Turning Two

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You would think after having two years experience (that’s 730 days) of watching my child grow and develop, I would have come to terms with him inevitably getting older. I have not.  I have made strides in the right direction (acceptance), but my heart still aches a bit with each inch and milestone he conquers.

O’s second birthday is approaching, and if I let myself breathe that all in, it could seriously knock the wind out of me.  My husband has been asking me what’s wrong with me lately.  He can tell something is “off.”  I keep saying it’s my stomach.  I just don’t feel right. Well, when something is bothering me, that’s where the stress goes.  Right to my gut.  I’ve not been purposely lying to him.  I actually didn’t realize the correlation until I started writing this post.  But that’s what’s “got” me.  My baby is growing up and there is no way to stop the clock.

That’s not to say that I want to actually stop the clock.  Of course not.  I want to see him grow and thrive and become the man he is meant to be.  It’s just the pangs of loss that hit me occasionally.  Sometimes gently and sometimes like a smack across the face.  Like now, as this 2 year marker approaches.  I understand how precious this whole process is.  The act of raising, caring for, and unconditionally loving this being that was created with such love.  It is awesome and truly the best thing I have ever done in my life. And it’s all flying by so quickly.  I believe this is one of the big reasons why people have more children.  The feeling is so wonderful, at times, euphoric.  Of course you want to  make it last.  So you have another.  And maybe another.  Unless you can’t.  Unless it maybe just isn’t in the cards.

Ah, and there it is.  The crux of the matter.  I didn’t really think about O’s birthday coinciding with the end of our “have another baby” project.  But the months have passed and with each one came a reminder that I’m not going to have another child.  I promised I wouldn’t be upset.  I promised.  But as I sit here wiping away my tears, I’m finding my promise is proving to be empty, however well intentioned.  I won’t let myself spiral into a dark place over it, however.  I have far far too much to be thankful for to let that happen.  But I think my not allowing sadness over it was a mistake.  That’s a ridiculous notion, really.   Not allowing sadness?  It’s just silly.  As if my heart has a choice.  Ha.

So I’ll go on, filling my my mind and days with work and projects.  I’ll spin more plates than usual, no doubt.  But I will be aware of my particular sadness and honor it.  And I suppose, if I need to cry, well then, I’ll cry.  At least I won’t be denying my feelings.  If you read my blog, you know that I believe everything happens the way it is supposed to.  And I don’t believe in regrets.  I believe in lessons.  But this advanced maternal age mommy wishes perhaps she didn’t wait quite so long to have a child.  Maybe there would have been time for another?   A tough lesson to swallow in hindsight.  But then, perhaps another child was never in the cards.  You can really think it to death.  Who really has time for that?

So as my little O gets ready to turn two, we will celebrate his time so far on this earth and the immense  joy he brings us….with a Sesame Street theme, no less.  We are having a combined birthday with his second cousin, Nora, who was born two days after him.  Lots of Elmo and Abby Caddaby!  Alphabet cookies, crayons and Cookie Monster fudge!  I’ll take lots of pics for a fun party blog.  And I won’t forget for a moment all that I have.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight, and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Thanks for reading. Xo

It Is What It Is

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Well, I don’t know about you, but this holiday weekend has left me completely wiped out.  We hosted Thanksgiving dinner for 10 people and a dog, had my parents visiting with us all week, and had our bathroom remodel project commence.  Well, just about.  There are a few things the contractors still need to attend to.  Getting them back here is going to be a headache for sure.  Ugh.  I am digressing, as usual.  Suffice it to say, I’d like to take a long long bath in our new tub.  That’s a great idea.

Of course, all the happenings I just listed were all fraught with bumps and hiccups.  Isn’t everything? I kept the phrase, “It is what it is,” going around in my head like a mantra.  Cause it’s just the truth.  Nothing turns out like you wish it to.  You can plan your Thanksgiving dinner for 4pm, but, if you are us, it’s more like 6pm.  You can try your hardest to please people, but, if you are me, you usually wind up disappointed at the response.  And you can expect a certain level of workmanship from a craftsman, but if you are a perfectionist like me, their work most likely will come up short.  I sound like I’m whining.  I’m really not.  It’s just an exhausted response…but in my heart of hearts I know it is what it is.

The same goes for our project sibling.  No success with conception to date.   While the “trying” is fun, it’s also exhausting.  After two months of no bun in the oven, I am getting the feeling that it may just not happen.  I promised myself I would be ok with it.  But, of course, I feel the pang of disappointment, even if I am keeping it in check.  I think it’s harder to see the look of disappointment on my husband’s face.  It’s was so easy last time, I think he thought it would happen just as quickly the second time around.  But I know that my body is 2 years older than the last time.  I can feel the difference in my body, though no one might be able to see it.  Do any of you gals in your 40’s or higher know what I’m talking about? It’s so strange.  It’s like aging starts to accelerate from within.  It’s totally weird.  So I truly leave it up to God and the Universe.  It is what it is.  And it will be what it will be.

I find the lack of my ability to control the outcome oddly comforting.  I’m glad it’s not up to me.  I get to sit back and wait and see what happens.  I get to have Faith.  I get to Trust in something greater than myself.  I get to say, “It is what it is” and mean it.  And I am reminded everyday that I am not pregnant, I am so so lucky to have the beautiful child I do have.

Until next time, enjoy your left overs and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is messing it up.  I’m going to soak in a hot tub with a glass of Pinot Noir.  Thanks so much for reading xo.

 

Project Sibling

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The Universe has conspired to make me sit down and write.  It is O’s nap time.  The hinges I bought off of Amazon for the bathroom cabinets don’t fit properly….so there will be no replacing them instead of writing.  I was going to start to paint the walls of the master bath, but I now have to clean and paint the baseboard heating covers and don’t have the right high heat paint to tackle the task.  I can’t  just leave my sleeping angel in the house while I run to Lowes….so I’ll have to go later. Perfect window of time to write.  The fact is that I am faced with a blog that is due tomorrow, but I’d rather eat potato chips.  Or bacon cheese flavored popcorn.  Any yummy tasty savory item from the Trader Joes snack aisle will do.  I want to mindlessly crunch away like a teenager.  I find it a satisfying way to avoid the task at hand.  Maybe one more handful before I decide whether to spill or zip it.

Alas, I am writing the piece.  After two bowls of crunchy goodness (boy, that’s an oxymoron), I am hitting the keys.  I am tentative about sharing this week’s tidbit.  Part of me feels like if I share it that I am somehow accountable if things don’t work out.  But a bigger part of me knows that there are women just like me who are contemplating  the same thing.  Ok, ok, enough with the lead in…I’m talking about having another baby.  Everyone has there own opinion on the subject.  A lot of women my age are done after having one.  Why push it, right? I see their point.

It takes me back to when I was 39 weeks pregnant with O and I had an exam with an older male doctor I had never been seen by before.  This practice in Florida was odd.  You could request a specific Doctor for appointments, but when you actually went into labor, you got whoever was on call.  So they urged you to familiarize yourself with as many physicians in the practice as possible.  And there were a lot.  Oye! I digress.  Anyway, on this particular day I opted to see Dr. Collins a.k.a. Crabby Pants.  I remember him telling me while discussing the labor,”Well, at your age, you don’t want to mess this up….I mean, it’s one and done for you.”  I remember feeling like I was slapped in the face.  I told another physician what he had said and she just shook her head.  Tossed it up to him being ready to retire.  But it does make you think.  At least he made me think.

Well, after a bit of a touch and go medical issue, my doctor up here in New England told me there is no reason we shouldn’t try.  I’m fit and I’ve got the blood pressure of a teenager, hence the teenager snack attacks.  By all snack accounts I should be over weight, but as my luck would have it, I’m as slim as I was when I was a vegetarian and really watched everything I ate.  (Completely unfair, I know).  So according to my lovely Dr., we have the all clear to jump to it.  I would prefer to say like rabbits…but apparently it’s more of an every other day thing.  You don’t want to exhaust the sperm.  Who knew? I assumed the more sex the better.  There will be no hormones or fertility drugs involved.  It’s Au Naturale for us.

So, here’s to trying.  Really trying.  And if it doesn’t happen, then Frieda, my friend and psychic, was right.  It won’t be meant to be.  And in the mean time, me and my young husband can have a lot of fun.  Either way it will all turn out the way it is supposed to.  I have been so blessed already, it seems greedy of me to want another.  If you asked me a year ago if I would want another, my answer would not have been  the same.  I have evolved into a really good mom. I’m so happy to be right where I am.  So happy to share raising or child with my husband.  It’s more happiness than I ever knew was possible.   So I am making a promise to myself right here and now, in front of all of you.  I will not be upset if we don’t get pregnant.  I won’t let it shade the abundant sunshine we live in.  I truly believe in things happening the way they are supposed to.  My entire life is a testament to just that.  So we will give it a go.  Here’s to Project Sibling! Lol!

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight.  I know what I’ll be doing.  And remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is messing it up.  Xo