Tidings.

Salt meets Water
The deep
Saline
Brine

A heady cocktail
Of Shame and grace

Salt meets Water
A drop
Spills
Salves

A mercurial elixir
Of Grief and comfort

Salt meets Water
and the tide swells beyond the Keep

Mish-Mash.

Basically, these are all topics I'd planned on writing a blog each on, but realized I just didn't have the energy.

So I lazily cobbled this together!
(I really know how to SELL it, right?)

ANYway....

Struggling with depression in a big way.

The fatigue is even worse.

(I feel like my CFS is getting worse.
Hoping it's just pregnancy...)

Which is forms an ever-so-helpful film of uselessness that clings to my heart and mind these days, suffocating me.

Yay!

Depression and Chronic Fatigue are assholes.

Moving on...

Still radio silence on the employment front.

Applying/circulating to just about anything/anyone is still the name of the game.

Yet, we're having to weigh gas prices to pay to unemployment benefits, etc.

We've realized that over the last 5 years, we've fallen into the "desperation trap" taking crap jobs just for the sake of a job, rather than looking at the career-term picture...

Which has barely done anything to *really* help us.

Not that we're really in a position to be choosy at this point--

But we would like to break the cycle if we can.

Huz is taking some online classes in hopes of beefing up his skill-set from a resume perspective, but it's definitely not a quick-fix and there doesn't seem to be any opportunities forthcoming...

We're just holding on and hoping.

The childrens:

O is driving his mama and daddy to a sleep-deprived grave.

He's completely given up his nap, which he frankly did back in December when we put him in his big-boy bed, but I was in denial...

So yeah. No nap.

And?

He wakes up at 5:00-30 am no matter what.

We've tried early bed time, late bed time, sound machines, blackout shades, death threats (kidding!), everything.

Does not MATTAH.

7:30-8pm to 5:00-30am

Always.

With no nap.

My runs-his-ass-off-gets-CRANKY-when-sleepy Child.

We've considered dosing him, but figured that would just be a slippery slope...

We're working on consequences and following directions.

I think he's even more stubborn than me.

Ahem.

Baby P is moving and grooving in the womb, and making her mama very fat...okay, so it could be all the emotional eating...

In my defense?

Girlfriend kicks me 'til I eat.
No joke...

Hush.

All in all though, she'd healthy and working her way toward the finish line.

We have a 3D US scheduled for May 23rd which I'm excited about.

Can't wait to see her little faaaace!

My joints are killing me, and I've taken up residence in a recliner for the sleepings since late March, which sucks, but laying in bed is too painful.

The recliner is miiiiles better than the poang chair of O's gestation.

::shudder::

Mobility is rabidly escaping me.
Sigh.

But!
She's worth it, as was O.

Not sure it takes the sting off being able to feel stretch marks through my shirt though...

Ain't mudderhood grand?



To sum up:

Life, in a lot of ways, is a demoralizing mess, but it's got potential...

A good friend asked me the other day how life was, and I said:

"Well, we're broke and depressed, living at my in-laws with tiny people, but we still want to be married to each other, so that's gotta be good--right?"

And it is.

Hagatha Sluttine and other name ideas...

Naming a child is a pretty fucking big deal, if you think about it.

You are giving another human being their signature, for crying out loud...

So when you find a name you loooove?

You feel great about life. Obviously.

It's decided!
A weight is lifted!

You are all kinds of on top of this parental gig!

Yay!

Because of your joy and excitement, the shouting from the mountain tops begins!

That's when shit gets real, kids.

You see, when you share, there will sometimes be an alarmingly vocal amount of folks who take your jubilant declaration as a mere suggestion/lark, and will waste no time in telling you what you SHOULD name your child.

Why?

Your name choice sucks. Duh.

And if you are super-lucky, they'll even be gracious enough to tell you WHY.

So considerate.

When I was pregnant with my son, the concept blew me away.

How rude is that??
People really DO that??

I got lucky with O.

A few slight comments, but that was it.

Perhaps the whole "name hazing" thing was overblown....

And then I shared my daughter's name with a few family members.

"Why THAT name?!"

"So, you want people to make fun of her?"

"There are so many other CUTER names."

"Ugh. You need to pick something else!"

"Well, I just hope she doesn't come home from school crying..."


UMMMM. What.the.FUCK?

Look. I get it.

Everyone has their own tastes.

Maybe you hate the name I've picked for my daughter, I understand that.

Perhaps it is the last name on EARF you would consider, and it makes you sad that I would strap an innocent being with such a moniker...

That's your prerogative, as it were.

BUT...

There have been times where someone has happily shared their name choice with me, and inwardly, I groaned...

The key word here?
INWARDLY.
As in: to mydamnself.

See where I'm going here?

Because unless you are naming your daughter something pole/gang-worthy like Harlotte or Felonie?

(both true stories, folks)

It is not my place to stomp on the joy of your choice.

Or insult your parenting skills.

It's my job to smile and congratulate you on making such a meaningful decision.

You know, that whole "your child, your business meets basic manners" thing...


You don't have to agree with, enjoy or understand my choice, but you SHOULD avoid shitting all over it.

Not that it'll change my mind, but it will piss me off.


That being said:

If Harlotte of Felonie top your list, I will say something to you.

I'll try to be tactful, but I make no promises.

Mama Knows Best! Right?

Last week, my kid was "let go" from daycare.

(And it really fucked with my head.)


He doesn't need daycare because I stay home, but as a disabled sahm who can't drive, we don't get out a lot-- and I was worried that he wasn't socializing enough.

So in late December, we put him in this home-daycare twice a week for 3 hours (9a-12p) a day...

The lady who runs it is an acquaintance of the family, came highly recommended and most of her kids are full-timers, but we lucked out and she happened to have a morning open.

Extra bonus? We could (sorta) afford it!

All other things like this had been WAY outta our bracket...

It was fabulous.

He loved it, he loved her, and I loved that two days a week he was playing with someone other than Mommy.

Then last Wednesday, she texted me that she wanted to chat about some concerns she had...

I thought she probably wanted to talk about his sleep schedule, because she'd mentioned him being really sleepy lately.

We all know that a tired kid can be a cranky and trying kid, so I figured maybe she had some suggestions.

(If only I could get him to sleep past 5:30-6a! I have TRIED. His sleep schedule is a whoooole other post!)

But that wasn't it AT ALL...

When I called she started saying things like "too busy, too much, can't handle, safety worries," and then:

"It's just not working out."

For a moment I was confused...

What's not working?

Then I realized she meant my son.
Effective immediately.
Ouch.

What had he done wrong?
Had he intentionally hurt other kids?
Was he malicious?
Violent?!

Nope.

She just kept saying that he was too busy/active for her to deal with along with 4-5 other kids.

I understood that.

He is a very busy child.
He's super inquisitive.
He's quite independent.
He has no fear.
In wide-open spaces?
He loves to RUN.

And at just barely 2.5, following directions is not his strongest skill and gasp(!) he throws tantrums.

We warned her of all of that before she agreed to add him to her group.


Even so, I understood why maybe it wasn't a good fit...

I totally understood that she is one woman on her own with several other kids besides mine to care for.

I totally understood that she recognized that perhaps she didn't have the time nor stamina to keep tabs on yet another child.

I totally understood why she felt like it was in her best interest and that of her business to call it a day as far as my child was concerned.

But as I got off the phone with her, she mentioned that something about his mood swings...

Ummm, okay. Toddlers are universally moody given the day and timing of last snack...so I kinda shrugged the comment off.

Honestly?

I was way more focused on getting off the phone.

Hello! Awkward.

But when it was all said and done, I was really upset, and couldn't totally understand why...

After letting it eat at me for several days, I figured it out:

It was NOT because she decided it wasn't a good fit, it was that she was treating my son's behavior like it was somehow abnormal and cause for concern.

She even sent me a video to demonstrate, as she put it, "how quickly his moods would change..."

In the video, he was dancing around with a train and singing happily to himself.

Sounds fine, right?

The issue apparently was that all the other children were sitting on the floor playing blocks and just after she stopped filming he accidentally stepped on another child's hand while cutting a rug.

The poor kid starting crying, and O starting crying, and she tried to pull him away from from the situation presumably to calm the stepped-on child down...

Well, O threw a a tantrum.

This was apparently the last straw.
The vehemence of of his "emotional outbursts."

To me, his response was normal. He was upset. It upsets him when people get hurt.

So he was crying because the other kid was crying, and then to pull him away from the other kids/toys?

Of course he's going to freak out.

He's a toddler. It was as overwhelming for him as it was for the other child.


But she kept saying that it was just so unusual and that she didn't have this problem with the others...

A worm of self-doubt started wriggling...

I spent several days feeling like maybe I was a bad mother, maybe there was something wrong with my baby, maybe we had taught him bad behavioral habits and he was a tiny tyrant...

She is a lovely woman, and I'm sure that's not how she meant to make me feel, but no matter what the circumstances, no mother wants to hear that their child is the unhandle-able one. Or worse, that someone is "concerned" for him.

But I never want to be one of those "blind-eye" mamas, with the "not MY baby" response, so I analyzed everything I'd ever done as a mommy and really studied my son...

What was I not seeing? Doing? Teaching?

The answer?

Nothing.

My son IS indeed
a very busy child.
super inquisitive.
quite independent.
fearless.
a runner.
not the best direction-follower.
Sometime cranky tantrumer.

He's also wicked smart.

(even his daycare lady called him a baby genius. Ha!)

Funny.
and adorably affectionate.

He's all of those things and more.
He's a two and a half year-old boy.

He's trying to understand the world.

As an adult it can be a really frustrating, tantrum-causing place...

Imagine it from his tiny point-of-view.

And I finally remembered something:

No one knows my child the way I do.

Everyone you meet will have an opinion/advice/a rule for what your child should do or be, but at the end of the day?

No one knows MY baby like his mama.

Maybe he IS a handful, but not an out of the ordinary one.

In my opinion, he's pretty frikken awesome.

Still, I'm sad he can no longer go.
He loved it.

It's never easy to see something that makes your child smile taken away even if you (mostly) understand the reasoning behind it.



Parenting is complicated stuff, kids.

I no can haz moar cheezburger??!

Guys?

I don't really have anything to write about that isn't sorta sadsack.

So I don't really want to write anything.

Yet at the same time?

I could fill up a long rambly blog about what mills around in my head all day.

(Gonna try and endeavor to not put you lovely folks thru that)

I stay awake at night running through it, I think in the hopes that scrutinizing will somehow give me a clue to what is going to fix the problems that keep me awake in the first place.

There have been no breakthroughs in the case thus far...

Huz is still searching.
Our savings is draining
A daughter is coming.

And all that comes with that.

I've been feeling really guilty lately.
I'm tired and sore and depressed.

Beyond lazy in the wife and mommy department.

A total slacker in the documenting my pregnancy with Baby Girl department.


I have however, been Super Busy eatin' mah feelings!

I went to the OB today for the 6 month check up (I'm 23w 4 d) and I've gained 19lbs already.

Isn't that special??

My OB doesn't seem concerned, but I was kinda shocked.

I only gained 27lbs with O total!

I have no one to blame but myself...
Well, and the baby. Maybe.

I have been eating whatever the HELL I WANT.

I didn't do that last time.

I was so sick with him that my appetite never really reached optimum pregnancy voraciousness, but with this one?

Huuuungry all the tiiiiime.
(said to the tune of Party All the Time)

It's pretty much a free-for-all in my belllllleh!

Between all the crap we're dealing with, my joints killing me constantly, and spending my nights attempting to sleep in a recliner--

I feel like meals and yummy snacks are all I really have to look forward to right now.

And yes, I do know how pathetic that sounds.

It's true nonetheless.

Obviously, if I want to avoid looking like Jabba, I need to be better about what I'm shoveling down my gullet.

But....

Where is the fun and cheeseburgers in that?

Nowhere, THAT'S where.

I'm starving right now, btw...



Harrumph.




See?

A sadfuckingsack.

The Notorious B.I.N.K.

O was never supposed to be a binky baby.

But in trying to teach him to latch, the hospital nurses gave him one, and the love affair began...

A boy and his bink.
Inseparable.
ADORABLE.

Now, he's almost 2 and a half.

He still loooooves his bink.

In the last few months however, his bink is the thorn in my side.

It's the ONLY thing that calms him down.

It's a battle at mealtimes.

Also? The Huz had started throwing disapproving harrumphs in my general direction...

Friday night as he screamed at me because I took it out of his mouth for dinner, I decided I'd HAD it.

So I took binky and he didn't get it back.

I figured if we were able to go binky-less Fri-Sun, we would be free from the bondage of binky.

Simple, right?

(Silly, naive mommy.)

We made it through bed (after an epic meltdown) Friday night and all day Saturday.

He was miserable, I was miserable and Mr. Harrumphs-a-lot was suddenly singing the "he's just a baby" tune.

I felt like a monster, and my turncoat of a husband was not helping, but I was determined!

We were going to kick this habit!!

Saturday night, we put him down to bed and the hysterics ensued, but 20 minutes later he was asleep.

Success!
It was getting better!
It was WORKING!


You know, or not...

We went in to check on him before we went to bed, and guess who was happily snoring away in his bed with a bink stuck in his gob?

Yep.
My darling angelboy.
I swear he stashed that sucker...

Honestly?

I almost cried.

I felt like we were back at square one and all his tears were for nothing.

So we took it while he slumbered, and resolved to start tomorrow anew.

Hurray.

We made it till about 2pm this afternoon...

Huz decided he wanted to go to Disneyland.

(he's all sad-sack b/c our passes expire soon and we're not renewing)

I said nay to this excursion because it was supposed to be cold and rainy.

He insisted I was wrong, and off we went...

A couple hours later we were loading our wet and miserable selves back into the car.

Ahem.

O was soaked and tired, but not not so much so that he couldn't still be righteously pissed about leaving Mickey's House....

Awesome.

It was obvious that he needed to fall asleep, but he was fighting it with all his stubborn fury.

I caved, people.
I just did.

I was tired, drenched and pregnant.
30 minutes of screaming all the way home?

Fuck and NO.

So we gave him a bink.

Thirty Seconds.
I kid you not...
He was OUT.

We've now decided to only give it to him at nap/bedtime, removing it as soon as he falls asleep.

We hoping to then take it away at naptime and so on...

We'd tried this method before, to no avail, but maybe this will be more successful because he's a bit older...

He doesn't give a rip about rewards or binky boxes, paci-fairies, bigboy speeches or the like....

You put holes in it?
Whatevs.

He is COMMITTED.
And obstinate.
Basically, he's me.

Annnd we have a girl on the way?

I fear I have tread into deep shit...


Potty training may kill us all.
(He has ZERO interest in that, btw.)

Diapers for Everyone!!

Weekend Update....Sigh.

I'm having a serious blogging crisis, which I'm not even sure how to post about, so I'll get into that later...

Since it's been awhile though, I did want to check in--keep everybody updated on our ummmmm, errrrrm progress?

Yesterday was the one monthaversary of Huz' unemployment.
Obviously, it was an understated celebration....harumph.

He's been applying every day since he lost his job, he's been going to an employment resource center 2x a week, and he's been going to job fairs.

A dear friend even took the time to lend us her professional eye and rehauled his resume...

Annnnd, NADA.

Not even a call back.

As an added bonus?

My student loan payments went up another $200 a month.
(Found out that little gem out the day Husband lost his job.)

Sallie Mae doesn't give  a rat's ASS about my no-income situation.
I was basically told to pay up or default.

HELPFUL.

We're feeling GREAT about life.

It's only been a month, right?
Right?
Right....
(as I look nervously at my expanding belly)

We did qualify for unemployment, and got our first check in the mail today....

A whopping $342.00!

I'd laugh at the amount if we didn't need it so badly.

It's SOMETHING, so I have to focus on that.

My Medi-Cal situation is kiiiinda settled, in that I am eligible for prenatal MC, but not fully instated because their records still show that I have alternate coverage.


I dropped off our termination letter to the offices last week after FINALLY getting it from Kaiser (who took their sweet time), but when I called the MC offices, they said that the whole thing could take up to 20 business days to process....

Awesome!

So I'm in limbo, but my OB agreed to see me and just backdate for as long as he can.

Baby is doing well, and is healthy from what they can tell.

It's a GIRL btw (for those of you who don't follow facebook or twitter)!!

At least they're 90% sure it's a girl....

The last US I was able to have was right at 17wks, so they said it was a bit early, but the tech was super confident.

As she put it:
Nothing was popping UP. Ha!

I'll be 20 weeks on Monday, and I have an appt. with the Perinatalogist on the 4th.

He'll be able to do a much more thorough/detailed scan then.

But so far, everything looks good!

Physically, I'm feeling okayish.
I'm exhausted all the time, and the joint pain has already kicked into high gear, so I know I've got  A LOT to look forward to in the coming months!

I'm excited, but not as ecstatic as I thought I would be.
I mean, I'm thrilled we're having a girl...I'm thrilled we're having a BABY, but I think my enthusiasm/joy is clouded by stress and depression.

I lay awake at night wondering how we're going to make it.

Asking myself Again and Again: Where did we go so wrong?

I keep wondering/questioning, even praying:
When the FUCK are things going to ACTUALLY turn around for us?

Every time we pass by the apartment complex that we were supposed to move into, my stomach just sinks, and I feel that sting of tears behind my eyes....

Unpacking our boxes gutted us both.

It's been a really long and ugly month.
We're trying very hard to plaster a smile on our faces and soldier forward.

Whenever someone asks how we are, we say:
We're hanging in there! Trying to stay positive, and looking forward to whatever opportunity comes our way!

Which is true.
Sort of...

In the quiet moments of the day, when we're alone?

We feel stuck.
Scared.
Angry.
Heartbroken.


This pattern of two steps forward, 3 steps back has plagued us for too long.

It's no longer about my husband just finding a good job.

For us to actually move in  FORWARD motion?

He needs a fucking miracle job.
We need a sweepstakes win.
We need magic.

Since magic, miracles and Ed McMahon seem to be outta our reach, the plan is for the Huz to find a full-time job, get settled in that schedule and then take on a night/weekend job, and just begin digging our way to the top of some semblance of stability.

Piece of cake, no?

Jobs are just RIPE for the picking!
Snort.
(are we working the wrong field?)

People keep telling me that our break is just around the corner, good things happen to good people, etc....

I sure hope so.

But I think we're going to be stuck for a long damn time.

We haven't any other choice than to just keep trudging through the shit we've got and to make the best of it.

I'm honestly not sure how to keep doing that.

But we'll figure it out.

Key thing about parenthood is that it takes quitting COMPLETELY OFF the table.

Annoying, right?
Ha.






As usual, thanks to all of you who've checked in with us, offered commiseration, and are generally rooting for us.

We really appreciate all  the support.