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Saturday, June 26, 2010

Talk Is Cheap, Babe

I'm starting to feel a little better. It's only taken 3 whole days for this to happen. So much for my 24-hour bug theory. And then I had a HORRIBLE thought today..what if this is morning sickness?? I've never had morning sickness--nothing beyond a wave of nausea here and there, anyway. Can it really be that different with baby #5?

I have mixed feelings about starting to feel better. The obvious...it's great to be able to function again and actually get some things done. But I'm actually a little pissy that I'm starting to feel better now that Joe is starting vacation. So, there will be no recuperating time or being pampered a bit (which, if you know my husband, you know that's kind of a joke anyway.) He'll be the first to tell you that his bedside manner lacks quite a bit.

I'm on a rampage tonight for moms. Moms who don't get a break, who don't even have the luxury of being sick and getting the rest needed to feel better. Um...like me. A little selfish, yes. I am probably pretty guilty right now of feeling sorry for myself, but I'm gonna go with it for a minute since it's the ONLY "me" time I've had since getting the Bubonic Plague on Thursday morning.

I don't count laying on the couch while my kids take turns coming up to me and saying things like, "Why aren't you walking at all?" or "Why do you keep taking naps every day?" *slap*

Not really. I didn't have the energy to even scold them for asking. Plus, they're just kids. They don't get it. Their every need is met, usually upon the first request.

Now, my husband, on the othe rhand, may get the full brunt of my fury tonight. Any guy readers out there? I have some advice for you. Don't tell your wife that you love her and feel so sorry that she feels so sick, yet leave her alone all day while she lays on the couch and contemplates writing her last will and testament. Certainly, don't do it 3 days in a row. Doing that will earn you one of a few things (or ALL for the especially lucky): the silent treatment, a verbal smackdown, or some chilly nights, if you know what I mean. Honestly, I don't take away one iota from the man's responsibilities and his need to go out in the workforce everyday to bring home the bacon (and this is speaking solely to those people in my situatiuon where the husband works outside the home and the wife stays at home...working harder. Ha Ha! Just kidding.) But seriously, a word to the wise...talk is cheap. You can tell her you care until you're blue in the face, but if you continually leave her alone, dying on the sofa, with children running all about, virtually unattended to...for 3 days straight...without so much as an attempt to make other arrangements, you can count on some venom coming your direction. At least that's my prediction.

Let me just pause for a commercial break right here. My husband, Joe, is truly a wonderful man. He's a great father, husband, and human being. But sometimes...I just have to vent, you know? Believe me, I am well aware that my life could be so much worse and that I, myself, have so many of my own faults, but since this is my blog, I'm going to air my thoughts. Joe will have to get his own blog to air mine.

Anyway. Here it is, 9:30 at night on Saturday, and I'm waiting for him to get home. I bathed the kids and put them all in bed--all while taking little breaks to sit or lay down--and now I'm waiting for him to bring me home something to eat. I haven't eaten much in the past 3 days and I cannot wait to sink my teeth into some Chicken Tortilla soup.

I promise there won't be too many more posts where all you read is my whining. Well, I'll try anyway. Can't promise.

But here's to all you single moms and moms whose husbands travel a lot or are overseas. I salute you! I don't know how you do it (but I get a pretty good idea with our family's current situation and my husband's horrid work schedule.) I truly admire you all-especailly if you are able to hold it together without exploding all over your spouse or kids.

And thank you for listening. I promise I'm usually a very warm and caring individual (well, at least I think so).

Friday, June 25, 2010

Holy Crap, Was It The Plague?

I have been sicker than the proverbial dog these past two days. I haven't been this sick in over 2 years! The last time I was this out of it, I had to beg Joe to come home early from work because I literally could not lift my head off the pillow. He came in the door to what he called the "crack house" of pictures askew, toys, pillows, food, etc all over the place. The baby was in her exersuacer, happily, thank God, but the boys were running around like crazed animals.

This time, the situation was similar, only Joe didn't come home from work early (or offer to stay home, which prompted a big shouting match today, but that's another story for another time) so when he waltzed through the door after 1 AM this morning, he found me exactly where he'd left me 10 hours earlier--on the couch in the same clothes I had worn for the past 2 days. Bed head does not even begin to describe what I had and let's not even discuss the breath I was sporting that required a Haz-Mat suit just to get near. There were things all over the floor that I don't even remember seeing before: Food. Blankets. Books. Just random crap. Toys. The worst part? I don't actually know what my 1 year old did all day. I had Joe gate the kitchen before he left for work, so I know he was safe from falls or getting hurt, but he scooted around on his belly (because he refuses to crawl) all day while I fell in and out of that dazed sleep that happens when you are so sick you feel like you're dying. A little bit of hallucination, etc. Thank goodness for R and L (the 5 and 4 year olds). They are such big helpers. I would open my eyes every so often and yell out "What's M doing?" and wait for the boys to answer. Isn't that pathetic? And if anyone is gonna give me grief for his "safety being in jeopardy," you can bite me and or come over next time and take the kids for a while so I can actually get some rest.

Somehow, I scraped myself off the couch long enough to put a pot of water on to boil, then I ran back to the couch. I got up again when it boiled and added the macaroni, set the timer for 7 minutes and ran back to the couch. When the timer went off, it is surely by the grace of God that I was able to make macaroni and cheese, butter some bread and serve it and sit up long enough to feed the baby. I made him a bottle, and somehow got everyone upstairs to bed. Then you know what I did? That's right-I went back down to the couch. (I must have been pretty delirious not to go to my bed at that point...)

The rest of the day is a blur. I changed diapers and made bottles/got drinks as necessary and got them in bed at bedtime, but we skipped brushing teeth since I couldn't stand that long and FINALLY got everyone tucked in. E decided she was going to continue screaming at me that she didn't want to go to sleep. I was this close to caving and giving her the bottle. I would have bought her a new car at that moment. ANYTHING to get some peace. I begged. I pleaded. I tried to reason. And then I settled on threatening her. It worked.

And then I passed out.

I woke up when Joe came in the door. I apologized (half-heartedly) for the mess and then got up to go to bed. This morning, I woke up with the worst case of couch back ever. I thought I was back with the living, but realized too soon that whatever I have is lingering just a bit longer. Prayers are welcome. I don't say that lightly. A mom truly never gets sick days, does she?

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

I'm On A Mission, Y'all

For the past several months I have been struggling to maintain this blog. I have gone dry, so to speak, and have trouble finding my muse.

I blamed it on being busy, the kids, and finding out I'm pregnant, babysitting, etc, etc.

But the truth is, when I first started writing this, I was on fire. I know none of you read waaay back then, but that's okay. It was between me and the random 2 people a month who stumbled across it when they surfed Blogger. I was fearless then because I didn't know anyone reading it. Now, with 138 known readers and the unknown amount who tune in, I find that I am held back by one thing: fear. That ugly monster who gnaws away at you at night and makes you second guess everything.

I had the first taste of it when I started publishing it on facebook. It was terrifying. I would literally break out in a cold sweat thinking about my personal thoughts being out there for anyone and everyone, but worst of all...my friends and family. These are the people who I interact with on a daily basis. The people who knew me "when" and what would they possibly think of me while I was sharing the sage and wonderful wisdom I was encountering in my Bible reading. My facebook page says, "Christian, not ashamed" in the info section, but the truth is, I am afraid. Moreso, I am petrified.

I want to be liked. I want to be understood. I want to fit in. And that means (in my twisted and warped thinking) that means that I don't stand out or rock the boat. It means that I don't say things that could offend or upset others. It also means that surely I don't share things that I have experienced or gone through that may cause others to look down on me or think less of me. Things that could embarrass me. Ah ha! So the culprits are fear and pride. Two deadly ingredients.

So, I have been feeling more convicted lately that I have a job to do and this blog is the way I am to do it. Or one way, at least. Stay with me friends, it could get interesting.

I'm not a fanatic. I don't drink koolaid, and I don't handle snakes, so you can rest assured that I am truly like you (well, maybe not YOU, but you and you *pointing*).

I'm ready. I think. Are you?

Some who know me know most of this about me already. Some of you know all of it. And some of you know none of it and may raise an eyebrow or two. But that's okay. We can use the things we experience to help others, right? So, who knows, maybe this crazy journey I call my life can be helpful to someone else.

And to family and friends (who shall remain nameless) if anything upsets or angers you that I may share. I apologize for that, but I think this is the direction my writing is supposed to head...Real. True. Relevant.

Stay tuned for the new (and improved ?) REAL MandyP!

Monday, June 21, 2010

My Day of Halves

I'm running into the problem that so many bloggers do...the things I most want to blog about I can't for fear the subject of my rant blog is a reader! Arrrgh! (Now I'll have all of my friends and family scratching their heads windering if I'm talking about them!)

The things I have been encountering on a daily basis are things that we all experience and talk about in our mom circles...the things that drive us bonkers. The things that we roll our eyes about and nod at one another as if to say, "Uh huh, I know. Insane" or "Seriously?!"

And I can't talk about it here!

What I can talk about is my day of "halves" the other day. I went to a seminar with my friend. The speaker was a good frined of hers and he was speaking on something that interests me. There was no fee and free childcare. Sign me up! I unloaded all 4 kiddos in the nursery where 2 very nice ladies played with them and assured me they would have a great time. I made myself a wonderful plate of fresh fruit salad and grabbed a yummy cup of juice before settling in, ready to be engaged. I made it all the way through the opening segment and had just arrived at the workshop--the meat of the entire talk--when I saw my daughter's round little face and curls poke around the corner. She was melting down. I had to leave the room with her because she has no idea what "quiet" or "whisper" means. Consequently, I missed the entire second half of the seminar.

Me and E.
Afterward, my friend and I went to my husband's restaurant for lunch. We were settled in a quiet back room-just us-- and ordered up an awesome lunch of tortellini and a side of fries (the baby wanted it! I'm blaming it totally on pregnancy hormones) when E started acting up again. She was tantruming and whining and basically driving me crazy. Finally, I got her to sit on my lap and eat with me when our food arrived. She was munching away on her 1000 grapes, my tortellini and her bread. I was feeding my face as best I could with one hand as well and everyone was happy.

Until E puked all over the front of herself, me, and the floor. It was unbelieveable. She was like Old Faithful. It. Just. Wouldn't. Stop! I did my best to cover her face with a napkin to shield her from the other 2 diners who had just been seated in our "private" section. I think she must have heaved at least 5 times. I didn't know she had even eaten some of the stuff that came back up.

I frantically calmly had my friend flag down my husband just as our server came back to see if we needed anything. Poor guy. Imagine his suprise when I asked for several towels and he got a load (and a whif!) of the both of us! Joe brought me a chef's coat that I changed into so I could make it out of the restaurant. I did my best to clean up, but I fear that place needs a professional steam cleaning now. And I looked longingly at my lunch--half finished. The funny thing about all of this? Immediately when her retching finished, she started in on my french fries and told everyone within earshot, "Guess what? I frew up on my shirt!" There she sat, naked except for a diaper, with only a napkin around her little shoulders. I didn't think to bring her a change of clothes. I thought she was past that stage. Another lesson learned!



I planned a nap when I got home, but because there was horrible traffic, everyone fell asleep in the car and I worried they wouldn't sleep when we got home. I needn't have worried, though since everyone crashed for at least 2 hours. R (our 5 year old) slept from 4:00PM until the next morning at 6! I was surprised thinking his sleepover the night before must have really wiped him out--until later that day when he threw up all over the living room floor..twice. So apparently we had like a 15 minute bug in our house. How weird!

What has been going on in your life lately? What kinds of things would you blog about if you were anonymous?

Thursday, June 17, 2010

It's official-I'm pregnant

It can officially be official because the little test I peed on in the doctor's office matched the results I got from the 5 tests I took at home.

It's been almost exactly a year since little M was born and it was my [almost] annual pilgrimage to the OB's office to say 'I'm pregnant...again!" I think Joe and I single- handedly have sent my OB on vacay all around the world twice with all the pregnancies he's seen me through and babies he's delivered. I think this guy should at least be buying me a drink by now with the level of intimacy we've reached.

Today was a doozy. I was scheduled in an office other than the one I have been frequenting since 2004 because the darn call center couldn't seem to fit me in at my usual office until August (WTfeak?) so I got lost finding it (could they have made the sign any smaller?!) and then was greeted with the fantastic news that not only was I due for a pap, but a breast exam as well. It doesn't matter how many times I've done this, it's never comfortable. It's nearly impossible to make small talk while someone is looking at your hoo-ha under those horrid fluorescent lights. I know it's necessary, but c'mon...

I also found out that I will have to deliver at a different hospital than where I've delivered my previous 4 babies. Say what?! We'll have to put together a whole new route! Joe was upset too. His response: "Man! We know where all the good restaurants are already!" Obviously, only one of us enjoys dining on hospital food.

We joke that delivery is our annual vacation. It's not really a joke though. It's too darn close to the truth! Those blessed 3 days and 2 nights I spend in the hospital are the closest thing I get to a vacation away from the kiddos' constant needs, questions, and fighting. OH, believe me, I miss them TERRIBLY while I'm in there, but then they come visit, tear up my room, and leave a mess in their wake while I try to apologize away their craziness to other patients and nurses. Once, my family (in-laws, sister, kids and all) actually got politely asked to leave! I can't help it we're a loud family!

Who wouldn't want a vacay in the OB wing of the hospital? I mean, they have 15 whole channels on cable (including my favorite, the hospital channel, where they make you watch the "Shaken Baby" video and sign a release form before you're discharged.) I turned it on one night before we went to bed and it played all. night. long. We think the nurses must have been pretty impressed by our dedication.

Instead of a turn-down service, they have nurses who come into your room at 2 am, turn on your light, and stick a thermometer up your mouth, a needle in your arm, and make you roll on your side so they can "check your bottom." No privacy. No dignity. Gone.

On my last visit, I think the shine had worn off for me and the staff alike. They didn't even insist they wheel me to my car when I was discharged. They let me walk! Do you believe that? I even had stitches!

So....maybe this new hospital won't be a bad thing. I've heard it's more intimate. It will be interesting. I wonder if they have those freaky robots that travel the floor at all hours of the day and night like my usual place does...

Friday, June 11, 2010

Do As I Say, Not As I Do

 Sometimes my own hypocrisy as a mother floors me. I am NO fan of lying, bending the truth, fibbing, or "exaggerating" (Read: Lying) although I DO embellish (notice the slight variation from exaggerate, ahem) and I am noticing more and more that I am a flat out hypocrite when I'm desperate.

I'm not proud of that.

Today, for example, I was smack in the middle of being exhausted, nauseous and wanting nothing more than to get in bed and curl up. With 4 kids running around, wrestling on my bed, and jumping on and over me, that was a pipe dream. Nevertheless, I did my best to cuddle in my comforter in the hopes of catching a few winks, even just a quick doze.

I was SO desperate, in fact, that I allowed my kids to do things that just earlier today I said they were never to do again. E likes to get her basket of barrettes out and spread them all over her bedroom floor. It's great fun for her, but makes for a pierced foot and lots of unflattering faces and muffled cursing by me at 3 AM. The boys like to play with the bobble heads their dad has collected over the years for them, but they tend to break them. Every single one now looks like it just returned from a tour in 'Nam.

Sooooooo, today, as I was miserable and pleading with God to allow me 15 minutes to rest, I found myself not only allowing them to do these things, but actually suggesting that they do them! That's pathetic. It sends such a mixed message. I really, really hate that.

But I was so sick.

I'm pleading with the jury for leniency. And may I just add that Joe worked a stretch today, so he left at 9  AM and won't get home until...I don't even know when... but it's already 10:00 PM now...

I'm throwing myself on the mercy of the court.

I realize as I think about this that I do it in other areas with the kids too. For example, [I think] we've finally broken E of the bottle. Yes, she's 2 1/2, but we've had some false alarms with breaking in the past 6 months or so. Every time I tried to break cold turkey she stopped wetting her diapers (YES...she's STILL in diapers, give a girl a break, okay?!) so I automatically feared dehydration. Joe and I freaked out one night after the 3rd dry dipe in a row so he ran over to Giant Eagle and bought a new bottle...since she's a bottle snob and only likes one specific kind...and I dashed upstairs, woke her up, and pleaded with her to drink it. Nothing like offering a smoke to someone trying to quit smokng, right? But the relief I felt watching her finally drink: Priceless.

So , I notice that when she wakes up at 2 or 3 in the morning and cries for a bottle, I don't know if it's the sheer exhaustion, the weak spirit, or the fact that I would buy her a car if only to get back to sleep, but I cave. Every. Time. How's that for a mixed message? She knows that if she cries loud enough and long enough (and boy can she ever, diva that she is), mommy will cave. Mommy may yell a little and say some not very nice things, but she will cave. She has me totally figured out. I never wanted to be one of those moms. But here I am.

Today I think we started off right. We all decorated a package to put her "babas" in to send up to Heaven with the Baba fairy who will deliver them to all the babies in Heaven who don't have babas. (Please don't question me on the legitimacy of the story! NO, I don't believe in fairies, and I'm pretty sure babies in Heaven don't need bottles, but it's a concept she can understand.)

So, we put her babas in the package and put them in the mailbox. She knows that "Mr. Mailman" will pick them up and send them to Heaven in a special balloon. (Man. I am just telling one whopper after another to this kid, aren't I??)

Anyway, we did the send off and then let her pick out a brand spanking new "sicky cup" (aka: sippy cup) at Target and she is now officially a "big grill." She went to bed with no fuss (thank you, Lord) and I think we may have done it! Cross your fingers!

Here are some pictures we took of depositing the baba package in the mailbox, and her new sippy cup in action.

Wow. All of my babies are getting so big.

Next hurdle: potty training Miss Thing. THIS should be interesting. Thank God we have hardwoods!




Thursday, June 10, 2010

A Penny For Your Thoughts

I'm only 8 weeks along (tomorrow!) but I feel about 5 months along! I've heard that you show quicker with each pregnancy, but this is ridiculous! My pants are unbuttoning without my permission and I'm winded just from getting off the couch. I vacillate between exhausted, nauseous, and fine all day long. Funny, after 4 other babies, I don't remember it being this way in the beginning.

Don't misunderstand me, I am SOOOOOO lucky in comparison to some mommies. I don't get the pukes (knock on wood) and I have relatively easy pregnancies, but it is wiping me out!

On a side note, my 2 oldest boys went on their very first unchaperoned playdate today. How fun! They went to a little friend's house a few blocks away and played for several hours. It was so nice and so sad all at the same time! My babies are growing up...

One of my very favorite blogger friends was recently inducted into the blogger's hall of pain with some nasty comments. Some people can be just downright rude. Really? I want to say to those people, "You find it necessary to call someone an idiot or a fat ass?" I just don't get that. Who knew that reading someone else's (random and unassuming) blog thoughts could incite such hatred. Man. Makes me just want to throat punch them. (thanks, Supah! LOVE that phrase!) And, yes...I recognize the irony...

So what's going on with all of YOU? Is anyone there? As I'm writing this sometimes I'm overcome with insecurity and feeling like the girl standing in front of the classroom with her skirt tucked into her underwear. Does anybody actually care enough to read this crap I write?

Sunday, June 6, 2010

You Say It's Your Birthday? (NANANANANA) It's My Birthday Too!

So, yes, 33 years ago today I entered this world. I don't remember much of it, but from what I've heard, it was a stressful and almost fatal ordeal.

Today has been great. We started the day with church, then brunch with my in-laws and then a loooong, glorious nap. *sigh* The stuff dreams are made of (at least in my world.)

My parents called and sang Happy Birthday, as they have every year. =)

After dinner, I served up the cake my mother-in-law made for me (FunFetti with yummy pink frosting!) and ice cream. The kids sang Happy Birthday (all off key. It was beautiful!) and we dug in. So sweet.

Unfortunately, Joe had to work tonight. We missed him,  but he gave me the most beautiful card and a balloon. Greatest guy EVER!

Facebook singlehandedly stunned me with all of the friend birthday wishes! I felt like such a celebrity today!

I can't believe how much I've changed in these 33 years. Can't imagine who I'll be in the next 33!

Thank you to everyone who has been and is in my life. You make me who I am. The good. The bad. And the ugly! HAHAHA!

*Image from Google Images

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Another Country Heard From

So where the heck have I been?

I'll tell you. I've been here, at home, up to my neck in babies and poop. So, the usual.

But I've recently added a 6 month old to the crew. I'm babysitting.

And yes, I AM crazy.

Sooooooo, I now have my 4 (constantly) and one extra Monday through Friday and I think I'm definitely losing my mind. More accurately, I think it's already gone.

I'm really kicking my own butt to get this Macaroni Kid venture going and it's taking off. It's very exciting. Not to mention that I went to my first networking group meeting tonight. I was giddy with the joy of being away from the house without the kiddos. So giddy that I almost overlooked the booger on the front of my blouse the entire evening. *sigh* Kids.

I took all 4 crazies with me shopping the other day. We went to our usual stomping grounds: Target. As I was perusing some of the racks, I heard my boys giggling like school girls and when I looked behind me to see what all the commotion was about, what do I see? Oh, only my two sons standing in front of the full length mirror with their pee-pees hanging out. I'm so proud. I'm merely stock-piling all of these stories for one glorious day when I unleash them for full humiliation. Such is the job of a mom. Paybacks, kids. Paybacks.

I've missed you all. I'm sorry I've been missing in action. Although, by the looks of my stats, you all continue to check in and read. Thank you for that! It does wonders for my desire to keep writing.

Wish me luck now. I'm off to write a paper and it is THE last thing I want to do. Hopefully there won't be such a long span until my next post...
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