Mommy Time Out

Escaping when J is gone is tough. I can't run to the bookstore for a break, I can't throw on my running shoes and head out on my own. It's just me and B. There isn't anyone who can give me a break when the nanny goes home for the day. Last night, I was ready to pull my own hair out. I had just dealt with the A/C disaster (total replacement has to be done, by the way, awesome) and I was trying to decompress and B was hell bent on pulling a speaker down on his head.

Now I don't know if this is a boy thing or a baby thing or a B thing...but, my boy loves cords. There is nothing more joyful is his life than pulling on, chewing on, or sucking an electrical cord. He hunts them out with precision and once he finds one, there is no way to make him forget where that cord had been found. So last night as I was trying to take a short break between A/C repairmen and getting dinner ready, B found the speaker cord for the surround sound speaker on top of the entertainment center. He pulled and chewed and it was only a matter of time before it came down on his head. So, I told him no, moved him away, and sat down again. He went back and back and back. I pulled him away from there at least 5 times. Finally, I lost my temper and plunked him down a little harder than previously. Then the water works started.

Crying upon receiving reprimand is a rather new (and frustrating!) development. I do my best to ignore it because I know that it is for a reaction. There are times when he is really upset and I respond, but there are also times where these responses are just plain pitiful and whiny. So, needless to say, these crocodile tears only made me further frustrated. It was at this point where I needed a mommy time out, but it couldn't be done. I could have put him in his crib for a brief moment, but that would have only lead to a greater scale melt down. I took a deep breath and gathered my best mommy talents and removed the boy from the cords once again and headed to the kitchen for dinner.

I know that there are single moms that do this everyday and I shouldn't complain, I just have to survive it for periods of time, but still, I need a break! I never thought about getting a babysitter while J was gone, but I think I might just have to.

Man Work...but no man to do it

Our A/C leaks. Bad. Like, mega bad. There is a giant water stain on our ceiling that appeared over night. I have the A/C people coming today to take a look at it. It is hotter that Hades at our house here in VA and it's going to get much worse before it gets better. It has to be fixed soon as we have a house full of people coming to visit us next week for B's baptism and 1st birthday. Here's the problem, I have no idea what they are going to tell me and having no technical knowledge, I fear that I am going to get taken for a ride. Now, don't get me wrong, J is about the least technical person you will ever meet. I actually may know more than him, but dudes just have more street cred in these situations.

Being on my own isn't tough, it's just annoying sometimes. Like when light bulbs burn out, or the lawn needs to be mowed, or when the A/C breaks. These are man jobs. They are jobs that I have no desire to be involved in. Now, before I get all the ladies in an uproar, I know that women can handle any task and, believe me, as a female Naval Officer, I get that. But, I personally just don't want to deal with it. I am sure there are many marriages where the ladies are the subject matter experts and handle these matter. This just isn't something that I like to involve myself in. I would prefer to never think about these things. I like that my hubs handles these things.

But, broken A/C's wait for no man, so I got on the internet, read some reviews and have someone coming out to the house today to check things out. I emailed my main man, but in typically Navy fashion it appears the internet isn't working on the ship so I have no idea of his opinion. I'm sure that it'll be fine, the A/C will be fixed (at great cost I'm sure) and all will be well.

On the Go

Well, it's been a hot minute since I last posted. I spent the last week up in Newport, RI attending a war game (not quite as cool as it sounds). This was the first time that we left B with someone other than a parent as J was and continues to be underway. We left B in the capable hands of my parents, who spoiled him completely rotten. All his schedule was thrown out and he just had a ball. I was a bit nervous before I left him (his is my only baby after all), but I shouldn't have been. They loved him so much. He was well taken care of and my dad almost won't let me take him back with me. They are already asking about the next time that they can watch him.

Unfortunately, while I was away, my Grandma passed away and my parents had to take B to TN where I would meet them for the memorial service. This meant a complete change in plans for me and I had to do some serious flight adjustments. I made it in time for a lovely service for a lovely lady. Then B and I flew back late last night and I headed into work this morning.

Needless to say, I need a break, but there doesn't seem to be one coming anytime soon. In two weeks, my son will be baptized onboard his daddy's ship (really a pretty awesome ceremony) so everyone will be coming to visit us. We will also be celebrating his first birthday that weekend, which I really can't believe. So, there is a lot to get done and of course, J won't be home until a day or two before so he will be no help.

I have much more to say later, but I wanted to get something jotted down before B wakes up from his nap and who knows how long it will be until I get a chance to sit down again!

Morning Naps

Continuing my poor me post from yesterday, I want to say that I miss the morning nap. B gave this joyous event up just a few weeks ago and I have looked back longingly ever since. Now, I didn't really notice it on the week days, but this weekend when I was on my own, I MISSED IT! God bless the nanny for making it this far without it.

I realized how many things I crammed into the time. Showers, laundry, cleaning...it was a wonderful time when I could recover from the morning destruction. My son has become a tornado, ripping his way from one area to another. Meal time can be described as nothing other than a disaster. It includes dog feedings, food throwing and general smearing. Play time tends to consist of throwing toys, ripping paper, and general devastation. Needless to say, the few moments in the morning I had to clean were precious. I could turn the tide in the house back in my favor. No more.

This weekend I was on the run for 8 solid hours behind my boy. From 6 am to 2 pm. Pick up, take away, redirect, repeat. He never slowed down. It was unbelievable. Graciously, this no morning nap has led to an extra long afternoon nap, usually about 2 hours. But, by the time this nap hit, I needed one. The last thing I wanted to do was clean up. However, I mustered all my energy and I cleaned. I cleaned because I knew there was no way it would get done later in the day after the dinner time fiasco that always occurs (think dogs, cats, and babies conspiring to drive me insane).

There are times when I am running behind this child wondering how something so tiny could defeat me. Nothing defeats me. I am an officer in the world's most powerful navy. I have driven a warship, shot missiles, and done a million other things that are awesome. And then this little 20 odd pound crawling monster can exhaust me in a way that none of these other things have. I will certainly be interesting to see what happens when he starts walking (which I feel we are on the verge of any day).

Hulk SMASH!

Let me begin this post with this...I love my husband and my son. Dearly. More than anything in the world. They are the two most important people in the world to me.

That said, this weekend, I was ready to throw both of them out of my house. More accurately, I was ready to pack my bags and leave, just leave. There was a moment on Sunday where I could have exploded. I was so frustrated, so angry, and so spent that I just couldn't take it anymore.

It wasn't really anything that they did. Sure, B could have not sucked on my Ipod cord and broken it. Sure, J could have returned from duty earlier than he did. But, I can't really pinpoint any one thing that pushed me over the edge. It was just everything. The overwhelming amount of cleaning, the sheer exhaustation from a busy week and busier weekend, the bad news about my grandmother. It finally boiled over. And I yelled and fumed and cussed and insulted and did all those ugly things that you don't want to admit to.

My husband isn't the most empathetic man, so this proceeded into an argument about who works harder and who parents more and really nothing was accomplished other than we were now both mad and the dogs were cowering in their cage. B just watched from his high chair.

I felt terrible afterwards. I know how hard J works and how much he wishes he could be home more. I don't want my son to see me like this. I don't want him to think that acting in this manner is the best way to resolve these issues. But sometimes, I just can't help it.

I know that this could have easily been prevented if I had taken a moment to get out of the house on my own. A quick trip to the bookstore or an outdoor run would have cleared out some of this frustration. But, I feel so guilty that I don't see B enough that I feel I need to be with him when I am home. I know another solution to this problem is that J and I need to adjust to our new roles. I have done things on my own before, for the first few months it was just me and B. I just have to accept my lot in life for now. I know that tougher times are ahead, so little adjustments now will pay big dividends when J is gone for those long 8 months. Finally, I know that not everything will get cleaned every weekend. When it's just us, I have to make trade offs.

Now, it's easy to say all of these things, but the real test will be in a couple of weeks when all these feelings start bubbling up again.

Spitting (Dinner) Time

So, the boy has started doing something new at meal time...spitting everything that comes on a spoon out. Anything that went in his mouth last night at dinner came right back out atleast once. When he was hand feeding himself corn and bananas (a strange combination, I know), no problems, went down without a fight. But, when I started spooing his dinner in his mouth, no dice.

I honestly don't understand it. I know that it is something that he likes. When I put it back in his mouth a second time, he would eat with no problems. I know that it wasn't too hot or too cold. I ate some myself to make sure. It tasted fine and he had eaten it before. He was just bound and determined not to eat it the first time it went in.

It was super annoying, not only for the wasted food, but also the significant amount of food that got spit out on me. My glasses were covered, my clothes were spattered, it was gross. Now, I admit that usually when I come home from work, I throw on some crummy tee shirt and sweat rather than putting on real clothes. But, yesterday, I actually put on nice clothes because we went out to the library and the park. I was hoping that they wouldn't get too dirty. WRONG.

I know that this is the age where stubborness starts and where food pickiness starts and where the appetite goes down. Fine. Just turn your head away or don't open your mouth. I'll take that, but this Gallagher show (way back reference) I am getting treated to is just no fun.

That Old Familiar Longing

So, after the third pregnancy announcement in a little less than a week, I find myself with the same old gnawing feeling...when is it going to happen for us. J and I have been "trying" (really not trying) since December. I know these things take time and my hormones are still recovering from nursing, but I can still feel that little monster inside me wondering what is taking so long.

I freely admit I am not a patient person. When I make up my mind about something, I want it now. Like yesterday now. I don't like the feeling of waiting or not being in control of my own destiny. We decided that we wanted to have two children before my three years of sea time (a no baby zone) and two afterwards. We have a pretty tight timeline. I have less than two years before I head back to sea. I also have only a couple of months before J heads out on the ocean for 8 months, so I kind of have to get it in now or wait for a whole year.

Last time we tried, it took 8 months. We had started fertility testing and where half way through an international adoption (I told you, I'm not patient). J was tested, but I wasn't. The doctor's appointment scheduled for me was 4 days after we had a positive test, so we may have no problems or we may have gotten lucky. That feeling of not knowing is unsettling.

I really don't want this time to be like last time. I don't want to pee on a million sticks, track my temperature, in general, I don't want to become obsessed. J was very patient and understanding, but I could tell that I was beginning to grate on his nerves. Heck, I was even annoying myself. At times, though, I feel like I can't help myself. As an accomplishment driven person, every single month we don't get pregnant feels like a failure. J just doesn't understand how crushing it is to me. I am trying very hard to keep all of my crazy to myself, but I feel like as time goes on, it is becoming more challenging not to buy the ovulation tests.

I don't want to sound like I don't appreciate my son. I love, love, love B. J sees my desire as a sign that B isn't enough, which he is. If he is all that we ever have, that would be okay. He's a great kid. But, I grew up as the oldest of four children. Our family just doesn't feel complete as three. Who is B going to play hot lava with, who is he going to share his secrets with, heck, who is he going to get into fights with. I look back on my childhood and fondly remember my time with my siblings. I love the memories I have of the four of us playing together. I still look forward to spending time with them. I don't want my son to miss that. J is an only and he just doesn't get it.

Needless to say, I feel like I am under the gun. There is a timeline that I am up against and I don't like that I can't drive the bus. Grrr...

Happy Easter!

We are celebrating Easter a day early this year since J has duty tomorrow. We have kept it pretty low key and my parents came up. We dyed some eggs, made some cupcakes, (BTW B loves icing), and may have an Easter egg hunt tomorrow. I think it will mostly consist of a couple of eggs being laid out for him to shake.

This weekend has brought up some parenting questions for me. We are religious adn this is a pretty important time of year. We regularly attend church and do read Bible stories to him every Sunday. But, I still wonder how we encourage his religious beliefs, but don't make it too overt. I remember going to church and youth group and my personal beliefs grew from that. They were never pushy, they never forced me and I came out fine. However, several of my siblings are not. There wasn't any difference in their manner, we just ended up drastically different.

I would like to take a similar approach with B. J did not grow up religious at all and has only been attending since we met. He wants to bring him up with beliefs, but he has no idea where to start. Unfortunately, with all things parenting, it appears we will just have to roll with the punches on this.