Nose Dive

I keep bringing myself back to the times in my life that I've pulled up to a dumpster and just threw up to 60% of everything I owned. The only things I really kept throughout these years were my many books. I always dreamed of having a room in my moderately sized mansion that just had walls and walls of books. I was going to have a personal library. A library to me was hitting the big time. To not only afford all of those book, but to put them on a shelf like little trophies to show off. I would invite friends over and have tea in my library. I would cozy in with a warm beverage on rainy days to be surrounded by these stories of adventure while I traveled elsewhere in a book. When I was in elementary school whenever anyone asked me, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" I'd quickly respond with historian. The questioning adult would give me a puzzled look and I would give my practiced speech of becoming a teacher of history or English while I got my PHD and as soon as I accomplished the Doctor title I would then consume my studies with whatever fit my fancy and read books all day long and do interviews for the history channel. Those historians always seemed to know everything about something. That was my dream. Books.

Rainbows

Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.

Who's this bitch and why won't she shut the hell up????

That's right. My inner bitch is raging today. Well, my inner bitch and Emo are having a knife fight. No one is winning, its an equal dispute.

Nicolas Cagey

I keep starting a blog and never finishing it. Either on the computer or in my head I've written quite a few blogs I just can't seem to get over here and type the damn thing out.

I even started writing it on my phone just to get into some rambly rant thing that just didn't jive right. So here I am, attempt number twenty. Put a stamp on it.

I've been writing a lot in my apocalypse blog. I've gotten sudden inspiration for it. It just started pouring out. Maybe it's because I've felt caged lately. Sequestered. Itching to get out but no where to really go. I'm relearning myself as a person. I'm Mom now. I'm trying not to get too wrapped up in it, though. I think that's how women become twisted and catty. I'm Mom but I'm also me. Zombie and music loving knit hippy. Yup, that's me. But now I change diapers, worry over that noise I just heard and I make sure to read the latest Parent magazine from cover to cover. O, and Pinterest is my bro. I read more recipes than anything else recently. Maybe that's why I'm cagey, I haven't read a book since I got back from NC.

 Cagey... ha...

Nicolas Cagey.

But anyway... that's been my life as of now. I'm pretty surprised as the amount of traffic my blog has gotten. One post and it doubled it's all time views in a week. Maybe I'll actually stick with it this time. Eh. Who knows? I do need to get out of the house though. I keep missing my knitting group. I feel like I shifted "my week" to Thursday to Thursday so I could catch it and I still realize it's Saturday and then I'm all, "Dammit, man! What happened to Thursday?!"

I think I'm slowly overdosing on coffee and Cheers. I really do need to start reading again. I can't lose myself in the zombie apocalypse. There is too much life around me for that. Too much pint sized life. I'm starting to see what people mean by seeing life through their eyes. Her expressions, her smile, the way she blows raspberries... everything. She's just adorable. Her eyes follow you across the room. She even does a sad face if you walk away from her and she wasn't done playing yet.

And what is it with kids and losing ONE SOCK?!

 

Boob Milk Guilt

I'm not super woman.
I'm not even super girl, or one of teen titans.
Aw hell, Ben 10 has it on me.

I feel like I'm constantly going all day but I don't get anywhere. I'm on a treadmill on the moon.
I am also still not able to claim my body as mine just yet. I have to make sure I'm eating enough to make enough breast milk. None of my clothes fit and I feel like I'm carrying around a deflated tire. I'm constantly thirsty because of the breastfeeding. Sometimes BabyG refuses to go to anyone else... Or anywhere else. It's exhausting.

A month and a half in and I feel like I can finally catch my breath but to what avail?  The apartment is a mess. It takes me two days to do one load of laundry and I'm lucky to make myself a meal much less have one prepared for Hubby when he gets off of work.

There is so much guilt associated with motherhood as well. No wonder women get depressed after having a baby. The weight of it all is almost unbearable. So much pressure on all sides. I'm somewhere between "Don't ever let your baby cry" and "cry it out" just to keep MY sanity. I'm still a person and if I want to brush my teeth without holding a baby, well, she's just going to have to be pissed about it out of harms way in her safe area to scream in. I refuse to feel guilty about her being upset if 20% of the time I just let her be pissed.
I've been reading a lot of theories on infants and how to deal with them. Also, since I'm breastfeeding I have to avoid certain foods and if I even smell alcohol I'm considered a terrible wretch and should be burned at the stake. Seriously?! Sometimes a glass of wine nearing the end of my day is the ONLY thing to relax me enough to sleep. Coffee is a must. Some days I avoid coffee AND my treat of wine. Sometimes I have coffee and no wine, other times I have TWO glasses of wine after having no coffee all day.

Some of you are hiking those eyebrows way up into your hairline. Ya know what? Shaddup. Ya heard me. I just got all Brooklyn on you and I'm from North Carolina! Where kids run around shirtless and don't shower for weeks at a time. I've seen facebook photos of people bottle feeding their infants iced tea and even soda. I've watched teen moms smoke and do drugs in the same room as their months old children. So don't you judge me about my small indiscretions. Got it? Honestly, I feel as though I am the average new mom. There is no shame in moderately giving into your mild addictions from prebaby days, ladies. None! Don't misread me though-- if you did heavy drugs or drank to the extreme I am NOT advocating that behavior (even though people equate my two cups of coffee to a crack addiction). I'm just saying don't feel guilty because you had a glass of wine with dinner and didn't pump and dump.