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.

Dealing with the Boy Bits

Being a mother to a boy has already proven more challenging than I expected. Last week, we had an, ahem, weiner problem. I won't go into the gory details, but it ended up with a frantic evening visit to the doctor's office and a even later pick up at the drugstore. I have always said to my husband that since I don't have the parts, I can't be counted on to know that much about it, so it's his deal. I honestly expect him to do the potty training because he is the subject matter expert. Well, he was underway, and the boy had problems, I had to act. Turns out it wasn't a big deal and even though we got a perscription, it was really only for B's comfort and quicker recovery than a real issue.

As the doctor explained that these things are very common and "there's just a lot of skin down there," I was thinking to myself, what is this kid going to do when he is older and I don't necessarily see these issues. I sure wasn't going to tell my dad and problems I was having in that region. I mean, it's not like my husband won't be around at all, but still when the weiner crisis hits and he is underway, what am I going to do with a 12 year old boy who has no interest in his mom knowing about it.

Not only is he going to be embarrassed, but so am I. I could barely keep myself from giggling as I was explaining the specifics of the problem to the after hours nurse. I just couldn't help it, I was listening to myself talk about it so clinically that I found it hilarious every time I said the "p" word. Real grown up, I know. Needless to say, both of us will be a mess when this problem hits later in life. I know that I am just going to have to be up front with him as he is growing so that he does feel comfortable coming to me when his dad isn't around. I also know that I need to make sure I act in a mature manner when these issues arise. But, I still can't help but giggle when I look back on it and I still get red in the face when I explain it to my husband.

Outdoor Time

J and I aren't outdoor people. Sure we'll hike around a national park and run outside, but we aren't the type of people to just hang out outside. We would much rather be in the heat/air conditioned comfort of our own home. I realized this might not be a great habit to pass on to our child. I sat down and thought about the last time the child had spent any significant time outdoors. I really had to rack my brain. There are just so many wonderful things to do inside, we just never think to go outside.

So, I took him out on the back deck today, I felt like he needed it. The child loved it! He was crawling around like it was going out of style. He enjoyed picking up leaves and feeling the different textures of wood on the deck. I was really suprised at how much he seemed to enjoy it. I will be sure to add in some outdoor time to his day.

The other beings that really seemed to enjoy the outside time with the baby were the dogs. I mean, I know the dogs like to spend time with B. They tend to hang out in the same room with him anyway, but they were just so happy when B was out there. It was like they were introducing their own world to him. They keep coming up and checking him. I am really looking forward to when they can really play together. Well, it's time to make dinner, I think we might just eat on the back deck.

Single Mom at 10 months

This week I rocked it as a single mom (maybe not rocked it, but survived it). J was underway and I did it, but, boy, was it different than doing it when he was a little baby. In some ways easier and some ways harder. Easier in that I got more sleep. I am grateful that I have a good night sleeper but even more so this week when I had to get up at 0345 3 days in a row for work (BOO on that by the way). Harder in that the boy is mobile. I couldn't even go the bathroom without having to worry where he was and what he was into. I admit I got a bit frustrated with this tonight. He kept ripping toliet paper and hanging on me and all I wanted to was go to bathroom for 2 minutes!

I know that this is what we are in for for the next couple of years and soon enough the tables will be turned and J will be in the single dad for his fair share of time. There were times where I honestly loved being here by myself. We had special cuddle time and we shared some special moments. However, there were quite a few times where I could have used a relief. Now that B is cruising, he bonks himself a lot, like really a lot, like I am worried about brain damage a lot. Needless to say this all ends in many tears and I told you so's. It's exhausting.

Plus, you never realize how much work the old man does until he was gone. Trash, pet care, car care. There were a lot more things that I had to take care of this week. I have never liked it when J is gone, but now with B on the move and so much more to handle, I like it even less. Oh well, it's the Navy, what can you do? I know one thing, I'll be spending some quality alone time on Saturday!