Day #1

I was finally able to recieve my medication for my post-partum depression from my doctor. I had a little trouble getting it last month because of insurance, but thankfully I got it figured out.

I took my first pill last night, suggested by my doctor and the pharmacist because I am one of those wonderful people that get sick when I take medication. I took it two hours before I went to bed, and I could already feel the affects they warned me about. Dizziness and nausea were felt a little bit the first hour, and then by the second hour it was like I was on a buzz, like I had just drank a full cup of strong wine. It wasn’t a terrible feeling, just really strange.

Besides the side effects, I could feel calmer, but it was a kind of calm I’m not used too. When I’m normally calm, I’m still thinking about the things I need to do. But last night, I sat on the couch and realized that everything was quiet.

I’m not going to lie, it was freaky. I don’t remember a time that my mind wasn’t running in all directions. I told my best friend that it was strange, and I honestly didn’t know if I liked it or not. She told me I’ll get used to it, as she has been on this type of medication before.

To say the least, I don’t like the way I felt last night, although this morning has been much better. I slept off the nausea and dizziness, and now my mind is finally working. It’s still quiet though, which makes me wonder if I will ever get my mind back. I’m afraid this will affect how I work, my writing, and keeping up with my children. We will see.


The cold, hard truth.


This week has been rough. It feels like my husband and I have been getting along less and less and I feel helpless not being able to figure out what to do. We have been having problems for a while now, but who doesn’t? We try to get past these issues, try to move forward without truly addressing the problems and it never works in either of our favor.  He doesn’t like confrontation and I’m tired of fighting him.

I knew that marriage was going to be difficult. When you are with someone for so long, eventually you will have to work at staying strong. I’ve been with my husband for five years, married for three, and we’ve been fighting for as long as we’ve been married. But the fighting used to be normal. It used to be fighting about money, our living condition, and where we were going to put our first baby. Now, the fighting is almost every other day, about stupid things that are not worth getting worked up over. But he does it. He fights me until we are both blue in the face, and it takes a lot to get me that angry.

Yesterday was the first day that I’ve had clarification on how he truly feels. And it matches my feelings completely. We are no longer IN love with each other. We still love each other and care about one another, but we don’t feel the same way like before. I know that happens to a lot of couples when they start to have children. You start pulling away from each other, sometimes without meaning too. Kids take up a lot of your personal time and it can put a damper on your relationship.

Instead of giving up though, we have decided to give this another try. Both of us want each other and we want to fall back in love with one another. It’s going to take work, and we are both aware of that. We both need to figure out how to change for the better. For our kids and for ourselves.

My parents got divorced when I was eleven and I still remember their awful fights. It was hard growing up in that environment. I know my husband’s parents were the same, though they decided to remain married and still are to this day. I promised myself when I was a child that I wouldn’t end up like my parents. That I would find a marriage that worked, come hell or high water. I even told myself that if I got married, it was going to be one and done. I made it a goal of mine to never get divorced, because everyone in my family has gotten divorced. (Lately everyone, save for the one or two exceptions.) I wanted to be different and not let the curse of my family get to me.

That goal, that promise to myself drives my determination to make this marriage work. I know it’s a difficult task in this day and age since everyone seems to have divorces and children to different people, but I want to try. I want to be that exception. My husband is truly set at his core and I miss that side of him. I miss a lot of things that we used to be. But I won’t dwell on the past. Instead, I’m going to look towards the future and try to remember that we were once in love and I know that we can be again.


Colic and How To Deal

Colic. It sucks. Like, really sucks. I can’t explain the emotions you go through when you have a colicky baby. First comes the sadness. You feel terrible that your baby is going through pain. Then comes the frustration, after you have tried everything to get her to feel better. Gas drops, bouncing, the swing, the leveled car seat, cuddling, but nothing works. Then comes the guilt for feeling so frustrated and irritated with your baby because it isn’t her fault, or yours.

After taking her to the pediatricians twice and going through many different types of medication that didn’t help with her acid reflux and the gas pains, they told me she was colicky and gave me medication that she is only allowed so much of. The medication wasn’t working, so I tool her off it (recommended by the pediatrician if it didn’t work). So, to ease my daughters cries and the frustration my husband and I go through, I decided to look up different ways to help with colic.

Sensitive Formula.


My son was on this formula after I realized he suffered from consitatipation, gas and bloating. He got my system, as I am lactose intolerant and the sensitive formula is really great for children with those same issues.

Dr. Brown Bottles.


 I used these with my son because he had problems with gas and bloating. They were wonderful and I switched to these a few days ago, hoping it would help my daughter. It has, tremendously. They help so well with relieving gas from the formula so your baby doesn’t swallow so much air. I love them!

Fennel tea.


I was nervous to try this at first, especially since it’s an herb. But I talked to a lot of mothers with babies that had colic and the pediatrician and they all recommended this remedy. You can buy the tea that’s already in strainer bags, or the loose tea and strain it yourself. I bought the first option, and gave her 1 teaspoon, 3 times a day for a few days, just to test whether it worked or not. It did, helping her a lot with her acid reflux and the gas issues.

With everything that I tried above, she’s gotten so much better and she is much happier now. She still has her moments, but it isn’t as constant as it was before.

(I recommend doing your own research and consulting your doctor before giving your child anything I’ve talked about in the above.)


Total Meltdown


Well this past week has been so much better than I thought! Janie survived, moved past her sickness and is doing so much better than before. I am so grateful.

And then came thursday.

For the past week, my husband and my two children have been fighting off sickness. I am fortunate enough to be taking Zinc vitamins at the sign of any type of illness in my house and didn’t catch anything. Even so, I had to wash everything, sterilize it and make sure my children didn’t get sick from left over germs. Well, this is when the major meltdown hit.

My son carries around a stuffed animal that I have had since I was a kid. It was from the 90’s when Pokemon first came out and it was the biggest thing since sliced bread. Squirtle. Its in perfect condition, as I took very good care of my toys and decided to pass it down to my children one day. Little did I know how important this little stuffed animal would be to my future child.

He loves Squirtle. He takes him everywhere and does everything with him. He squeezes his little head, chokes the poor thing to death, eats with it, drinks with it, watches tv with it, and won’t go to sleep without knowing he is right there with him.

I took it, trying to be sneaky without him seeing, and then plopped him into the washer. But I got caught, like a child doing bad things, and paid for it for two hours. Liam threw himself onto the floor, crying like I had severely hurt him in some way. At first I didn’t know what I did, or what happened. Then he pointed to the washer and kept screaming over and over Twirtle! Twirtle! (Which is his cute 2 year old way of saying Squirtle).

Please tell me Im not alone in this…


1st Day of Daycare



Call me pathetic and sad, or whatever comes to your mind, but it’s the first day of daycare and I’m having anxiety. It makes me wonder, is this what it’s like for mothers on the first day of school?


Granted, my husbands nan runs the daycare and it’s relatively small so I don’t have to worry about him getting lost in a sea of children. And I know how much she enjoys her great grandaughter, so I shouldn’t be worried. But I am. I’m worried because I’m a mother and that’s what we do. We worry, we scream, we cry and most days we look like hell (unless you are one of those mom’s that always looks put together (YOU GO GIRL! MORE POWER TO YOU!)). Despite them being with someone who loves and cares for them, I think I am the one that is freaking out more than my kids.

I am hoping this is a normal reaction and that it subsides sooner than later. It’s hard to focus on my work and get things done. I keep reminding myself that they are fine and if she has a problem, she won’t hesitate to call. And then I think about how stubborn my children are, especially my son.

What if he doesn’t listen? What if he won’t go down for nap time? What if he decides he’s going to let out his inner demon and wreak havoc on the other children? But I guess it isn’t my job today.

I have control issues. I also have issues with other people taking care of my kids. Don’t get me wrong, the help is appreciated but I am the type of person that likes doing everything herself. I will wear myself out until there is no energy left in me and I’m standing on wobbly legs. But it’s time to let go of the reins a little bit and move forward in this stage of their lives.

God help me when they go to school….


Today is the day

This is completely off topic, but here it goes.

Today is the day of the solar eclipse. I should be excited and i was for the weeks coming up. I love astrology and constellations and all the energy that the stars bring to life. I wanted to prepare some kind of energy event for myself. But today, my 14 year old cat is dying.

I could  sense it when we moved to my new house. I knew she was going to die and I’ve told my friends and family that she would pass this year. I could feel it, and have been preparing for it all year. It still doesn’t change the hurt that I feel, or the fact that I have to pretend to be strong so she doesn’t sense my sadness. I remained in the living room with her the entire night, laying with her on a n extra matress we have, keeping her close, cuddling with her for the last time. 

I will never find another cat like her. She is patient, loving, dependable. She was always there to be my crutch, through every fight, every breakup, every part of my life that changed. It always got better when she was around because I knew she’d be there to help comfort me through everything.

As I sit here and try my best to comfort her, I feel my heart breaking. I’ve had her since I was 11, a child. I grew up with this animal and have loved her since the day she was born. I hate even leaving her side for a minute, not wanting her to die alone. And it will kill me to take the kids to the babysitters and go to work and leave her here by herself. I was hoping she would pass in the middle of the night so that I could be there by her side. It doesn’t look like that’s going to happen, and it hurts.

I have lost animals before. Lots of animals have died and come and gone but she was special. This is the first animal I’ve had that lived until old age, has been my crutch through everything and was my first baby.

I will no longer enjoy Janie time, laying with her wrapped up in my arms, the blankets tucked around her tightly. She loves to be cuddled under the blankets, and loves her nose nuzzled feom time to time. I only wish that she could stay that way forever. But now, as I write this, I can see the light fading from her eyes. She’s ready to go, and even though I keep telling her it’s okay, I will be fine and she can let go now, she still fights and holds on. I wish she would pass, to end her suffering, but it’s like she doesn’t want to leave me as much as I don’t want her top leave me either.

I love you Jane Elaine. You have been the best cat I’ve ever owned. You have been there for me through so much. So, I will say that I will be here for you roo, through everything. There will never be another cat more beautiful and i will never call another gorgeous the way I call you. Goodbye my love.


Baby can cry!

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I almost forgot how much a newborn cries. Almost. Sometimes I wish I had, but it was one of the things that I was dreading with the new baby right before she was born. I even tried to mentally prepare myself, to get myself ready for the constant crying. I even tried reminding my husband, daily, that we would have to start this process all over again. The diapers, the late nights, the screaming, the feeling of tearing your hair out when nothing seems to go right… it’s a little much sometimes.

Speaking of a little much, my toddler decided his terrible twos were going to start the day after his birthday. And let me tell you, it’s overwhelming. He cries, doesn’t listen, throws things, throws himself on the floor, and heaven forbid if you take anything out of his hands! The world is constantly ending in his eyes. It’s like he’s having a beginning of life crisis. Like his life is so terrible he can’t control himself. But of course, life isn’t so bad and he’s goes back to being his sweet self within a few minutes. I hope this stage doesn’t become the terrible toddlers. I’m not sure I can handle more than a year of this!

I do love my children, but sometimes I just want to lock myself in the bathroom. I can’t even do that now, my toddler always kicking and screaming at the door if I lock him out. So, nothing is sacred anymore. But, tis the life of a mother, right?

Parenting, Uncategorized

All hail the birthday boy!


There is a slight look of panic on my face as I’m trying to mimic the cups smile, hoping that the rest of me will catch on. Be happy, be positive, be happy. Sometimes it’s hard to listen to your inner voice when the frustrations of your life consume your every thought. You can try to forget about that pile of laundry that needs folded and put away. You can try to forget that the house needs a decent scrub down before your son’s birthday tomorrow but it won’t dissapear.

His birthday party is tomorrow and I’m slightly dying inside. That means my day is going to be full of funt-astic things to do. First, I’m going to work from 10-5, then I’m going to come home (now this is just an estimate) to a house that looks well lived in. My husband will have only done the bare minimum because he can’t handle two children, leaving me the rest while trying to make dinner in the process. I will fly through the list, trying to do all things at one time, resulting in me stressing out even more. I’ll be worried that I won’t get it done in time, that I’ll forget to do something and someone might see a speck of dust on the entertainment stand, heaven forbid. I will take my frustration out on my husband, telling him that he needs to help out more. He will either walk away and try to ignore me, or he will argue back, resulting in a fight that isn’t necessary.

Tomorrow, I will be freaking out. I will be wondering what I forgot to do, running around the place like a crazy person, tearing out my hair because I forgot to buy paper plates and plastic forks. Everything will be procrastinated, and we will end up having a four hour party rather than just a two hour like we planned. I will be crazy until the party ends and then I’ll be back on the crazy train trying to clean up after people. I’m exhausted just thinking about it.

I’m not going to lie. I’ve always hated parties since I was a kid. I don’t like mingling, or small talk and I hate hosting parties because I’m a perfectionist and when something doesn’t go right, I have a panic attack. I’ve been told on multiple occasions that I have a problem and I’m the first to admit that I do.

I’ll be crossing my fingers hoping that my child doesn’t get cake all over my newly washed floor.


Parent Sex


Yes, that is a shocked batman face because not only is that my favorite super hero, but I’m going to talk about a subject that not many parents talk about. Parent sex.

What is parent sex you ask? Parent sex is when you get that five minute intermission between taking care of your children to slip away and do your business. (Now, of course, the kids are SAFE and otherwise occupied.) It happens between the baby sleeping and the toddler playing in his room, between the laundry and the dishes, and always when you least expect it. (Again, children are SAFE- if I don’t make this clear enough, people will assume my children are left without adult super vision.)

Parent sex is not exactly something I’m proud of participating in. It was a spur of the moment thing, a moment where I was putting away clothes and my husband began rubbing my shoulders and we went from there. Normally, I am the one to turn down the sex when the kids are awake. But it had been a while since we had sex and it was the perfect opportunity. The baby was sleeping and our toddler was in his room, laying on his bed, watching a movie. It was a very quick one, wham-bam-thank you ma’am style. When we came back out, both kids were exactly where we left them, nothing having changed in those few minutes.

It happened because we haven’t been able to make time to be together. The night we went out for our anniversary, we were so tired that we didn’t even have the energy. And every other night, our kids are either co-sleeping with us because he had a nightmare, or we don’t have the energy to even attempt sex. We have planned nights where we say we are going to have sex, but then those plans always get changed, as everything does when you have kids. My husband and I have learned our lesson with planning. Expect the unexpected, and even then you aren’t fully prepared.

Point being, we are human. Shit happens and it happens every day. It isn’t perfect, but you have to make perfection out of imperfections. And if that means taking a few minutes to have sex with your significant other, then by all means, do it.



First week back

This week has been my first week back to work and so far it’s been an interesting one. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy for either of my children or myself, but I was hoping for a smoother transition. Between my toddler throwing a fit because he doesn’t want me to leave, and my 1 month old crying because her brother is whining, I don’t know which is worse. It’s heart warming to know that he doesn’t want me to go anywhere, but it’s also frustrating. I tried my best to keep a level head, said my goodbyes (with an extra long hug to my toddler) and went on my way with my fingers crossed that everything was going to be fine.

Sunday was not only my first day at work, but also my husbands first day at watching our kids without me for longer than thirty minutes. I was glad that I didn’t have to take them to a babysitters, but at the same time, I was concerned that he couldn’t handle it on his own. So by the request of both o us, my friend and her younger sister came to spend the day with them. I felt much better, especially for my first day back. I wanted it to go as smooth as possible for all of us. I checked in once and everything was fine, my husband even did some chores around the house without me having to say anything. Overall, it was a good day.

My second day, Monday, was a little more rough. My toddler woke up when I did. He was tired and clingy and was smart enough to know that me getting dressed and ready that early in the morning was a sign that I was leaving. He’s wasn’t having it. Thank goodness my babysitter lives a few houses down (also the friend that helped Sunday) and she came to me. After I gave him some breakfast and he was settled with his Octonauts, I headed out. He did fine once I left and in felt confident that the worst was over.

This morning, he’s sleeping in, my 1 month old is sleeping and now I’m just waiting for my babysitter to come by. Overall, the transitioning hasn’t been as bad as I thought it would be, thank god!