Entries from May 2008 ↓

  I have mentioned that downstairs we only have two bedrooms. Upstairs there are 2 huge rooms (cape-cod style house), however they are uninsulated. Our big ‘economic stimulus’ project was to insulate, paint, etc. up there so we can move upstairs. However I am totally and completely dreading cleaning out the stuff that is up there. When we moved in we put everything up there that we don’t use everyday. I’m going to have to go through it all and figure out what to do with it. Two rooms of stuff. Where the heck does all that stuff come from anyway? I am going to put some in the knee walls upstairs, and some other in the basement (however even with basement dehumidifiers there’s still only so much you can put in one). Hubby and I were talking, and we have decided that we are going to really go to town and get rid of a lot of extras. What is the point of just having ’stuff’ to have it? I have limited (very limited) cupboard space and I always hated opening my pots and pans cupboard door. It was stuffed to the m-a-x. Storage containers, pots, pans, lids, baking sheets, etc. would all come flying out and I would have to stuff it all back in there. It was ridiculous because I could never find stuff and was always just using what was in the front. So a couple of days ago I had decided I had enough. I went through it and got rid of literally 1/3 of the stuff in there. Good stuff. But that’s exactly what it was - just STUFF. Stuff I didn’t need and would never use, but was keeping it because it was good. I can’t tell you how nice it is now that it is all gone. My heart does a little skip every-time I open the door and can find what I am looking for. Less truly is more. I hope that that approach works upstairs too, and I can find a place for everything.

I’m up at 1:30am and the babe is sleeping. Warrior however, is not. He woke up crying and wouldn’t go back to sleep. He has a cold and has been coughing. We’ve all had colds, and I am afraid to say I think Grace is catching one too. I’m trying not to freak about it. Anyway, Warrior is half asleep on my lap. I am trying my best to be cheerful. Do you know one thing that makes my sick, shallow, sleep deprived, loose belly skin, stretch mark thighed self happy? This:

Now don’t get me wrong. I think she does amazing things for charity. I also appreciate that she helps ‘normalize’ (is that a word I just made up?) having more than two children. And I think she looks beautiful, as always. But somewhere in my warped state of mind I kind of smile and think “Ha. Even if she avoided stretch marks last time, there’s no escaping it this time.” It almost makes it okay that I don’t have 10 nannies and Orlando Vacations every month. Told you I was a sick woman.

Thirteen Things I Have Done While Nursing (my third child):

1. Planted my vegetables
2. Rescued Warrior’s hair and sandwich from the scissors he was attempting to cut them both with(Don’t ask)
3. Pushed a merry go round
4. Vacuumed (Oh yeah, love my sling!)
5. Cut a toddler’s toenails
6. Played Webkinz
7. Washed dishes
8. Folded laundry
9. In a car (I guess that doesn’t technically count as ‘doing something while…’ however I think it is worthy of mentioning, since I managed to do this while remaining in my seat-belt and the baby remaining in her carseat. Talents of the stretched out, saggy, white boobs are good for something!)
10. Sorted coupons
11. Read bed-time stories
12. Played Speed Racer
13. Eaten

I would just like to note that with my first I was all boppy pillow, quiet room, calm environment. My poor, poor third child. At least I feed her.

So when I nurse the babe and she’s half asleep and doesn’t care if I’m paying attention to her, I usually sit at the computer and do something useful. (I would watch television, but we don’t have many good channels and there is rarely something good on. Now if I had a theatre room with theater seating or something else, I’d totally go for the TV option… I digress.) For example tonight I was playing Webkinz. I hate Quizzy’s Corner, but I needed to answer some questions so that we could unlock a new job. I was whizzing right along (oh yeah, 5 year old questions make me feel brilliant!) until I got to this question:

“What does a Seamstress do?”

Answers to choose from:

• Works on sick animals
• Bakes Cakes and Cookies
• Delivers Mail
• Makes and repairs clothing

 Well, I just grabbed a hold of mouse and clicked the correct answer, that’s what I did. And it told me I got the question wrong. I did a double take and realized I clicked on answer number two! Now I am not sure if that means I’m really tired, or that I have cakes and cookies constantly on the mind. Actually, it’s probably both. I can’t stop thinking about sugar. And I can’t stop thinking about sleep. Sugar. Sleep. Sugar. Sleep. I am not sure which wins at this point. Another thing I can’t figure out is how I rate on the pathetic scale after this post. Webkins. My intelligence (or lack thereof). My obsession with food and sleep. Yeah, I think I’m a mom to a new babe.

It’s 11pm. The house is quiet and dark and everyone is sleeping. No, I am not crazy. I would be asleep too. If I could. Little Miss Thang is sleeping in her swing and she awakens every-time the pretty music turns off (which is about every ten minutes), in which I frantically run to the swing, tripping over matchbox cars, to press the button to restart the music. She’s not this bad every night, tonight she has gas, poor baby. Unfortunately she does have a great habit of staying awake until 11-12 every night, although she is usually happy. It doesn’t mesh well with the boys awake/asleep times though. I’m going to figure something out though, I tell ya.

This having three kids thing is definitely a balancing act and everyday we’re getting a little better at it, however it is taking work. Like yesterday for example. We’re outside for two minutes and she gets hungry. I can’t make the boys go back inside after two minutes, so I decided to nurse out there. I live right next to a baseball field, which incidentally had a game going on. So modesty was a necessity (in order to spare the poor adolescents from the sight of my milk bag, blob shaped boobs, of which the sight of would probably scar them forever).  So I drape a blanket loosely over my shoulder and start to nurse. After a second she makes a little whimper, which is promptly followed by a more agitated one. I look down and poor little Princess is being sprayed everywhere by my wonderful over abundant supply of milk. Milk is dripping off her nose, her eyelids are all wet, and her hair has all these white droplets all over it. As I try to adjust her, Warrior comes running over to see what the fuss is all about and rips off my blanket. When I tell him to give it back to me, he thinks it’s the perfect time for a game and takes off, ripping through the yard with my blanket. I look down and the baby, all wet and covered in milk, is looking at me with big eyes and she’s not eating. So yeah, I’m sitting out in plain sight with my shapeless, bright white, milk bag boob just hanging out of my shirt. Perfect!

Another thing that practically requires a miracle is getting a family photo. Here’s our first attempt at one:

(In case you can’t see, Warriors mouth is wide open and his tongue is hanging out a mile, in some strange pose I don’t think he could ever replicate again, and Forest is showing off his leg agility, and the poor babe has look on her face as though she has just robbed the wine racks.) Oh well, it will be one that we’ll pause at, as we’re flipping pages in the photo-books in 30 years, and just giggle at.

Every day is definitely getting easier though. I took them all grocery shopping the other day. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. And I planted my garden with one hand. (Let it be known I am thankful for all my limbs!) I’ve still managed my daily shower. It’s working… there are just a few things that need tweaked. Like the sleep thing. I don’t care if my son wants to turn me into a nude-ist. I just want my sleep.