Ahhh, well. Hello there.
Maybe you remember me from good ‘ol Busted Plumbing days, where I pretty much talked about cervical mucus and world domination… and were therefore wondering if I was hit by a large meteor.
Or maybe you are new here, and have no clue what I’m talking about but you happened to google search “cervical mucus world domination”, in which case please let me know what that entails because I might want in.
Either way, I’m doing a fresh start.
Between my husband and I, when one or (more likely) both of us are being stupid, we’ll often look at one another and say “fresh start”. It means not having to say your sorry, and skipping right past those awkward moments that you have to endure after a fight. It means just going right back to awesome, and acting like nothing happened. It’s a very effective marital tool.
I’m hoping it’s an effective blogging tool. So we can just pretend that I didn’t more or less disappear for the last three-ish years. That I jumped from an infertility blog to a pregnancy blog to a non-existent blog to now a mother-of-two (surprise!) blog.
Anyways, there’s a lot of housecleaning I need to get done on this site, so you’ll notice my old posts are missing. Don’t worry, if you’re here about infertility stuff. I’ll get them polished up and back on the shelf.
I’m also going to try and get back into a groove. Now with a full time job and two kids, I don’t have the time or mental capacity required to put in what I’d like to when it comes to writing. But for years now I’ve been kicking myself, saying I should come back to it, saying I would start up during maternity leave (hahaha… I’m adorable). Well time to $%&* or get off the pot. Well this crapper ain’t going no where.
You know what I mean.
Long story short: Hey, what’s up?]]>
There is much to catch you up on. Well… “much” is a bit of an overstatement. There’s a few to catch you up on. I think I can cram it into a few posts.
But there is one thing that deserves a post, all on it’s own.
You know what? I’m not even going to explain it. I’m just going to put this beautiful, beautiful train wreck out there for you to ponder in amazement for a full day before I tell you the story behind this.
Why yes, those are gold elephants.
And pink carpet.]]>
Knock, knock, knock… anyone still out there?
Figured Halloween would be an appropriate day to make my return from the proverbial grave.
Hey there Bleeps! Usually I say sorry when I slack off a few weeks. It’s been, er, like five MONTHS. So I don’t even know what I could do to make it up to you. Kidney*?
I wish I had a good reason. I was vaccinating orphans in Malaria, OBVIOUSLY. And there was no internet connection. So there.
There will be much time for catching up, but for now… just wanted to say hi
*Offer only good for first two entries.]]>
Being a rookie to the parenthood thing, I am not yet accustomed to the politics that apparently go along with children playing together.
On Sunday, Nurse Awesome (NA) and I took her kids and Tuckman to the kids play area at the mall. I’m always looking for anything to do that’s in air conditioning, and I’m sure a lot of other moms were thinking the same thing as the place was packed.
Now, Tuckman being only six months, he was quite content to stay in the Ergo (BTW, BEST CARRIER EVER)and just watch the other kids play. But Nurse Awesome’s kids (a 3 year old boy and 1 year old girl) were out there ready to mix it up.
Despite being crowded, there were plenty of objects to play on and with. A large lizard thing was a more popular item, closely situated to where NA and I were sitting.
Here’s the part where I judge other people’s children. I’m not proud of myself. Really, it’s more of a judgement on the parenting. But don’t judge me for judging. Can’t we all agree that anonymously judging children is acceptable here?
So, it was popular for kids to come and stand on this lizard thing (it is Arizona, after all… the playground has cactus and teepees and stagecoaches to play on, what do you expect?). But one little boy was territorial. He didn’t want to play on the lizard, he just didn’t want OTHER kids to play on it.
To the extent that he would push other kids off of it.
NA and I took to calling him Monkey Boy because he had one of those kid-leash/backpack things (obviously not tethered to a responsible adult) that was in the shape of a monkey. Also? He was like five years old and still wearing a diaper (here comes Judgey McJudgerson).
Homeboy was not little. He was a solid little mass, and he unapologetically shoulder checked anyone playing king of the lizard. Fortunately, other kids were mellow (including NA’s kids) and simply moved on to other play items.
I was watching all this go down, and wondered a) where the heck this kid’s parent was, and b) how would I handle it if Tuck got pushed off the lizard?
I’m not going to lie, when I saw Monkey Boy push off a little beanie baby some girl had placed on the lizard’s head, I started feeling a little territorial myself. Must not push a little kid. Must not push a little kid. Must not shout out, “Hey @#$hole that’s not your lizard!” at a five-year old.
When Monkey Boy kind of butted out NA’s son, I had to resist the urge to stand up and shout “will the parent of this miscreant kindly remove him from the civilized children?” NA’s son paid no notice, and even ended up playing a game of chaotic chase with the kid later on.
So, how do these playground politics work, when someone’s children are acting like honey badgers?
I mean, I can’t just haul up there and push the kid down, right? Even though he’s asking for it, it’s still, like, inappropriate to hip-check someone elses child, right? What if no one is looking?
What if I keep a spray bottle with like a 15 foot water stream, and I just give him a little reminder squirt?
What parent would have a problem with that? It’s not like I’m hurting the kid or anything. And it’s your fault for not supervising them in the first place. Really, it’s you whose put me in this situation. So you should be apologizing to me, parent-who-obviously-went-shopping-and-abandoned-their-kid.
You’ve got to train me up on the protocol here, people. I don’t want to get arrested for trying to kidney punch a kindergartener.
PS: Monkey Boy, you better watch your back.
PPS: I’m sending some mad love over to my dear friend Nikus, who is having her awesome little eggies retrived today… and she’s bringing in deviled eggs to the IVF staff as a treat! How awesome is that? Go read her blog and wish her luck
PPPS: Ok, maybe I exaggerated slightly when I said he was five. He was probably between three and four, and just the size of a 10 year old
PPPS: If you don’t know what I’m talking about with the honey badger, then you HAVE to watch this video. It made me laugh so hard I snorted. (NOTE: If you’re viewing at work, Randall does drop a few bad words, so watch it when the boss isn’t around…)]]>
Check out my post over at The Bird Flipper today.
Even people who are aware of my antics are still like “seriously? no thanks”.
PS: I made both blogs mobile friendly! So when I get blocked from your work computers, you can still read me on your smart phones… hurray!]]>
Bleeps, since getting the little Tuckerang back in December, there’s been one question I’ve been getting over and over.
Most people ask it out loud, because they know I’m just one of those folks who will blab anything if you ask it directly. Other folks are reserved, and politely don’t want to pry… especially considering my history.
Speaking of my history, I think it makes folks doubley curious.
Come on, you know what the question is, right? Just say it out loud. Get it off your chest. I know you want to ask. Can’t you feel the suspense?!
“Sooooooo…. ah…. you gonna, uh, do any more?”
I usually respond with “if God is willing and the creek don’t rise”.
“Ah…. how long are you going to wait?”
I can feel people’s discomfort in prying, but the curiosity gets the better of them. Not that I can blame, I’ve mentally asked this question to not only every Infertile Mom I know but pretty much every mom I know.
“Ya going to have any more? WHEN??”
Hell, my lady bits are all pretty much public knowledge anyways. Folks are stressed that now I have one, I’m going to dick around for like 10 years and then I’ll be S.O.O.L. if I want to start trying again.
Well, rest assured…
…yes, we’d like to have more.
…no, I’m not waiting 10 years.
…hell no, we’re not trying already either.
Look, I’m as excited by my future Secondary Infertility posts as the next guy. And if Adam had his way, we’d be (ahem) getting back into the game already. (I think Adam has a biological clock too, if you ask me.)
To be honest, I’m still a little traumatized. Worried I’d have more losses. Not to mention, it was tough worrying for 9 months straight. I was grateful I got the pregnancy experience, but holding your breath for 9 months isn’t something I want to repeat anytime soon.
And… I feel incredibly fulfilled right now. I’m happy. Also? Tired. I can’t imagine the stress of TTC on top of taking care of an infant, plus working, plus rebuilding my meth lab (stupid federal raid).
I won’t wait forever, but I don’t see any cervical mucus examinations coming up anytime this year either.
That said, it was an odd experience at my 6-week check up. The doctor asks about getting back on birth control.
Birth control? What an odd concept. I haven’t been on birth control in over 6 years. I almost laughed at the doctor and said, “Seriously? What’s the point? Do you know how much chemical intervention it took me to get to this point in the first place?”
But… there are always those stories. Legend. Rumor. My sister’s friend’s cousin’s wife tried for 28 years, had a baby, and then got pregnant again right away.
Could I be that outlier? I thought about my sweet little man and my 2 hours of sleep the night before.
“Uh, yeah. Give me the pills.”
Have I mentioned how much I hate progesterone? Stupid mini-pill. It’s like postpartum depression in a tiny green package.
It’s weird! Trying to do something to AVOID getting pregnant. What a betrayal to my busted plumbing!
Alas, it is a short term irritation.
Then will come Cervical Mucus, Part Deux.]]>
So, earlier this week I was having lunch with my fabulous friend Niki (of Nikus Road, check her out… about to do IVF! Stop by and wish her luck!) and we were just chatting about how being a mom after infertility still makes you a little “different”.
Like I wasn’t going to be “different”, no matter what I did.
But specifically we were commenting on folks who have kids, who always make flippant statements about how “lucky” she is (or I once was) to not have kids… so that she could sleep in, or go out without a babysitter, or see a movie whenever she wants.
Or comments I get to me, asking me how much I miss being able to do all that stuff. “Bet you miss sleep!” or “Are you lucky you had those extra years of sleep?”
Nah. I’m lucky now.
Do I miss sleep? Of course. Do I secretly plot against the folks who tell me their kid started sleeping through the night at 8 weeks, planning to call them at 3 am or find ways to set off their car alarm in the middle of the night?
Yeah. But I’m up anyways, what else have I got to do?
But I try not to complain. Because the fact of the matter is, if I never slept another minute for the rest of my (what would become a very short) life, I’d still feel grateful that I’ve got the Tuckman. And no amount of sleeping in (or movies or late nights out or binge drinking followed by a ride in the cop car) change that for me.
I’m sure any mom would say that. Except Casey Anthony. (Too soon?)
I still think my infertility made me different. Yes, I’m exhausted but I savor those midnight snuggles. And who needs movies out, when the magic of Netflix on your Wii brings The Other Guys right to your TV. I relish the small moments. I wondered shortly after Tuckmaster was born, when the “I’m so lucky” would wear off. But it hasn’t.
Infertility made me gain a kind of gratitude I’m not sure I would have known otherwise.
I marvel at Niki, how she resists the urge to punch the folks who say “You’re SOOO lucky you don’t have kids because blah blah blabbity blah”. But I remember having to fight the same urges myself. She just does it with a lot more class than I did, usually just curtly replying “Well, I’ll trade ya”.
I look forward to the time when Niki WILL have her own little one, and we’ll get together for play dates… and we’ll both get to think on those years of “adult fun” and know, it was good while it lasted, but we’re luckiest now.
BTW, check out this picture that Niki snapped when we were walking around the mall. She picked out this hat for him… doesn’t she have great taste? I think Tuckmeister agrees!
I hope you don’t mind me cross posting here for a while, while I’m getting the Bird Flipper up and running! My post over there today is… well… addressing what you’ve all probably already been thinking about my kid’s name… Go check it out.
I’ve got a new post up on the new blog! Check it out:
Bleeps, I’m dragging once again.
Maybe it’s a resurgence of the baby blues?
I’m not sure how much I talked about all that when they originally hit, but I struggled with some post-partum stuff. I’m sure you recall my post about crying over everything. Funny… when its not you. A couple weeks after Tuck was born, I had a meltdown. I mean a TOTAL. #$%*@%$. MELTDOWN.
Over the dogs getting my Mom’s banana chocolate chip muffins down from the counter and eating the whole thing.
I was like, inconsolable. Over banana muffins.
Seriously, ask Adam.
Fortunately, I’m not back to meltdown status.
It’s more like the ho-hums. Feeling kind of lonely. Out of place? Or something?
Know what I mean?
Anywhodoodle. When I get like this, I sometimes get a wild hair for something different. Sometimes small, like changing my hair color or getting a new hair cut… but I did both, and… meh.
I’m afraid my wild hair might turn more drastic… Moving? Different neighborhood? Different state?
I never thought (very seriously) about leaving Arizona. But now? Everything is what’s best for Tucker.
So… I’ll be waiting to see how the mud settles. See if this is just the “blahs” making me restless. Or maybe it’s an inking of things to come?
PS: Have you checked out the new blog yet?