Finding My Balance

When I left my full-time job a few years ago, I looked forward to the balance I thought I would find in my life. I had a vision of how I would have less stress about keeping the house clean and tidy all the time.

Fast forward to a land without cleaning fairies and unicorns of timeliness. Fast forward to a land of reality.

A short time into my new "job" of motherhood, I realized that finding balance is a struggle no matter what job you have or role you play. Once kids are added to the mix, there's a never ending supply of dishes and laundry that need washing and putting away. The floors always need a vacuum run over them because of the piles of crumbs that magically fall off kids as they walk through the house - even when there's no food in sight. There are always toys to pick up.

There's always a kids who needs a drink, or a snack, or a diaper change, or a potty break, or a toy that's out of reach, or sticky face cleaned.

There's also the moment - usually about 2 p.m. - where I realize that I've forgotten to eat or drink anything yet that day. Then there's bills and work (at home and usually at night, but it's still there).

Of course, in the midst of all this is the fun of actually being with the kids. Seeing my girls through all their milestones so far has been far more rewarding than anything else I've experienced in life. Having the opportunity to put Play-Doh before a PowerPoint was a good call. It works for us.

But, finding the balance between all the must-dos of childcare and home maintenance and the fun playtime and learning opportunities is still a struggle. If I had my way, I'd spend all day playing with the girls, planning fun learning activities and making all sorts of crafts. If I did what I knew "needed" to be done, I'd have a super clean house, but I'd feel guilty all the time for never spending the time with my girls that they deserve.

I know if these are the worst of our problems, I should be thankful. I know that "there will be time to clean later." But, sometimes it would just be nice to feel like there is time in the day to be a fun, attentive mother and a super duper housekeeper. There are days I feel like I've got it down, but there are days where I also feel like I'm being pulled 100 directions. Such is life and motherhood, I guess?

For those of you who have done this Mom thing longer than me - whether you work inside your home, outside your home or your kids are your work - please feel free to share your insighst here.  Any tips or tricks you have to finding the balance between "must-do" things and fun/learning kid time would be great to try.

Back in the Swing of Things

For the past two years, one of the freelance jobs I've had has kept me locked to my computer for three hours every weeknight as I would edit content for the website of a company that reports on international telecommunications news. Sound thrilling, right?

It was a good job, working with people who I liked, albeit never actually met in person because none of the people I worked with were even in the same state as me. Most weren't even in the same time zone. Long story short, the company is being bought out by another company and in two weeks, they will no longer need my services.

No hard feelings. This is an "it is what it is" situation. To be honest, The Hubby and I have talked for a long, long time about how much easier out lives would be if I could cut the cord with this job. No more rushing the kids to bed before I had to sign on for my shift. No more worries about scurrying through a dinner out on a weeknight. No more Fridays trapped at home unless we'd planned far enough ahead for me to change my shift.

It's been hard to give up the prime kids-are-asleep hours when I could be doing laundry or dishes or just general picking up around the house and at the computer for a fixed set of hours instead, but it was income that helped make things flow well around here, so I stuck it out.

And now, the decision has been made for me. Though I'm admittedly a little nervous about the change, I a so very excited to have my time back. I feel like I'm being set free from something I might not have had the guts to walk away from otherwise.

Here's what I'm already looking forward to:

• An upcoming adult dinner that I won't have to beg a night off to attend
• No rushing through the bedtime routine. I like the one-on-one time with each of my girls at bedtime, and now there's won't be a specific time limit on it.
• Going out to a dinner on a weeknight at a time later than 5:15 p.m. 
• Chores. I am looking very forward to having time to do dishes, fold laundry, mop the floor and any number of other mundane chores in peace while the kids are sleeping 
• And most of all ... finding time to snuggle up on the couch next to The Hubby and do the USA Today crossword online. We used to always do this. We both enjoyed it, and it's hardly happened at all in the past two years. I can't wait to get back to this - it was always a few minutes of the day I really looked forward to and have missed.

Here's to an upcoming influx of time!

The Countdown

It's been quite awhile since my last post - basically because I got swept up in the holidays (which were great) and prepping for the new little one on the way (which has kept me busy to say the least).

And now, it's crunch time. We're in countdown mode, and I'm positive that I am in denial.

As of about 8 a.m. tomorrow, it will be only one week - seven days - until our second baby girl, Cecilia Ruth, will be here. To be honest, I'm not sure how the heck that's possible.

According to my ever-expanding belly and the frequent "I'm out of room, please get the the heck out of here!" kicks, I'm ready.

According to my heart, I'm so excited to meet my new little chickadee. I spend time every day imagining what she'll look like, what color her eyes and hair will be, how mini she'll seem compared to my now nearly 2-year-old Miss. Olive, and what kind of person she'll be.

My brain, however, refuses to accept the facts. I consider myself a pretty logical person. I think everything out. I pride myself on being prepared.

Though our house is not as ready as I'd like it to be (which is OK because I do still have a week, after all), I know that it's ready enough for a baby to arrive any day. Diapers, co-sleeper, itsy-bitsy clothes ... check, check, check.

I think my lack of acceptance of the  minimal time I have left before the baby arrives is based on the fact that I  don't know exactly what to expect. I mean, I know how to care for a wee one. That's not a concern. But, I don't know what it will be like to take care of two little ones.

It's one of those things that no one can truly explain to you or prepare you for. It's something you just have to trust that you can handle and take moment by moment, making the best decisions you can as time goes by.

Although I know this, I'm having a really hard time accepting it. I'm excited for baby CeCe to be here soon, and I think I'm as ready as I can be. As for everything else, I'm just hoping it falls into place as easily as it did when we welcomed Miss Olive.

Catching Up ...

So, it's been awhile, but here's an update of the last month ...

The Hubby got tickets for the three of us to go to a baseball game as part  of my birthday present. It was Miss Olive's first game. She loved yelling "ball" and the action of the day. It rained (a lot at times) but she proudly wore a garbage bag poncho and her "ball hat," which she got that day and might have been her favorite part overall.

We went to an Oktoberfest with family and friends. Miss Olive posed with one of her cousins, both sporting lovely chicken hats. It was chilly but very fun.

Me, Miss. Olive and the Hubby taking a break from dancing at Oktoberfest.  An annual  event that we love, love, love!

BIG NEWS: We found out the baby on the way will also we a little girl! Miss. Olive is very excited about her little-sister-to-be. We're going name the newbee Cecilia Ruth ... Ruth after The Hubby's great aunt. Olivia calls the baby CeCe, which will be her nickname, and she loves to point to, pat and kiss my belly and tell us about CeCe. Too cute!

Miss Olive and Mommy making bedazzled pumpkins for Olive and baby CeCe.  A craft project that didn't go as well as we planned thanks to less-than-sticky self-adhesive "jewels." We made it work, damnit, because I refused to fail at crafting!

Olivia with said bedazzled pumpkins.

One more just because it was cute.

Miss. Olive at a Halloween party we went to at the local library. Though she appears to be a pirate in this photo, she is not. Just a kiddo enjoying some yummy orange icing.

Ta-dah! Olivia actually sported a garden gnome costume  for Halloween. We took some photos after the library party because the weather was gorgeous.

The gnome and The Hubby. When did she get this big?

Olivia and The Hubby after she helped him carve her pumpkin. By help, I mean she touched the pumpkin gunk twice, said "Eeewwwwwwww," with a crinkled nose and watched him do the rest.

Olivia did help put the fake candle inside. She was all about the fake candle.

Miss. Olive sporting a balloon crown from a Halloween party we went to at a local mall. Her new things is to squint while she says "Cheese" for pictures, just in case the flash is too much. She looks goofy, but it cracks me up.

The pumpkin I carved for Miss. Olive. She loves Minnie Mouse, so we went with it. And, yes, it is photographed on our toilet because we needed somewhere dark to take the picture.

Mommy and Olivia ready to head out for trick-or-treating. Baby CeCe  helped me be a pumpkin.

Olivia diligently searching for something specific in her pumpkin candy basket. This went on for at least three minutes. 

Walking to the next house with The Hubby. Again, Olivia prepped her eyes for the flash.

The loot. Olivia was most impressed by the Hershey Kisses and the Dum Dum Pops. She had a couple Kisses before  zonking out. Overall, she did well, telling everyone "Tic A Tee" and saying "Tank Ew" before quickly turning and yelling "Bye," while jetting off to the next house. She got the hang of this trick-or-treating thing pretty quick. 

So, Today, I'm 28 ...

Today was my birthday. I turned 28.

After waking up this morning to the Ladybug's greeting of "Hop-e Burr-day," I thought a lot today about what's most important to me and -- though there are a great many things I have yet to learn -- about all the things I've learned so far in life.

• *My family is, by far, the most important thing in my life. I've always been close with family and placed a great deal of value on family. But, the older I get, the more important family continues to become to me. I spent all day today with various family members. I'll get to do the same thing Saturday and again next Wednesday - all related to birthday fun. I can't think of anything I'd rather be do.

• I deeply value the strong friendships I have. I think I used to be happy having many, more casual friends. Though the past few years, I have become very fortunate to have developed a small group of close friendships. These friends are no less than extensions of my family, and I as years go by, I continue to be more grateful for their laughter, support, honesty and acceptance. 

• Birthdays become a little less exciting the older you get. There are fewer (or no) balloons, rarely a party with friends, not nearly as many presents, and generally less anticipation. It's another birthday. It will be nice, but then it will be over and things will go on as they were. 

• Birthdays are much more exciting the older you get. There's more excitement in that I care less about the presents and balloons and much more about the value of the day. There's also more excitement in moments like those from tonight: When the Hubby brought in my cake (a red velvet ice cream cake filled with cake batter-flavored ice cream - Mmmmmmm...), Miss Olive was ecstatic! She spent most of the time declaring "Hop-e" (it took too much effort to get out Burr-day every time, too), and she loved that the cake was part of today's "Hop-e." She loved it so much, in fact, that we blew out candles multiple times. I think I'd forgotten until today how much fun birthday candles can be.

I'm very thankful to have been so blessed with a wonderful husband, outstanding daughter, another little one on the way, supportive family, terrific friends, and overall pretty great life.

Hot Diggety Dog

Miss Olive's new favorite word(s) would have to be hot dog.

She has a play grill with a bunch of grill-type food -- hamburgers, corn on the cob, fried chicken -- and her favorite parts by far are the toy hot dogs. In the past few days she's taken to carrying one of them around for chunks of the day, proudly declaring "Hot Dog" as she holds it up to show it to anyone who will listen then takes a big "bite," followed by a drawn out "MMMMmmmmmmmm ... ".

It is, in a word, hilarious.

Yesterday, the Ladybug decided that it would be fun and incredibly silly to dip said plastic hot dog in this Mama's water cup and then "eat" the water off the hot dog - cracking herself up with each and every dip.

She does really, really love to eat actual hot dogs, too. On a bun. No bun. Wrapped in a crescent roll. With cheese. Dipped in ketchup. Whole. Cut into pieces. She's not picky. The girl just loves hot dogs.

As hot dog has become an ever more prominent part of her recent vocabulary, I've started noticing how many things she has decided to be hot dogs ...

Earlier this week we went out to lunch at a Perkins with The Hubby and some of his co-workers. Most people ordered breakfast, and The Hubby's breakfast included sausage links (which Miss Olive has loved since the first time she tasted them).

That day, however, she started pointing to The Hubby's plate and repeating "Hot dog, hot dog, hot dog, hot dog ..." until he gave her a bite and then in between every bite. As with the toy hot dog at home, each bite was followed by a good ol' "MMMmmmm."

Tonight, we went to dinner at Red Lobster. The Hubby ordered a meal that included snowcrab legs, to which The Ladybug again began declaring "Hot dog" over and over.

Apparently anything shaped remotely like a hot dog is now, for sure, nothing other than a hot dog. After explaining it was crab, Miss Olive tried to say crab, tasted it, loved it, and then again reverted to declaring the crab to be hot dog. Oh well.

In addition to noticing all things now labeled hot dog, I've also started realizing that kid shows seem to talk -- or rather, sing -- an awful lot about hot dogs.

Here are just two examples, both of which we've seen in the last couple days ...

1) Mickey Mouse Clubhouse "Hot Dog Dance," which is played at the end of every show:

2) Sesame Street clip of a song about "getting the rhythm of the hot dog" ... sadly I remember watching and dancing to this when I was little:

So, basically, my 15-month-old knows more about and has more of an affinity for hot dogs than most people probably should over a lifetime. Nice.

Oh, People ...

So, as of lunchtime today, it has officially started.

It being the craziness that comes over people - random (weird) strangers - who feel the need to impose themselves and their every thought, opinions and emotion on you simply because you're pregnant and they feel entitled.

Oh how I have missed these freaks of nature. OK - so not really at all. But, they do make for good stories.

So, here, starting with today's encounter, I will share stories of some of my least favorite prego intruders.

The Intruder - The Ladybug and I were out to lunch with my parents, brother and his girlfriend today. While we were browsing the menus, I passed around the most-recent ultrasound images. As my brother passed the pictures my mom's direction, the waitress (who I became increasingly LESS a fan of from this point forward) grabbed them, leaned WAY over the table, started flipping through them, and - in baby talk - declared "Oooooh, what a cute 'wittle' bebe in the belly ... Oh mine are 12 ... this is such a wittle one ..." and so on and so on. Our family sat silent in the awkwardness of the situation. It was weird. Rule #1 - If I don't know you, you don't need to be checking out my ultrasound pics - especially when you snatched the from the hands of my family. You, waitress lady, are nuts.

The Feeler - I worked in an office when I was prego with the Ladybug, and a friend in my office had had a child a few months earlier. While she was pregnant, I observed another co-worker (a lady who on a normal day is very in-your-face) rub, caress and basically fully massage my friend's baby belly on more occasions than I could count. I planned ahead. I prepped my best Karate Kid wax-on, wax-off moves to twart belly-rubbing attempts from her and anyone else making a move. I can excitedly report, I was successful. No one rubbed my baby belly without prior concent, and I liked it that way. Rule #2 - Just because someone is pregnant doesn't mean you can feel them up. If you grab my belly - prego or not - it's highly likely I'm going to grab yours right back.

The Sharer - While prego with the Ladybug, I told my small department that I was pregnant after my first trimester, but I didn't make an broadcast announcement to the entire organization I worked for. Though I was admittedly wearing my looser-fitting tops, I wasn't noticeably showing until about 18-20 weeks. Around my 18th week, a very nosy lady I worked with found out from my manager that I was pregnant. I wasn't ashamed to tell people, or intentionally keeping it a secret, but I had chosen to gradually tell people individually as the right moment came up. She, however, decided she would share my information for me. At totally inappropriate times. In corporate meetings. Though everyone was excited about the news, I was less than enthusiastic about the way they found out. Rule #3 - It's probably a good idea in general not to share any information - good or bad - about someone else's uterus.

The Jerk - Closing in on two years later, the thought of this lady still gets under my skin. At about 8 months pregnant, I was walking down a hallway and heard someone from behind me say, "So, is she pregnant?" I turn and see a lady a barely know, who then - while facing me says, "Oooh, yeah, you ARE pregnant. You're looking pretty puffy." Please note here that she says "puffy" in a slightly disgusted voice, with a crinkled nose, while she draws air circles around her own face with her pointer finger. I look at her with disdain and simply repond with, "Yep - I am pregnant," before walking away. She's lucky she got out alive. Rule #4 - It is always, ALWAYS a very bad idea to critique how a pregnant lady looks. We know we've gained weight. We know we look "huge." We know we look tired. We know we look like we're ready to just have the kid already. We don't need anyone to remind us. Ever.

I ask if you or your friends are committing any of these offenses, please cease and desist. Pregnant women everywhere will be forever thankful.

Oh Morning Sickness, How I HATE You

Dear Morning Sickness -

I know we only have to hang out for a couple months at the beginning of each pregancy, but I have to admit, I'm (no pun intended) sick of you.

You show up whenever you want, always uninvited. You never ask when might be convenient for me ... just so you know, if you did ask, my answer would be "Never!"

You ruin almost my every evening, and today, you have selfishly consumed most of my Saturday - what was before my favorite day of the week. Don't you want a day off? I sure do.

I'm hoping you'll be gone soon, and no offense, but I won't miss you because you're, well, a jerk.

I'm thankful you're a sign that the little one growing quickly in my belly is doing well, but really, I could have done with Post-It saying "Good to Go."

Basically what I'm saying is beat it; hit the road; you're not welcome here; make like a banana and split (eh - banana = gross and ice cream = double gross ... why must you torture me?).

Sincerely Over You,
The Lady You Insist on Pestering with Nausea Day After Day

The Ladybug's Big Announcement

So, I haven't written much lately. Partly because it's summer, and I've been a little busy.

Mostly because I've had something overwhelming my mind that I couldn't get far enough past to write about anything else. And yet, I wasn't ready to write about it yet.

I'll let Miss Olive explain ...

The shirt's a little big, making it a little hard to read, but it says, "This little sweetie is going to be a big sister!"

And there it is. I'm prego once again, and aside form the morning (all-day but who's keeping track) sickness, clumsiness and what I feel is premature baby-brain, things are going great. I'll be 12 weeks this weekend.

Things were rocky at first - I had to take some Progesterone pills to help make the babe's living environment more sustainable, but they seemed to do the trick and the wee one is growing as scheduled.

Miss Olive will be about 20 months when the new addition arrives in February.

Big questions we've had from friends and family so far:

1) How are you feeling? I was sick, then I was great, now I'm sick again. I pretty much feel like I can stomach potatoes, honey or dry roasted peanuts and warm pretzels ... occasionally others things make the list when I get a yearning, but they've been few and far between for the past week. The Hubby has been a saint so far. The other night, after being sick to my stomach for hours, I was finally STARVING - like, I could eat someone's arm if it appealed to me type of starving. But, nothing in our house seemed at all appealing. It all grossed me out beyond belief. The Hubby offered to go to the grocery and grab a container of open and heat mashed potatoes and some dry roasted peanuts. It was nearly 11:30 p.m. when he left the house. Did I mention he's being pretty amazing?

2) Are you going to find out what it is? Well, yes. We're hoping it's a baby. Nuf said.

3) Are you hoping for a boy or a girl? We are honestly indifferent. OK - so the Hubby probably wouldn't mind a boy, but he'd be just as happy with either. The logical side of me says we have a LOT of girl clothes, and it would be nice to get more use out of them, but that's not a good enough reason for me to have a deep desire for a girl. I think either or would be exciting. The Chinese birth calendar says it's going to be a girl. Take that for what you will.

4) What does Olivia think of it? She's clueless. She's a little bit little to grasp the concept of a person living in my belly yet. We've flown the idea out there a few times, but I think she thinks we're telling her crazy nonsense because she quickly ignores it and moves on to something - anything - more important. That said, about five weeks ago, she took a strong interest in playing with/mothering her baby dolls all of the sudden. She carries them like real babies, craddled in her arms. She feeds them bottles. She shushes people if the babies are sleeping. She plops them down on pillows and covers them with blankets so they can nap. It's adorable. Though she doesn't know it yet, I'm pretty positive the Ladybug will be thrilled by and amped up to help care for our new addition.

Yay for a new baby on the way, and yay for finally being about to share our great news with the world. Can't wait to share more and get some great mama feedback as the pregnancy goes on.

Miss Independence

Oh, my little independent 14-month-old girl.

As I've mentioned once or twice, I've always been proud of Miss Olive's determination, focus and enthusiasm for learning anything and everything. She's very loving and caring but also very independent.

And, the older she gets, the more she has decided to assert that independence.

The last couple weekends have been rough, with a hot-headed Ladybug wanting nothing other than to do things herself, her way.

This independence is both positive and negative. It's great in that she's all about feeding herself, listens closely to every word anyone says to try to communicate, and has little fear to try anything once. It's difficult mostly because some of the things she wants to try are things she shouldn't do - because they'll hurt her - or won't end well - because her was isn't necessarily the right way.

For example, she recently wanted to eat a banana peal. Please picture my child demanding nothing other than to eat the banana peal. When I calmly explained a few times that the inside for the banana was for eating and the outside peal was yucky, she quickly and fiercely took a piece of banana from her try and flung it at this lady. I was not so pleased. That was the end of the bananas for breakfast that day. (Don't worry, she had already eaten most of it and only had a few bites left when we left the table.)

After that, there was a 10 to 15 minute crying/sobbing episode during which she babbled on to me, seeming to declare her list of reasons why I should have just given her the peal and asking how I could be so cruel.

The next day, the Ladybug wanted to drink from the straw in her juice box while tipping the box upside down. Why? Because that's how she decided she wanted to drink it that day. Every other day, she drinks the right way. That day, not so much.

Then, there was the corn-on-the-cob incident. Miss Olive wanted to eat her corn by herself, like a big girl, like her nearly 3-year-old cousin.

We split the cob in half, and when she had mostly finished the first half, I offered to trade her for the second half. She wasn't having it. She opted for this ...

"Why are you taking MY picture?"

"I told you I could do it."

Honestly, the corn was so funny, I've cracked up a great many times the past couple days just thinking about it. She only let go of the ears of corn when she heard there was the prospect of coloring with crayons in her future.

I guess - even with the frustration it causes me from time to time - I'm definitely thankful for the assertiveness and dedication that my little one has. They are qualities of her personality that I hope she doesn't lose as she grows up. I hope they will help turn her into a leader, someone who isn't afraid to speak her mind, someone who isn't afraid to take a few risks here and there in an effort to achieve whatever she's put her mind to.