Parenting

The cold, hard truth.

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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.

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Parenting

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!

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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.

Parenting

Parent Sex

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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.

 

Parenting, Uncategorized

Bad Day #3

Today the kids aren’t the problem. My son is taking an early nap today, and my daughter is finally sleeping in the bassinet without my arms wrapped around her. No, today is a good day. So why do I say bad day #3? Well, I am finding that my own thoughts and feelings are the problem now.

I was doing fine when I woke up. I was thinking positively. My postpartum bleeding stopped, it looked like it was going to be a cool day, and my kids were doing well this morning. Then my thoughts ran away from me. I started thinking about the arguments that my husband and I have been getting into, and how much I have lost myself since before my son was born. I love my kids, and I would never want to change the fact that I have them. They are both a blessing to my life. There are just times when I wonder if I can keep it together and be the best parent that they need me to be.

I think my husband thinks that it is all in my head, my depression. I have suffered from depression for most of my life, but I feel like that would come and go. Postpartum depression seems to never leave, even when you are having a good day. It remains in the back of my head, waiting to reappear at any moment. It jumps out when one thing is said the wrong way, or something sets off the little bomb inside my mind. I have no control over it, or my emotions when it goes off and I become an ugly, crying mess that thinks the world hates me. I have not had any suicidal thoughts, thankfully. Every time I get to a bad place in my episode, I always remind myself that I love my children too much to do anything stupid. I do, however, wish that I could just stop the uncontrollable feeling of unhappiness and self doubt. My husband and I talked about my feelings last night and we both agreed that for our lives to be better, and for me to be happier, I need to call my doctor and go in for a checkup before my six weeks are up. I know for a fact that I can’t handle these feelings for another three weeks.

Parenting, Uncategorized

Bad Day

Everyone has bad days, but you can always count on the days getting better. Well, my bad day has turned into bad DAYS and I am beginning to wonder if there is a good day in sight. It started yesterday with my daughter. She was a very needy baby and requested, via screaming, that I hold her. That went on for most of the day. She has also been gassy for the past week, and has been fussy in general when shes not sleeping. Imagine that, plus the need to be held consistently, which equals a very loud little girl. My son added fuel to the fire when he continued to whine, because he couldn’t get what he wanted. When my son cries, my daughter cries and vise versa. The word ‘no’ did not register for him yesterday, and he was more than happy to throw himself on the floor and cry until there was no tears left in him. When nap time came around, it took m e two hours to get him to stop walking out of the bedroom and actually go to sleep. It was a rough day, and all I wanted was a few minutes to get my barrings, but I had no few minutes to spare for myself. This began from sun up to long after dark. It was becoming too much for me to handle, and I felt myself slowly breaking.

It has gotten so bad that I began to ask myself what I was doing wrong, and then I had a break down, in which my husband had to hold me through because I couldn’t stop crying. I was surprised that I lasted the day without a tear. It wasn’t until my husband got home that I began to feel more and more like something deeper was wrong with me. I felt my innards twisting with each time my children cried. Eventually my husband finally took our son to bed. Our daughter woke up, started crying and I couldn’t take it. I gave my daughter to my husband and began to walk to the bathroom. When I passed my sons room, that was when I began to break down. His clothes were all over the floor, everything out of his dresser. I fell to my knees and had my breakdown.

I guess it was the image of seeing the mess, (and realizing that my house was dirty from days before because I haven’t had the motivation to clean anything, or do anything for that matter), that made me sob. This is one of the ugly truths about postpartum depression. You don’t have the motivation for anything, you feel lost, and the pressure of the world is on your shoulders. Eventually, you will break and it really is okay to cry. I have found that crying, and letting out your emotions out helps.

Today hasn’t been that much better than yesterday. The only time I get peace is when my children are both taking naps. It’s hard to do that when my son thinks its funny to keep walking out of his room, slamming the door behind him. And when I tell him it’s nap time, he throws a fit and that wakes up his sister, then both kids are crying. He does this to me often, especially when he is tired. I finally get him into bed, calm her down, and when I think everything is good, he does it again. He did this to me over five times yesterday. It was very frustrating and very hard to keep my head level.

Enough of my rambling. Point being, there are good days and there are bad days. Some days will be bad, some days will be good, and other will be downright horrible. Just remember to take some time for yourself. It helps immensely.

Parenting, Uncategorized

The ugly truth

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Postpartum depression.

It is a very real thing that I wish a lot of people would understand is a serious issue with mothers. It happens to even the strongest of people, and can be a very hard experience to get through.

I had postpartum depression with my first child, though I kept denying the signs. I have had issues with depression since I was a child, and I knew the risks for postpartum depression were high with me. I kept denying the signs, kept telling myself that I was stronger than that. I kept trying to convince myself that it was a faze, that I was loosing too much sleep, and that I still wasn’t used to the difficulties of taking care of a child. But despite myself, I knew that there was something deeper wrong with me. When I expressed my feelings to my doctor, they made me take a test. Answering the questions truthfully, I was diagnosed with postpartum depression. They gave me some pills and told me to check back in a month. After that month of taking the medication, I decided that I was going to stop and work out my problems myself. Although this worked for me, I do not suggest doing so without telling your doctor. I told my doctor what I planned to do, to work on things on my own, and even though they said that sometimes that doesn’t always work, the told me to call them if I was feeling suicidal and I went on my way.

I did work on things myself, because I have always dealt with my depression on my own. I more so ignored it than faced it, and I think that it’s coming back to bite me in the ass this time around. I have bouts throughout the day where I feel like I am alone. Some days are good, but some days are bad. Some days I feel sad, and angry and lost and sometimes I can’t control my own emotions. I have never once hurt my children during these episodes, but I know they can feel my frustration and it affects how they react to me. That’s when I have to walk away from them, to give myself some time to handle the stress.

Last night I had a melt down. I was crying, hard, and started fighting with my husband for no reason but because I was hurt and feeling lost. I felt alone and pressured into being a perfect mother, with this perfect family, and trying to uphold the perfect life. I put that pressure on myself, and it was too much for me to handle. I should have remembered that there is no such thing as the perfect mother, the perfect family, and the perfect life. Not even the seemingly perfect family truly is perfect. My husband has promised to try harder with helping around the house, to relieve some of the pressure that keeps building. I am grateful that no matter what I throw at him, he stands by me, despite the arguments we get into. It helps a lot when you have a support system. I hope that others that go through this have a support system as well.

Parenting, Uncategorized

Adjustments

It’s been almost a week since I have been home with the newest addition and so far most of my fears have disappeared. The fear of my eldest hating his sister. The fear of not finding a routine. The fear of having too much on my plate. The fear of falling into depression, like I did after my first pregnancy. I let these fears get the best of me at the hospital. The fear of my son rejecting his little sister got me so panicked that I worried about whether or not I would feel the same for this child as I had with my first. I instantly felt guilty and terrible for feeling this way because a mothers love is never divided and shared equally among her children. After doing some research, I found that I am not the only parent that has felt this way. And after spending some quiality bonding time with my daughter, I was able to get rid of these feelings pretty quickly.

As for my son, it took him a lot less time to get used to his sister than I thought. A few days in and he went from cringing away from her to kissing her and wanting to share his toys and his food with her. He now calls her sissy, smiles and laughs when he sees her. Now he won’t go anywhere without her and makes sure that we never forget to take the baby with us wherever we go.

As for the routine, I have already come to the conclusion that routines come and go and change constantly throughout life. Right now, we might have a good routine going, but in the long run, I know that it will change eventually. Its about learning to adapt to new things and new situations and embracing change. I was afraid of that change for a long time while pregnant. Yes, I was excited to meet her, but at the same time, I was dreading the day she would come, because I knew everything would change. But I also knew that I needed to embrace that change because it was going to happen whether I was ready for it or not. And in the end, things have worked out well and for the better.

Parenting, Uncategorized

Welcome the New Addition

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Evelyn Fae Speelman entered the world at 12:04 pm, May 22, 2017. She weighed at a wopping 8 pounds 8.6 ounces and is 20 inches long. She has the dark, native American features of her father, which is a big contrast to my pale skin and blonde hair. If my assumptions are correct, she will have her father’s dark brown eyes as well, since they are already so much darker than my son’s were when he was born.

Late Sunday night, I thought my water broke, so my husband and I went to the ER just in case. I was in there for an hour before they decided to send me home, since there were no contractions and my body was no longer leaking. Well, low and behold, right when I stood up to get dressed, I drenched the floor. Needless to say, I was back in the hospital bed. My contractions began, and soon went the process of having a baby.

Already she is showing how stubborn she is. My contractions were doing fine when they suddenly stopped, like she changed her mind about coming out. Well, they ended up inducing me (something that I was hoping and praying they wouldn’t have to do). A few hours later, she was born. Now, I had never planned on having a natural birth. Call me what you will, but I wanted that epidural and I wanted it badly, but she came too quickly and i had no time.

It was one of the hardest experiences I had ever been through. There was an insane amount of pain, so much so that I can’t even describe it. It was definetely something I will remember forever, and my body has definetely felt it’s better days. My recovery time, though, is going pretty well. I thought that by having a natural birth it would make my recovery more difficult, but it feels the same as my first pregnancy did, sore, aching and bloated.

All in all, my baby is healthy, I am recovering well enough and my husband is enjoying his time with his new daughter that he’s already nicknamed princess. I have a feeling that he’s already wrapped around her little finger.