I have been a long time supporter of natural child birth. I was lucky enough to have gotten one (despite my doctor and hospital staff trying to induce AND give me pain relieving drugs during my labor) with my 3rd child and again at home, with my 4th. My last birth was something I am not sure I can explain in words. It was perfect. Maybe I will share my birth stories at another time.
I won’t go into details about how my first birth felt like I’d failed in so many ways, despite having a good outcome and my doctor exclaiming, “That was a perfect twin birth!” I’ll just say, it has a lot to do with why I am so passionate about natural child birth and breast feeding now.
The article above delves into all the things a labor induced with pitocin could cause. From my experience, it’s been true. My oldest, from my induced w/pitocin labor, is on the autism spectrum. We still don’t know where. We’re still searching for answers. Truthfully, I don’t care what the cause was in relation to my son. I just want to help him and focus on the now. But what if we could identify a cause and stop it from happening to OTHER children? That’s my goal in posting this. More research is definitely needed, but this is something we as women, as mothers, should be looking at and should be aware of.
So another weight loss kick has begun for me. My hope and prayer is that this is the FINAL one. That this will TRULY be change for me.
I have found, with many things in my life, that I can’t seem to focus on more than one thing at a time. Meaning I can be completely, 130% committed to something and whatever that thing is will work out well. But everything else in my life will start to fall apart.
WHY IS THAT?? What is my defect??
It’s taken me years to learn how to juggle kids, husband, house, etc and even then those things are too often neglected in one way or another. Kids are never neglected. Husband sometimes is. House usually is. Other things almost always.
I think this is a HUGE reason that I struggle so much committing to weight loss because when I do, the kids and the husband really start to feel neglected too.
It always seems like everyone else is so able to keep on top of everything and when they add something else to their list of “to-dos” it somehow always seems to work out. How come I can’t be like that?
I am not in any way blaming anyone else like the husband or the kids. It’s not their fault. It’s mine. I can’t seem to juggle everything and when I try to do something else with my full effort, I can only do that by letting a lot of other things fall to the way side. Does anyone else have this problem or understand what I’m talking about??
I think it has a TON to do with why I keep saying I want to lose weight, go back to school, open a restaurant (or bakery!), join play groups for the kids, take a photography/cake decorating/glass blowing class, get a job, etc, etc, etc and why I don’t actually ever do any of it.
I am always so afraid of what will happen after I do so many things that I never get the courage to actually do any of them. I think I am run by fear. Which is a startling and completely disheartening realization about myself.
What you may ask? What sucked so much that I was willing to put such a profane word in my title?
My car was broken into. And not “broken” into literally because that would imply someone smashed a window with a hammer or their fist, but instead someone walked up to my car, opened my unlocked door and threw my stuff around, stole my purse and another bag that had zip in it, but still.
And when I first realized it .. first realized that my car had been broken into I sort of felt nothing but like a dumbass for leaving my car unlocked. Although .. I really hadn’t meant to. I swore I locked it. I obviously didn’t.
But then driving back from dropping off my kids at school, after the police report had been taken and me still feeling okay about it, I saw a white bag with blue straps lying under a neighbor’s truck and I kind of felt my heart in my throat. That was my bag. My crappy, formula company bag (that my husband placed in my car as a trash bag a long time ago) and I felt horrified. That was mine. And I didn’t put it there! I drove around it like 4 times, wondering if it was really mine. I kept thinking it wasn’t. Maybe it was someone else’s. Maybe it was a crumpled sweater with the same coloring and my eyes were just playing tricks on me.
But I finally got up the courage and pulled over, got out of my car, walked over to it and immediately knew, before I’d even made it halfway across the street. It was mine. With my stuff. My trash.
I felt incredibly violated. Dirty, even. Who the fuck took my stuff? Who the fuck felt the need to dig through my car trash? And now has my purse. With my military I.D., my Costco card, my debit card, my older kids’ safety I.D.s from school. My heart is sinking even more just thinking about it. I feel so … exposed.
Whoever this person is knows all about me. My full name, my husband’s name, his social, our children’s names….
I can’t think. And I want something to do. And there’s nothing for me to do. This fucking sucks.
My oldest is on my mind a lot right now.
I parked in the parking lot about .5 mile from my kids’ school and walked with my two youngest. It was a lovely walk. The weather is fantastic here today which I was more than grateful for considering 49 out of 50 states have snow!
We were a few minutes early (like always!), so we walked around the school talking about cars, colors, shapes, numbers, etc. It’s the little things.
The bell soon rang and we were met with my oldest son and a few minutes later, my only daughter. We don’t always walk so my daughter asked if we were. I said yes and she ran off to tell all of her friends who walk alone to walk with us.
A little back story: recently when we walk, my daughter is distancing herself from her little brothers and I. She’s stretching her wings. I’m cool with it. But her and her brother, while in the same grade, do not really share the same friends. My daughter is a girly girl. Bows in her hair, dresses everyday, cute shoes, loves pink and dolls and babies, etc, etc, etc. The kids in her class love her. So do the teachers. Boys want to hang out with her, as do the girls. You know what I’m talking about. She’s her father’s daughter when it comes to interacting with people. Outgoing, funny, and very easy to get along with. My son however does not have the same ease with people as she does. He’s more like me. He’s shy to the point of being invisible. And he has no idea what to say when someone actually speaks to him. It’s like a total deer in headlights moment. It’s awful.
Back to the story, we begin to walk and my daughter’s friends aren’t around so I think maybe they won’t be walking with us after all. My daughter assumes the same. After the crosswalk, they all pop up and off she goes.
My oldest decides to try to walk with them. I am so very proud of him for getting the courage to go up to them and try to speak to them. But they just looked at him like, “What are you doing here?!?” Some didn’t even notice him and my daughter saw him and responded, but then returned to her original conversation.
He pulls away from them, but not completely. He lunges forward and decides to try again. Similar response. My heart sunk in my chest. He so wanted to walk with them. Just walk! I doubt he would’ve even needed to talk. He just wanted to feel included.
After being turned away a 2nd time, he stopped short, thought for a minute, put a bounce back into his step and came back to us. He talked to my 3 year old for a few and then asked me if we could talk about his day. I said yes, and we did.
I’ve been here before.
Years ago I started a blog over on Blogspot. Not only was it unsuccessful, but I was at a time in my life where there wasn’t much else for me to do but complain. Is it really a mystery why my following was 3 people?
Today, I am in a completely different place.
For example, 5 years ago I am quite positive I had better grammar. Two kids in and a husband gone on a regular basis and my grammar was still with me. It used to be one of the things I loved most about myself, my ability to spot grammatical errors in everything!
Today, I’m much less concerned with grammatics. (That’s probably not a word. I am famous for word making.) And much more happy to write how I speak. I think that’s texting though. And Facebook. It’s made me very aware of how I speak. And wanting to translate that speech out loud onto the computer screen, I have lost a bit of caring when it comes to grammar. Aw, well. Despite my grammatical errors (which will happen, frequently), I think I’ll still be understood.
5 years ago, I had 2 children. Twins. Lovely. A husband who was away at war. Gut wrenching. And I was a depressed, barely sane woman who would venture to Wal-Mart for ice cream and frozen dinners in her PJs. 5 years ago, I was a nobody.
Today, I’m somebody. Not somebody you’d see on television or movies, or maybe not even someone you’ll hear speaking on the radio trying to win a prize, but I am somebody now because I believe it. I have 4 kids today. And a husband who works 45 minutes away and is home 3 weekends out of every month. That pesky one weekend a month deal takes him away once a month.
5 years ago my life revolved around my husband. And everything, including my children and myself got neglected because of it.
Today, I still get neglected, but it’s my complete devotion to my entire family that does it. And I don’t mind. Most of the time. I make 3 homemade meals a day. I pack lunches as much as possible. I send snacks. I help with homework. I sing lullabies (albeit made up ones, I can never remember the proper ones). I rock babies. I nurse my youngest some days for what seems like 24 hours straight. I clean the house. I wash our clothes. I do as much as I possibly can, with the exception of some Facebook time, to make sure my family knows, without a doubt, that I will try to make them as happy as I can. And if it’s within my power, I can and will most likely do it.
I know many women who can’t stand being stay at home moms. I personally, cannot think of something I’d rather do with my time while my children are small. And we are incredibly lucky that I can do it, what with the flailing economy and all. Although 4 kids in childcare would probably make it impossible for me to work anyhow. Darn those crazy childcare rates!
I think a lot. I write stuff in my head regularly. I am hoping this will give me an outlet for that “stuff.” I mean, I must have things to say right?
I guess we’ll see. 🙂