sweet stranger

today has been one of those days. the kind of day where i flipped off the flashing speed limit sign that alerted me to my 4 mile over the speed limit infraction.  dont judge.

this juvenile middle finger outburst was precipitated by a crazy morning of a crying baby serenade while trying to get the little people out the door. on the upside, i now have a few additions to my blog series, 'sidwbf' otherwise known as the 'shit i do while breast feeding'. trust me, i plan on nominating myself for some kind of shiny medal that has been wrapped around a shiny bottle of cabernet for the things i find myself doing all while keeping ace quiet, happy and fed. today, i put socks, shoes and a coat on jw while nursing and fixed gks hair. it wasnt pretty, it wasnt graceful, but it was all done in peace and blessed quiet.

i proceeded to spill my morning cup of joy all over myself rushing to the car and managed to put on my makeup in its entirety before realizing i had forgotten THE holy grail of makeup until i was done...under eye concealer...otherwise known as magic make up crack for sleep deprived eyes. if i was on a deserted island and could only have three things, im only sure one of them would be concealer, less i get rescued without it.  anyway, it was the kind of morning i wished i could do over. in slow motion and silence. once the big little people were at school, the screaming one and i headed to target. it was on our way, with coffee still pooling in my lap and baby still serenading me from the back seat that the flashing rules police got the bird.

at target i unloaded all 300 square feet and 40 lbs of gear that new moms travel with into the cart and realized the future opera singer was asleep.  thank you, Jesus.  i began to imagine how blissful and relaxing it would be to peruse aisle after aisle of crap i didnt need in sweet holy silence.

while momentarily lost in brief happy thoughts, i failed to notice the sweet sweet 85 year old lady checking out my sleeping baby, who was completely covered, in his carseat. she looked at me and saw a relaxed and happy mama, a far cry from the crazy foul gesturing mess from a moment ago and simply asked to see him. i hesitated, wondering if it was worth the risk of him waking up and i briefly considered lying and saying there wasnt any baby in the car seat, but alas i caved and lifted the flap letting all the glorious fluorescent lights of the store cover him. she smiled the kindest smile and whispered to enjoy every minute before walking slowly away with short shuffling steps.

enjoy every minute?? where was she an hour ago when i was a lactating, dark eyed, ear drums bursting mess?  i stood there for a moment and looked over at ace who was now wide awake. there was my sweet, fat, healthy baby with the bluest eyes squinting under the lights of the store and i realized in that instant, this kind woman, a total stranger reminded me to experience what i had allowed the hectic pace of my morning to rob me of. pure joy. pure gratitude. pure happiness. i have a baby. a sweet precious and healthy baby with fully developed lungs that allow him to scream healthy cries whenever he feels like it.

can i possibly enjoy every minute of every day?  nope.  i cant.  and there was the sarcastic sliver of me that wanted to chase her down when he started crying in aisle 9 just to see if she was enjoying 'every minute', but i didnt.  instead, i realized that while i dont have that drug or gene in me that allows me to exist in a permanent state of bliss, i can tread water between the waves of embracing the crazy and enduring the chaos with the constant undercurrent of love and gratitude.  that i can do.  thanks little lady.  thanks.

s.i.d.w.b.f. #1

i wish there was some uber catchy acronym for the shit i do while breast feeding. being a military wife has me completely conditioned to the need for needless acronyms. i cant help it, as much as i want to laugh at the absolute absurdity of some of the acronyms i hear on a daily basis, i have a touch of acronym envy, otherwise known as a.e. at the fact i cant come up with a clever one for the shit i do while breast feeding. one of my fave nonsensical military acronyms is tdy. it means temporary duty. im not sure why they add the 'y', but ive always thought of it as meaning 'yobyyoself' awhile. either way, i do loads of shit while nursing ace and while i would love to say 'shit' less, it is altogether fitting for this first installment of the s.i.d.w.b.f.

i was chatting with another newcomer to the 'club of three' the other day and we established we are in the midst of challenging moments more so than challenging days. the craziness comes in waves with massive undercurrents that leave me feeling like im gasping for air and being drug through razor sharp sand all the while hearing a constant litany of requests/demands by small people with big voices who incidentally have very little understanding of patience. in their defense, some of their needs are urgent and making them wait, even while im meeting the urgent needs of another, could have dire consequences for me. and really, i dont need anymore of those in my day.

the other day, after dropping gk off at her work release program (aka kindergarten), jw and i were serenaded all the way home by one screaming, hungry baby ace. i really think he is the loudest of all three of our people which is rather impressive if youve ever heard jack, the 3 year old with the voice of a 4o year old trucker, chatting up a room. lets just say his voice carries. anyway, we flew into the garage and ran out of the car like it was on fire in a rush to get inside and stop the screaming baby. as soon as we were inside, i started feeding ace and enjoying the quiet. 42 seconds later j informed me he needed to poop. great. i couldnt quit feeding ace this early into his breakfast or he and i would have both had a morning milk bath (tmi??) so i just walked with the baby and used my one free arm to hoist 38 lbs of j onto the potty all the while wondering where in the house he and his sister had left the stool that would have made this little joyful job unnecessary.

with j where he needed to be, i went back to the couch to continue feeding the baby who was somehow unfazed and oblivious to the constant movement. i swear it wasnt even 30 seconds later when j yelled he needed his bottom wiped. really. this is a task he usually handles on his own, but this morning, because the stars had all lined up just perfectly, there was apparently loads of shit everywhere and he really really really needed me. where is the awesome button? the one i get to press every time something awesome happens and at the end of the day it tallies the awesomeness and pours my glass of wine accordingly?

so, once again i trekked into the bathroom which now smelled comparable to a carnival porta potty (his voice isnt the only resemblance he has to a 40 year old trucker) and began the joyful job of wiping his rear while STILL breast feeding the baby. this is where i will spare you the majority of details except to let you know j wasnt exaggerating. he really did need me and i felt like i deserved a standing ovation, medal and shower when i emerged from the bathroom.

i didnt get any of those things, but i did get a cup of coffee and the satisfaction of knowing im capable of doing more than i originally thought to balance this blessed life with three. and at the end of the day, regardless of the 'awesome' moments tally, i would seriously not t.t.l.f.a. or trade this life for anything.

dilemma

so i know ive been incredibly lame with posting and the truth is ive simply adjusted my expectations of myself and now that i expect to never post, im feeling much much less like a failure. this is mostly for me and about me so im trying super hard to not feel guilty about dropping the blog ball. i actually do write randomly and then decide not to post it for fear of being a little too over exposed...ie, when i go off on a tangent about a 'hypothetical' situation that isnt so 'hypothetical' and even the biggest moron with an iq of a stoned sheep could connect the dots and realize in an instant i was in fact referring to an incident involving them...so, i vent, feel better and another month slips with nothing im able to share, with you that is. however, yesterday was so super fun and i just feel like its worth mentioning.

so im about a week out from having our third baby. crazy. on many many levels. the thing with me and pregnancy is i am wholly consumed with gratitude and wholly consumed with misery...i would not have believed the two could possibly coexist if i wasnt currently hanging out with both of them. in fact, i think, i may have even tried to give someone the solution to their supposed 'misery' years ago (prior to my preggo days) as trying to simply maintain a level of gratitude that doesnt allow for any misery...i was SO incredibly wise at 22. but, here i am on round three of baby growing and i couldnt be anymore thankful to have this sweet bundle of goodness coming our way in a week and couldnt be anymore ready to stop puking and feeling like total shiat most of the time.

my first two rounds in preggieville had me poppin the zofran (anti naseau tabs) for all 40 weeks and puking most days to include the morning of both inductions. this baby, who briefly achieved fcs (favored child status) gave me a much needed, much welcomed surprise when at 20 weeks, i all but quit throwing up! of course there was the occasional out of nowhere puke, but by and large, i was feeling pretty flippin okay. but then came the eye infection and return of the puke that landed me in the er and caused bleeding out my lower lid every time i threw up...i was incredibly hot, im just sayin. this was followed by this weeks first ever adult ear infection/sinus infection combo that had me crying like a three year old while holding my ear...wish i was kidding. good times.

the great news is there is an antibiotic i am taking for said sinus/ear infection...it just causes vomiting. fan freakin tab u lous. which brings me to yesterday....

yesterday i was finally feeling good enough to venture out and with baby arriving and my time of not lugging newborn with me everywhere i go running short, i headed out for some retail therapy. mainly, the makings for sugar cookies and some butt paste for baby, but whatevs, i was alone and on a mission. and hungry. i vaguely remembered someone sharing with me that mexican food causes labor and while im highly doubtful of any and all tidbits of knowledge that dont make sense, i figured it was worth a try, it sounded good and since i am totally unwilling to try any of the other helpful 'hints' that supposedly bring it on, mexican food it was. within minutes i found myself eating a chicken burrito from qdoba in my car. and within a few minutes of that i found myself over the top grateful for the plastic to go bag it came in to throw it all right back up. awesome.

and then the real dilemma began. what do you do with a large bag of vomit? i mean really. what do you do? all of the dumpsters in this incredibly busy shopping center were all prettified with gates and fences and i assume hard to figure out latches. and i couldnt very well walk into the qdoba and drop it in a trash can. i began driving around omaha feeling like i had a dead body in the car. seriously. if it were donated items, id look for a drop box. a dvd, just any old redbox would do. even with a baby for the love of pete, id know to drive to a church or fire station, but a bag of warm puke?? i had no ideas but the more i drove the more disgusted i became at the whole thing and the more i started thinking of how good my story would be if i happen to get pulled over for erratic driving...'im sorry officer, i was just looking for a perfect place to dispose of this...'

truth is, im sick of being sick and now there wasnt even a convenient place to be sick. i pulled into what i thought the best option would be...a large trashcan outside a christian book store. i hastily dropped it in, hoped for a little grace and mercy (surely they have a surplus there, right? right??) and drove away feeling like i had just robbed a bank and tossed the gun and evidence. im sure ill head back there at some point and buy something to help ease the guilt and clear my conscience of the 'treasure' i left in their trash, but for now, im going to avoid going anywhere near there and not just because it prolly stinks.

so im counting down the days for this preggie puking chapter to be behind me, all the while watching my belly dance and trying to savor every last bump, flip and roll this precious little one does because at the end of the day, the misery is totally worth being this close to a miracle...