clean floors, dirty paws

Last night was rough.  Cache is teething.  On nights when he is teething I might as well drink a pot of coffee, chase it with a shot of Jack and half of a sheet cake to keep me up.  Because then at least I'd have a buzz and might find the writhing around, headbutting, kicking, screaming, nursing, rolling pin with legs entertaining.  It was 11:45 and he had been tossing and turning, while latched on I might add, for over two hours.  I was O V E R it.  This on the heels of waking up at 4:00am for a few days just for funsies.  I was taking deep breaths.  You can do this.  I know that window is tempting, but you will regret throwing the baby out of it. Finally his body relaxed and I could feel myself drifting off into a much needed slumber when out of nowhere the rabid chipmunk tried to bite my nipple off.  HOLY SHIT!  He has bitten me a few times before, but nothing major.  This was major.  I  know I'm being a bit dr...

Everyone told me that the first year of marriage would be the hardest; but they were wrong.  The first year was filled with newness and fun.  We attended parties, went away on impromptu camping trips, and late movies.  We were free to do pretty much whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted.  Our first year ended with an absolutely perfect anniversary trip to Cayucos.  Gelato, Taco Temple, left over wedding cake, Champagne, the beach and the conception of our first baby to be. The second year was again filled with excitement, spontaneity, and preparation.  Our love was growing by an entire human being and we were over the moon.  We took advantage of our couples only status with loosely planned vacations and mornings spent drinking coffee in bed until noon.  We had it all figured out, and then we had a baby. A beautiful, perfect, passionate baby boy who would change everything in a way none could have imagined. Last year we spent our anniversary...

  ...trying to figure a way out of this joint

Today my middle little turns four years old.  One .  Two .  Three.  Four.  Notice that there is no link for three?  I could have sworn I wrote at least a small diddy for his third birthday, but I scanned the archives of last year at least three times waiting for that post to kind of appear, and nothing!  In my defense, this time last year was peak screaming all day and night for Caches so maybe I was a bit preoccupied.  But still, nothing?!  Sorry Abner. A year later and my screamer has calmed, but not my bulldog.  He is still just as bat shit crazy as he was the day I picked him up.  Unlike a normal puppy who might show sighs of sadness leaving his mother and siblings, Abner never looked back.  He sat in the rented Cadillac, looked me straight in the eye and said, "Are you read for this?"  I wasn't. The first two weeks with Abner I had so much anxiety I could hardly eat.  He was just so busy, I was convinced ...

Unnatural. Disgusting. Harmful. Child abuse. Sexual abuse!   I must be talking about something horrible here, right?  Something that nobody would ever want their child to be subjected to, let alone actually DO to their own child! But I'm not talking about something horrible at all, I'm talking about breastfeeding.  We had so much fun talking about boobs last time, I figured I'd give it another go.  Only this time I'm not talking about the warm and fuzzy milk drunk baby smiles, I'm talking about the sad state of our culture regarding the topic, and I'm kinda pissed.  Like so many other things, it all boils down to education, or lack there of.  I myself haven't been an advocate for long, in fact before I had my own baby I never really gave breastfeeding much thought at all.  I never payed any attention to our cultures response to a woman nursing in public until I was one.  Never thought about what others might think or say, and I certain...

Maybe I was naive.  Maybe I still am.  But until I had my own child, I had NO idea that mothers could be so cruel to one another.  I'd never even heard the term "mommy wars," until I started Googling my own baby related questions which redirected me to message boards, or should I call them battle grounds. So judgmental, so hurtful, so mean.  I guess it shouldn't surprise me though.  Nobody can break a woman down quite like another woman.  We know what hurts, we are keenly aware of the soft spots, the kill zone.  And like thoughtless bullies, women go straight for the heart.  Remember witnessing a boy fight in high school?  There was punching and pushing, blood and testosterone, but then there was peace.  The fight was over.  The pent up energy was gone and the boys moved on.  Not the girls.  Girls are silent fighters, the damage is internal.  Their wounds can not be seen by the naked eye.  They spread and con...

My arm, it is numb.  I can no longer feel my fingers.  My body is tingling, begging me to move But I cannot.  For any movement may disturb the babe And there's nothing quite like the weight of a sleeping babe on your arm

 I haven't posted in three weeks.  One, two, THREE!  That is plain pathetic, even by my standard of late!  But to be honest, until I looked at the last thing I DID post, I had no idea it had been that long!  It's like groundhog day around here!  The baby was sick, the husband was sick, my body tried to be sick but I would NOT allow it.  Rinse, later, repeat.  I got out of the habit of writing and bam, just like that, three weeks later. Nothing It's funny how that happens, isn't it.  Not ha ha funny, but funny still.  They say it takes anywhere from 7-21 days to create a new habit and make it stick.  "They," are full of shit.  If this were the case I'd be taking my vitamins every day, eating a completely plant based diet, well, one that contained fewer cookies anyway.  I'd be running 5x a week, cooking dinner from scratch 5x a week, and a whole lot of other great things that USED to be habits of mine.  That is until ...