a lesson in that.) So, when I look at them, I silently tell myself not to fuck this up because, really, they're all that matters. I mean, who else is going to change MY diapers when I get old and zombie-esque?
I wish I could adequately express to my children how much they're loved and how thankful I am for them. They should know how special they are and that they make others around them feel special, too. Thank you, Gavin "Smiley" Riley, for keeping me on my toes with your unusually smart arguments, dance parties, and dino/snake battles. Thank you for reminding me to have patience, to forgive and learn, as well as to use everything as a teaching tool. It's been 3 amazing years and many more to come.
Now, I need to go build a pen for some plastic cows and horses. Yeehaw!
"I'm feeling rough, I'm feeling raw
I'm in the prime of my life..."
-MGMT, Time to Pretend
Monday, February 27, 2012
Old photos.
I've finally found a few minutes to myself to catch up on things. I think I would go insane if it weren't for the most wonderful time of day: naptime. I'm lucky to have the boys on the same nap and sleep schedules.
Nick's mom left to go back to her home in the States last week. Yes, I was kind of heartbroken. It's not so much about having someone here to help chase after my rascals, but more about having the company around. Our house is just too big for the 4 of us and it was nice to have someone around to help fill the house. Besides the lack of adult company, things are going smoothly with only me and the boys at home all day. I feel pretty good about things and that I was able to push myself through that nasty postpartum crapola makes me feel confident.
We've done a little more traveling. Most of the travel plans were propelled by Nick's mother being here and we wanted to get her out to see a bit of Germany before she had to leave. We took day trips down to Heidelburg to see the castle. Unfortunately it was so cold and windy that day that it burned your nose and fingers so I stayed in the car with Baby Hux while everyone did a little sightseeing. I wasn't at all upset about staying in the car because I've got 2 1/2 more years to see the castle and I'd rather not risk letting the baby get an ear infection. (I was extremely prone to them as a child and I've been told by pediatricians that the susceptibility will pass onto the children.) The weekend before she left we all went to Trier to do some exploring with a pair of her friends. The weather wasn't as miserable, but as a sidenote, you really need to wear good shoes. All that walking on cobblestone in "cute" shoes isn't reasonable. Whew! I'll never pull a stunt like that again.
I recently was given a disc of pictures from my German relatives. The pictures were of my German grandparents and of my mother and aunt. I haven't met my aunt and my grandfather passed away just a few weeks before I arrived in Germany so I didn't get to meet him either. Well, technically I should say I didn't get to meet him as an adult. My mother had me here and raised me here until I was a year and a half, then we moved to the States where I would be raised by my American grandparents. Point is, I never got to really get to know my family and I was really upset not to get the chance to meet him. Everyone tells me stories of how he would always call me his Jenny and really loved having me around.
I like looking at the photos of my family that I'm starting to get to know. I laughed a bit looking at the ones of my mother, who would have been 9 years old in the pictures, at some type of Communion parade all dressed in white with a small purse and headband. I could see how my younger half brother looks just like her. Now for anyone who doesn't know already, I'm very open about the deteriorated relationship I have with my parents, especially my mother. It's not an attempt at complaining about it, but I say it the same way as I would talk to someone about the weather. I simply don't care, which is why I was so taken aback by feeling something when I looked at those pictures. Pity? Sadness? Anger? I'm not sure what it was, but it wasn't a happy feeling. It was weird. How could I feel bad or sad for this person who takes her life frustrations out on me for no reason? Who doesn't even call to see how I am when I've recently given birth? Oh God, here I go sounding bitter, but it's not bitterness. It's confusion. I cannot wrap my head around what the hell has happened between us and why am I the only one who seems to ever wonder about it?
I've been thinking that I want to call her to see how she is doing. I've been trying to come up with excuses as to why she hasn't called or written or emailed. Maybe she doesn't have long distance (I do have a vonage line, but it's not her area code), and maybe she cut off her internet to save money since she never uses a computer, and it's hard to write a letter when you care for 2 kids and work all day. I try to give the benefit of the doubt, but I know I'm making excuses for her and if I do call she'll just end up whining at me about how bad things are going and how she has no time to talk to me. I do try to hold on to hope of at least being friendly, as I am with my father. Between my father and me, we don't have expectations of each other, except to call once every few months and say "I'm alive and ok". It has become quite nice, actually. So, here's to hoping I can get to that point with my mother. I won't stop hoping for it because every so often she laughs. She rarely laughs, but when she does it's loud and infectious.
Talking about this bores me after awhile. Plus, I'm hungry now. Watching Spongebob and having a snack really takes precedence over thinking about things like this. Animal crackers anyone?
Nick's mom left to go back to her home in the States last week. Yes, I was kind of heartbroken. It's not so much about having someone here to help chase after my rascals, but more about having the company around. Our house is just too big for the 4 of us and it was nice to have someone around to help fill the house. Besides the lack of adult company, things are going smoothly with only me and the boys at home all day. I feel pretty good about things and that I was able to push myself through that nasty postpartum crapola makes me feel confident.
We've done a little more traveling. Most of the travel plans were propelled by Nick's mother being here and we wanted to get her out to see a bit of Germany before she had to leave. We took day trips down to Heidelburg to see the castle. Unfortunately it was so cold and windy that day that it burned your nose and fingers so I stayed in the car with Baby Hux while everyone did a little sightseeing. I wasn't at all upset about staying in the car because I've got 2 1/2 more years to see the castle and I'd rather not risk letting the baby get an ear infection. (I was extremely prone to them as a child and I've been told by pediatricians that the susceptibility will pass onto the children.) The weekend before she left we all went to Trier to do some exploring with a pair of her friends. The weather wasn't as miserable, but as a sidenote, you really need to wear good shoes. All that walking on cobblestone in "cute" shoes isn't reasonable. Whew! I'll never pull a stunt like that again.
I recently was given a disc of pictures from my German relatives. The pictures were of my German grandparents and of my mother and aunt. I haven't met my aunt and my grandfather passed away just a few weeks before I arrived in Germany so I didn't get to meet him either. Well, technically I should say I didn't get to meet him as an adult. My mother had me here and raised me here until I was a year and a half, then we moved to the States where I would be raised by my American grandparents. Point is, I never got to really get to know my family and I was really upset not to get the chance to meet him. Everyone tells me stories of how he would always call me his Jenny and really loved having me around.
I like looking at the photos of my family that I'm starting to get to know. I laughed a bit looking at the ones of my mother, who would have been 9 years old in the pictures, at some type of Communion parade all dressed in white with a small purse and headband. I could see how my younger half brother looks just like her. Now for anyone who doesn't know already, I'm very open about the deteriorated relationship I have with my parents, especially my mother. It's not an attempt at complaining about it, but I say it the same way as I would talk to someone about the weather. I simply don't care, which is why I was so taken aback by feeling something when I looked at those pictures. Pity? Sadness? Anger? I'm not sure what it was, but it wasn't a happy feeling. It was weird. How could I feel bad or sad for this person who takes her life frustrations out on me for no reason? Who doesn't even call to see how I am when I've recently given birth? Oh God, here I go sounding bitter, but it's not bitterness. It's confusion. I cannot wrap my head around what the hell has happened between us and why am I the only one who seems to ever wonder about it?
I've been thinking that I want to call her to see how she is doing. I've been trying to come up with excuses as to why she hasn't called or written or emailed. Maybe she doesn't have long distance (I do have a vonage line, but it's not her area code), and maybe she cut off her internet to save money since she never uses a computer, and it's hard to write a letter when you care for 2 kids and work all day. I try to give the benefit of the doubt, but I know I'm making excuses for her and if I do call she'll just end up whining at me about how bad things are going and how she has no time to talk to me. I do try to hold on to hope of at least being friendly, as I am with my father. Between my father and me, we don't have expectations of each other, except to call once every few months and say "I'm alive and ok". It has become quite nice, actually. So, here's to hoping I can get to that point with my mother. I won't stop hoping for it because every so often she laughs. She rarely laughs, but when she does it's loud and infectious.
Talking about this bores me after awhile. Plus, I'm hungry now. Watching Spongebob and having a snack really takes precedence over thinking about things like this. Animal crackers anyone?
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Taxes--AYYOOOO!
Maybe I am abnormal, but I look forward to every January to file taxes. Come the new year and I am foaming at the bit waiting for that W-2. This year was no different.
With our recent move to Germany, the expenses of moving, and a crappy exchange rate of dollars to euros, we are having to more careful with money than what we usually are. We try to keep our spending under control because we save all year long to buy plane tickets to the States to see our families and splurge then on frivolous items. It's the one time in the year we totally cut loose and do whatever feels good with our money. Looking at the end result, I have no problems refusing to buy silly extra things that I don't need throughout the course of the year. Then again, if I do find myself with a little extra cash it usually always goes to the boys and I prefer it that way.
Anyway, instead of saving our tax refund money, we are using the majority of it to pay off the balance on our car. This is terribly exciting to me (am I super boring or what?). I actually get a rush when a bill gets paid off. This will really start balancing things out better financially so we can get back to looking forward to vacations. In normal situations, I'm kind of a tightwad with money, so it will be nice to be in that mode for better reasons (like saving for those plane tickets!) instead of lame reasons like bills.
And I'm done talking about stupid money now. The end.
With our recent move to Germany, the expenses of moving, and a crappy exchange rate of dollars to euros, we are having to more careful with money than what we usually are. We try to keep our spending under control because we save all year long to buy plane tickets to the States to see our families and splurge then on frivolous items. It's the one time in the year we totally cut loose and do whatever feels good with our money. Looking at the end result, I have no problems refusing to buy silly extra things that I don't need throughout the course of the year. Then again, if I do find myself with a little extra cash it usually always goes to the boys and I prefer it that way.
Anyway, instead of saving our tax refund money, we are using the majority of it to pay off the balance on our car. This is terribly exciting to me (am I super boring or what?). I actually get a rush when a bill gets paid off. This will really start balancing things out better financially so we can get back to looking forward to vacations. In normal situations, I'm kind of a tightwad with money, so it will be nice to be in that mode for better reasons (like saving for those plane tickets!) instead of lame reasons like bills.
And I'm done talking about stupid money now. The end.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Getting There
Today has been a really good day. I keep on pushing myself to avoid getting stuck in my own head. It requires a lot of extraneous crap to occupy my mind because the minute I let my mind empty out the self doubt and depression creep on in. I truly feel that I understand the concept of being your own worst enemy, but I don't want to let it get the best of me.
We got up this morning and cut out some time while Adrian slept for Gavin and I to do some finger painting. I cut up an extra sponge to help paint but fingerpainting was much better. I helped Gavin paint out his name on some paper and I could tell he was really proud of it. It made me happy to be able to spend time with him like that, the way we used to before life got even more hectic. Gavin is such an interesting person already and I love his silly sense of humor. I don't want having a new baby around make us lose touch with one another and I don't want to forget what an amazing little dude he really is.
I've felt pretty productive lately. There's got to be an ending to frustrations and upset attitudes, and sitting around dwelling on it doesn't bring the end to those things. Sometimes you need to force yourself to laugh in order to bring about a genuine one.
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