Ever have one of those days?

Yesterday was not one of our better days. Ruby was in a... mood. She was not into napping. Not into eating. Not into being nice. She was whiny and cranky and hard to please. It is these days that kill me. I cannot stand the sound of the whining. It makes me crazy. Literally.

She wouldn't nap so I had to take a shower while she was awake. In the 5 minutes that it took me to shower, she managed to unravel the toilet paper roll all over the floor and then pull back the shower curtain to get the floor and toilet paper all wet and soggy.

Also I'm dealing with getting our new tenants settled in. I'm not used to the extra noises in my house and am completely on edge. Plus they don't have a phone set up yet so they've been upstairs asking to borrow my phone to call the phone company.

Also my brother bought Steve's old car that we had sitting the driveway. Yesterday was the day he and his fiance came to pick it up. So there were issues around the insurance, transferring the ownership to him, yadda yadda yadda.

Yesterday was also the day I decided that I wanted needed a blackberry. I spent a good chunk of the morning on the phone with the phone company (Telus) trying to figure out the best plan, etc. (While juggling Ruby to keep her happy) Then I was to go to the Telus store in the afternoon to pick out and activate the new blackberry.

This is where it gets good.

I go to the Telus store with Ruby. I get there and plop her in her little stroller and head inside. I didn't bother to strap her in because I didn't think we'd be there long and it's a pain in the ass. (see where this is going?) But it turns out I was there longer than planned. Ruby was a little crank pot the whole time. Any toy I gave her to appease her was flung across the store. I was getting flustered trying to set up a new plan, pick out the right phone/blackberry, and then get it set up all while rocking the stroller, making goofy faces and sounds, and chasing after flung toys in the store.

I was almost in the home stretch and was just learning how to set it up to check my emails and I was not looking at Ruby in the stroller because, thankfully she was finally settled down and quiet.

And then I heard the SMACK and then the screeeeeeeaming. I turn to see my daughter sprawled on her back on the (tiled) floor of the Telus store. AND the place was busy. EVERYBODY turned to see me pick the screaming baby up off the floor.

The little shit had decided she didn't feel like being in the stroller anymore and squirmed out from between the seat and the tray. Not a big space but she managed. And then she flipped out onto the floor, banging her head.

Now, we have hardwood floors at home and Ruby is learning to crawl/pull-up/walk right now so let's just say that I've learned to distinguish the different degrees of crying to assess how bad the fall is.

This one wasn't the worst she'd experienced and I knew she would be fine.

But fuck if I didn't feel (and look) like an idiot.

Luckily some lady started making faces and talking to her so she calmed down enough so that I could finish what I was doing and hightail it out of there.

I then drove to pick Steve up from work. He wasn't ready yet so I sat in the back seat trying to entertain Ms. Grumpy Pants. The sun started shining in her eyes and it pissed her off so I held up my arm to block the sun. Damn if she didn't take her little E.T. finger and put it to my freshly tattooed wrist and DIG HER CLAWS into my scabbed arm. YOWCH!

Poor Steve was all excited about the new blackberry on the drive home and kept asking questions. Finally I said, "Could you just please not talk to me right now? I don't want to talk or listen to anybody's noise right now." Which set the tone for an edgy evening.

Later in the evening I happened to look in Ruby's mouth and what did I find there? I'll be damned if one of her top teeth hasn't finally, FINALLY cut through her gums.

Out comes the liquid baby Tempra.

Out comes the wine.

Both seemed to do a fine job of at least temporarily fixing some of our problems, sending Ruby into sleepy land and sending me into happy, warm buzz, relax on the couch land and later to sleepy land myself.

Today's to-do list:
Go to Pharmacy - need more Tempra.
Stop at liquor store on the way - need more wine!
(Also, learn to use this damn Blackberry!)

Runner's High

After a long, shitty week I woke up this morning and shuffled the songs on my ipod and went out for a kickass jog. The sun was shining but the air was cool and brisk. The music in my ears was loud and upbeat (and a little raucous). Everyone I passed on the street smiled and said "good morning" (my music was loud but I can read lips). I was out all on my own, doing something for myself. I only had to concern myself with moving and pushing my body. I went further and faster than I have in some time.

And now I have a kickass runner's high.

Hypothetical question

If you hypothetically had a baby that was probably going to be your only baby and she was a really really really independent little thing that would allow ZERO cuddling and often tried to push away from you when you were holding her and you sometimes even snuck into her room at night to scoop her from her crib while she was sleeping because you thought that surely then she would snuggle in your arms, but even then she still kicked and flailed to get away from you in her sleep, and you took her swimming and she loved the water all the time but then one time she was a little bit nervous and suddenly CLUNG to your neck and pushed her cheek to your face....

...would it be really wrong to hypothetically go just a little bit deeper in the water so she would keep clinging (or even cling tighter!) because it felt so good??

Hypothetically, would that make someone a bad/mean mom???

All I wanted was a cup of coffee

I'm not a regular coffee drinker. But today I was thinking I would like a cup. I have little mini-filters for such occasions. As my water was boiling in the pot, I frantically searched but could not find them.

So I broke down into tears - which is a tad bit of an overreaction, wouldn't you say?

This week seems particularly long. Steve usually has Mondays off (he works Tues-Sat) but this week he had to work Monday and is working 6 days in a row. He's also working 5:30am - 5:30pm which is 3 hours longer than usual.

Firstly - we share a vehicle. Usually he comes home on his lunch around noon and has lunch with Ruby and I and then we drive him back to work and have the vehicle for the afternoon. Except this week he isn't getting his lunch break and can't come home at all. I'm trapped in my home without a vehicle, for 6 long days. Also, I apparently really needed that 45 minute visit to break up the day, because I am missing it this week. Why else does the day seem sooooo long.

When Steve gets home from these long busy days at work - he's totally disconnected. He can't shut work off and it's all he can talk about. I mentioned to him yesterday that I had a headache and he looked at me for a second and then carried on with talking about how many loads of lumber he shipped out and how one of his yard workers broke his finger. So much for me, lets get back to you, shall we? When we go to bed at night I feel like I'm sharing my bed with a roommate. I tried to snuggle up to his back last night and he farted.

I had been running in the morning before he went to work but with him starting at 5:30am, I can't run unless I want to do it at 4am (I don't). I've been getting out and walking everyday but the weather has been hot and I am a sweaty, tired mess when I get home. I tried running when he got home from work but again, the warmth of the evening was too much and made me feel miserable.

Ruby and I have walked to the grocery store, Walmart, the veggie market, the pharmacy and have also walked around the neighborhood many, many times. My hips were actually aching last night from so much walking/pushing the stroller. I've also mowed and raked the lawn and cleaned like a motherfucker. I'm running out of shit to keep myself occupied with! There's only so much laundry, dishes, vacuuming, dusting that a person can do before they get a little stir-crazy.

And could Ruby be any more whiny? Would those teeth break through already please!!!!?

It also seems to be particularly difficult not to eat "recreationally".

It's only a week and the overtime $$$ is much needed.

Just.... where the hell are my coffee filters!!?

Sweet Grapes

When I was in my 2WW with IVF#2, I remember a day that I was sure it didn't work and I was not going to be pregnant. And I was devastated. I knew I couldn't keep going through treatments for the toll they were taking on me physically, emotionally and financially. I became desperate to find a way to get on with my life. (And desperate to soften the blow of another BFN.) So I got on the internet and I ordered a book that I thought would help me.

Before the book had time to be delivered I peed on a stick and got two lines.

When the book came, I quietly put it away somewhere and didn't want to see it again for fear that if I touched it or even looked at it, it would surely jinx my pregnancy.

Then the other day I was in my computer room and Ruby was playing on the floor. I saw she had pulled a book off my shelf and did a double take when I saw which book she had...

It seemed so ironic and weird that of all the books on the shelf she had pulled that one out. I sat and stared for a moment, it was such an odd sight for me to be seeing. I felt like I was looking at the crossroads of my life. One of my lives was sitting on the floor with my other life in her lap. At one point in time, each of these paths had a 50% chance possibility of being the one that I was to walk down - they both couldn't exist. And here I was, staring them both in the face. I am not sure I can accurately describe how it felt.

It was like the universe was sending me a reminder of how far I've come and what I've endured to get here, and to make sure that I appreciate every second of the life that I have now.

And I can assure you that I do.

~I know this is a sensitive and painful topic for some, but if there is anyone who feels that that they are at the point in their life where this book might help to you or someone you know, please let me know and I will be happy to package it up and mail it to you for free.

Reunion. Goodbye.

Today Ruby met the lady that brought her into the world. Well, technically I suppose it was more of a reunion, because they met about 9 months ago.

I got an email a couple weeks back notifying me that the midwife group that I went to during my pregnancy was having a picnic and all the babies that they delivered in the past year were invited. And I wasn't going to go. But last night I thought about it and ran to my computer to check the email to see if I had missed it and found out that it was today, this afternoon.

And I realized I should go. I needed to.

And when I got out of the car and I saw the woman that delivered Ruby, standing under a shelter in the park, out of the rain - I got a big fat lump in my throat and my eyes welled up.

Ok, enough with the emotions already. Look around! Nobody else is crying, you sissy!

Deep breath. Carry on.

It was quite a busy picnic and I knew nobody but Ruby so we just sat at a table and played around and sipped a Starbucks and nibbled on a treat until one of the two midwives that took such good care of me came over to say hello. We chatted for a bit and then the other midwife came over - the one who actually delivered Ruby and I asked if I could take a picture of them with her. The one that actually delivered Ruby, held her on her knee and it was all I could do to get Ruby to look at the camera. She just stared at the woman who brought her into the world. Almost like she was awestruck?

Ok, maybe it was the sparkly necklace she had on, I don't know but I got all fucking emotional again.

Why was nobody else getting all misty eyed about meeting up with the woman/women who delivered their babies??!? Everybody was all nonchalant, busy drinking herbal tea and breastfeeding and eating organic cake.

And why was the most popular conversation topic, "When are you having another one?"
*winkwink* *nudgenudge*

Can't we just be happy and enjoy the ones that we have now? Can't we???


So I got my picture that I wanted and I got a short little visit with two of the best midwives I could have ever hoped for.

And I suppose there's a good chance that it was also the last time I might see them, for in all likelihood I may never need a midwife again... Which might explain the emotions that nobody else had.

Reflecting

I came, I saw, I stagetted. I survived. I actually had some fun.

But 12 hours of "celebrating"... is a bit too much for me at my ripe old age of 34. It started at noon and ended (for me anyways) at around midnight. Which meant, "ouch" for yesterday.

Luckily though I did get to come home at the end of the night and I was in the door, in my bed by about 12:30am or so. I was ever so happy to be able to kiss my baby goodnight and wake up in my own bed in the morning.

I was also very lucky that Steve treated me so well yesterday. He took on the parenting role completely and so I was able to sleep in and rest and lick my wounds for as long as it took (it took a long time). He told me that I deserved a night out and I deserved a day off and I deserved to sleep and rest and do whatever I wanted to do the next day. I'm so thankful for that. I did sweet fuck all yesterday.

Today, after the fog has lifted somewhat, I'm feeling thankful for where I'm at in my life. A place where those party girl nights are so few and far between and there are other things, much more important things - things that make me so much more happy and content than a night out could ever make me. And I think that all the days and nights of worry leading up to last Saturday are because I know that that's not really me anymore. That I don't enjoy that kind of night so much anymore. Sure I do still enjoy myself a cocktail now and then, but those big BIG party nights just don't do it for me anymore.

Or perhaps they never did.

What if those big piss up, party down nights were never really my thing? What if that's just what I did because I didn't know what else to do with myself and it just seemed like the thing to do? What else did I have going on? How else would I get the attention that I seemed to crave so badly? What else would fill the void? What else would help me numb out my feelings?

Having a little reminder of what my old life looked like really slams it home how unhappy and unfulfilled I truly was back then. I couldn't be happier with where my life is right now. I am not missing out on anything. I don't care if people think I'm silly or sucky or whatever because none of that matters one little bit. I have all I could ever ask for in my life and my heart wants for nothing.

I need a pep talk!

Today I'm going out for a stagette. It's shaping up to be super fun - we're going on a professionally created scavenger hunt during the day, then appies and cocktails at a girlfriend's house, then a limo to a comedy dinner theatre, then limo back to girlfriends house for... more drinking and fun I suppose. The girls that are going are all really fun, lots of laughs and super easy to get along with.

And I so totally deserve a night out with the girls and a night off from housewife/mommy duties.

So why do I feel so nervous about it that I have been losing sleep and this morning woke up with some... "stomach issues"?

I'm nervous about the hangover that I will inevitably have. Yes, I know I am in control of this but anyone who's ever been out on a girls night with a bunch of fun loving, good time girls - knows how hard it can be to say no or to go too slow. I do plan on implementing some strategies to minimize the damage but the fact remains that even after a mellow night, I suffer. I know I will suffer tomorrow.

Along with that will come guilt. I'm so scared of the inevitable guilt. Does anyone else get this? Or I am the only mental case?

And there's the overnight thing. I HATE overnights. I'm contemplating coming home but I will need to take an expensive cab ride. And I will get ribbed from the girls. People don't get my thing with sleep overs and it's hard to explain to people.

And also - it's a LONG time to be away from my girl. I will worry about her. I *know* she'll be fine but I can't help but worry about her and miss her. God I will miss her.

But I'm going back to work in December and Ruby will be going to daycare 4 days a week. That's going to be a big shock to her (and me) and I have been trying to tell myself that she needs to start spending some time away from me and with other people - so she can cope better when daycare starts. So wouldn't this be a good start? Part of me says, yes. Definitely. Part of me says, who fucking cares - I want my baby!!!

How lame am I? The Tara of 5 years ago would roll her eyes at the Tara of today and then she would order another drink and shake her head in disgust.

No, I would NEVER, EVER want to go back to the Tara of 5 years ago, but I would really like to just go out and have a good time without all the fucking mental and emotional baggage.

I could sure use some encouragement and/or a pep talk. I know Saturday is a slow day for blogging but if you happen to come across this post I could sure use a shot in the arm.

Bullets - because it's 3:20am

*I've lost my sleep mojo. It's been gone for about 2 weeks. I need it back desperately but don't know how to get it. I have little trouble falling asleep at night but it's staying asleep that I can't seem to get right. I just can't get into a deep sleep. I am awake every hour looking at the clock. And sometimes, just like right now, I wake up and cannot fall back to sleep. It makes me want to cry.

*We've decided to rent out our basement suite. I SWORE I would never do this but de$perate time$ call for de$perate mea$ure$. I THINK I've found a nice couple to rent it but until they're actually here living under me, in my home - how will I really know? It scares the CRAP out of me.

* We had been using the suite as a recreation and storage area and it was fully furnished - but it's being rented empty. So it's like we've been moving for the past 2 weeks. We've had to pack up everything and either move it upstairs and find a home for it, or ship it to my parents house (45 minute drive) to store it in their basement.

* I am feeling super fat and flubby lately. I really need to get some weight off but I'm having a hard time finding the place in my head that I need to get to to make that happen. I just feel like I'm being dragged around in life with no time to recharge my mental battery. Not sleeping doesn't help either. One feeds off the other.

* I am going to a stagette this Saturday and I have SUPER mixed feelings about it. I will be gone for 24 hours. My mom will come here to watch Ruby during the day (I leave at about noon) and then she'll go home and Steve will watch her when he gets off work. I just know I'm going to fucking worry sick about her all night. Steve's never had her on his own overnight before and I know he's totally capable but I worry that he might slack and something might happen. The other day he was giving her a bath and I happened to walk by and see him taking a pee while she was in the tub. The toilet and tub are separated by a wall. And he was just standing there peeing, peeing, peeing... she could have been doing some deep sea diving for all he knew. He gets mad when I say I'm worried about him looking after her.

* The stagette is an overnighter. I do don't overnighters very well. I hate sleeping anywhere other than my own bed. I get bad anxiety attacks. But if I don't stay it will be like my childhood all over again when I am the only kid at the sleepover who needs to go home because she "can't" stay at other people's houses.

* There's going to be some heavy partying going on too. I don't want to be hungover and sick and depressed the next day but I will be. And I'll have to slide right back into my mommy role and that's no fun with a hangover. Plus? I'm not the party girl I once was. Not sure I can handle this shit anymore. I'm really nervous about the whole thing.

*I signed Ruby and I up for Mommy and Me Aquafit at the local pool - it's every Wednesday for 6 weeks. This means I will be in a bathing suit which strikes fear into the very core of my being. I realize that 30 minutes of aquafit isn't going to be the workout to make me lose 25lbs but Ruby LOVES the water and it's something different to do. It happens to fall on the days of the mommy meetups so I can no longer attend them. No sadness over that schedule conflict.

*I got the pedicure from HELL. The chick sliced a chunk of my heel off with a cradle blade and I've been limping for 4 days. I'm fucking choked about it because I wanted to start jogging again (it's been a few weeks, maybe a month) but every time I walk it bleeds and hurts. Not exactly what you expect when you go for some pampering.

*Ruby's daycare lady called last night to ask a couple of questions. We got talking about her going to daycare and I said how it makes my stomach to a flip-flop to think about being away from her every day. She said, "Yes it's really hard in the begginning. Hard for both of you. But it gets better." And I started to cry. Hard for me - I will deal with me. Hard for Ruby - breaks my heart and I cannot stand the thought of it. (This may require a post of it's own in the future.)

...well, it's now going on almost 4am. I had hoped that getting all this shit out would release it like doves at a wedding and I would feel all peaceful and happy and I would be able to fall into a deep sleep. Instead I'm wide awake still. Maybe I'll go watch some infomercials. I'd love to go into Ruby's room and scoop her out of bed to snuggle her (yeah right, she hates cuddling). But I know that will just wake her up and there's no reason for all of us to suffer.

Mommy wars

This whole "Mommy Wars" bullshit? Can kiss my ass.

I attend this this group of about six mommies/babies that meet up once a week. It started from a group that I attended at the Health Clinic once a week until Ruby "graduated" at 6 months old. Some moms decided that it would be nice to continue the meetups on our own, once a week.

But I may bow out. The Mommy Wars is a battle I have no interest in waging and it seems to be going strong in this group. There is one mom in particular who grates on me. She has a lot of "important" "friends that she talks about all the time. One friend is a surgeon, she has two friends that are "professional" photographers, one that is a lactation nurse, and her husband is a professional at absolutely everything. Her baby could sign milk at 3 months old. She is still breastfeeding and feels that giving a bottle to her Precious would ruin her life forever (she talks about it as I feed Ruby a delicious bottle of formula). She sews toys for her baby and also makes her own baby food. Her baby eats everything she is given and loves it. The baby gives her mom hugs and kisses all the time too. Her baby can also *fly, is training to run a half-marathon and can speak three different languages. She might also shit pink rose petals, I'm not sure. She continually talks about her wonderful cabin on the lake that she retreats to every weekend with her perfect family.

Today she brought this frilly dilly pair of pink pants to the group because her daughter is so "slender" that she would never fit into them. She offered them to me while saying, "If they're too pink for you, I understand." Because, you know... I have tattoos and that means that I would never let my daughter wear **pink.

My eyes hurt from rolling so much. It's taxing. And hardly how I want to spend two to three hours a week. I'm not playing into the ***one-upmanship game.

Prior to this last month, I thought the Mommy Wars were battles that uptown mommies waged in their fancy SUVs, designer sunglasses, yoga gear and venti Starbucks coffees. Prior to two months ago I'm not sure I'd even heard the term and didn't have a clue that this went on.

So I'll go to one or two more meetups to see if it's worth my time to continue. If not, I'll take my future honor role student and LPGA champion and we'll go play with our toys somewhere else.

*Maybe not, but it wouldn't surprise me to hear her say it.

**Pink she can wear. But frilly dilly pants? Not in any color.

***Oh yeah? Then why did I tell her Ruby rode a pony this past weekend??

Four Generations

My grandma lives on the opposite side of the country from me. She is 83 and had previously sworn off travel for the remainder of her life. It had been tearing at my heart that Ruby might never get to meet her Great Grandma - her only living Great Grandparent and a very special lady.

I cannot tell you how thrilled I was when I found out that she had agreed to come this way for a week long visit. It was the thought of meeting Ruby that convinced her to make one last trip out west.

I enjoyed the visit immensely and tried to soak up every single minute that I possible could.

I never thought I would have the opportunity to be a part of four generations of women in the same room together. Ever. I mean, Grandma was getting older and was more than two thousand miles away. And Ruby... well, for a while it looked like Ruby might never exist.

The closest that I thought I would get would be two generations, and a lot of pain. This two generation picture was taken the day after I found out my first IVF cycle didn't work. I had to be at a wedding that day and the hurt was overwhelming. It was hard to be dressed up and pretending. I can see the pain in my eyes though...

To be able to replace the above picture doesn't take away the pain of that failed cycle or the years of hurt that infertility brought. I will never forget that pain and heartache. But having the opportunity to create the next picture, makes me realize that there is little I wouldn't endure to get to this place: