Babies

I don't think anyone can be truly prepared to have kids. Ever. The idea of "waiting til you are ready" makes absolutely no sense to me. Even if you are financially blessed, there are some things that money will not fix, nor even make easier.

My friend (or rather, friend of a friend) recently had a kid. I love hearing her birth story, seeing all of the pictures of the newest addition to her life. Of course, it makes me nastalgic for when Olivia was first born. I was in no hurry to leave the maternity ward - those nurses were WONDERFUL. I felt safe and protected and at ease there. Unfortunately, my mom would not leave my side and she was anything but relaxing. So for her sanity (and thus, mine), I chose to leave a day early to go to her house to rest up.

When I first pulled up to her house, I got out of the car first to greet my firstborn - Jake (the dog). He had been so sad without me, it was a wonderful reunion. When I got the baby out of the car for Jake to meet, he was unsure about what was happening and probably thought it was just a temporary hurdle. Hehehe.... poor guy.

I continued to look pregnant for days. In order to sit up from a laying down position, I had to grab onto my thigh and pull myself up with my leg. My nipples leaked. All in all, I was a hot mess, but not at all conscious of that fact. I slept a lot, whenever she slept. At night, I was nothing short of terrified. Trying to figure out how to safely feed a TINY baby with your boobies in pitch black is an inimidating situation, to say the least. My mom was supposed to help me, but she slept in every friggin morning and instead, the only thing at her house that I found noteworthy was the fact that I had to climb stairs with half of my stomache still cut open. Wasn't fun, and if I could do it over again, I woulda went home (to MY HOUSE) immediately, despite her guilt inducing crying fits.

When I did get to go home, I was so scared to drive. I didn't want to wreck her and with something so tiny and fragile, it was hard to know for sure that I wouldn't do something to break her. I remember laying her in her crib for the first time. She was sooooo tiny! I'd spent so much time in her room, preparing, thinking, waiting, and then there she was!


Before heading off to the hospital for my induction, I remember calling Steph and just being... unsure, so ready to be done with being soooo fat, but so... oblivous to what my world would end up being. I sat on my front porch, throwing the ball for Jake, explaining to him yet again that soon, a tiny thing would be in our house requiring my attention. He ignored me (as usual). What's funny is that I remember throwing the ball for him that day so vividly, you would think it was a significant event in my life (and maybe it was).


I spent the next few weeks sleeping and feeding her. Jake and Olivia would nap on the couch and I'd creep around, taking millions of pictures. Ryckman was down when her umbilical cord came off (thank GOD!!!) and he took care of disposing of that yuckiness. I remember he was so intimidated by her tininess, and now he has his own daughter! While he was down, he set up the webcam for us so Steph, Jeremy and Krystal could see us. I wanted to cry soooo hard when I first saw them on my computer screen (another extraordinarily vivid memory). It was then that I realized how bad I was looking.


Having a kid is weird. One day, you're one person taking care of yourself for your own sake, and the next minute, you're multiple people, taking care of yourself not just for your own sake, but you and the other person!


Olivia threw a multi-hour fit today. My head wanted to explode. In my mind, I'm thinking "if this isn't birth control, I don't know what is." What's weird is that my reality is this: Even with all her screaming, drama, sleepless nights, demanding behavior, diva attitude, and the ridiculous amount of worrying that I tend to do, I wouldn't change a damn thing. What's crazier is that I'll probably have another kid or 2. As much as they make me wanna scream and just check out mentally, the RIO on this investment is well worth the trouble.

Camping

So I'm handwriting this blog while camping. Rick and Liv are in the tent while the dogs and I hang outside. The weather is perfect The notebook I'm using was once a journal of my childhood self's - the irony of its contents not lost on me.

This day started off rocky. It doesn't help that sometimes frankly, I'm a bitch. Once I have expectations, any deviation from them makes me pissy. At the end of the day though, my baby asked to go to bed alone in our dark, yet fantastic tent. Rick quickly followed, giving me some alone time by the fire.

In high school, at the peak of my walk with God, I would write down my prayers, confessing my sins and then submit them to the campfire before heading to bed. Now, some 10 years later, I'm blogging the "old fashioned way" - unsure of any faith I may have remaining. Funny how life works.

I've been contemplating the theme of my blog. Although I love to make people laugh (often at my own expense), I feel like I have more to offer. It may just be me (and it probably is), but I think my life is not only interesting, but worth documenting. So here is my blog: A tribute to the wild, confused, guilt stricken, fun loving, delightful, sinful, grace needing/grace giving, upside down, inside out daughters, mothers, sisters, friends, wives, lovers, all American, completely global, 110% women out there who think no one will ever relate to them. Here I am, disenfranchised, disengaged, unrelatable (but really all too common), in all my glory, sharing my world with whomever may have too much time on their hands on any given day. I'm not special or unique, but I represent all those with the same life challenges, corrupt and unfair pasts, and hopefully brighter futures. Here's to us - Cheers.