Pretty...Dominican Republic

Hot, Sticky, Humid

It seems that this is just 'one of those weeks' --you want to do so much, but then you step outside and it is just plain old G-R-O-S-S.  It is hot and sticky outside in North Carolina this week. 

I would think about going to the neighborhood pool, but then I re-think that thought each day, after the Hand, Foot and Mouth incident posted to the neighborhood's Yahoo group.  A 2 yo girl got the yucky ailment because our HOA didn't close the pool when its cleaning system died for a day or two, turning the water cloudy.  Yuck.

I am sure it's fixed...yes, the HOA said it was on Monday, but I still just can't bring my 10 month old there yet.  Yes, I am over-protective.  I even called my nurse-line fromo BCBS to make sure I knew all the symptoms of HFM, just in case the LO caught it.

So the weather is hot, I am bored, which, in turn, means the LO is bored.  Poor little guy, like me, needs to constantly be amused.  He likes TV, but that is a 20-some minute treat he gets maybe once a day.  (Yes, I let my child watch TV--some times the going gets rough, sue me.)

He is "napping" now-- he isn't, I know he's not, he is whining every couple minutes, but I am hoping he falls asleep. 

We're going to the Farmer's Market after his next bottle and lunch.  (This is one of the four bottles in a day where I will have to work on feeding him for 2 hours that follow the official bottle time...[I'll write about that in another post.])  We're going to get fresh veggies for the 4th, and, potentially, some good fruit.

I hope he sleeps...if not, I'm going to have a very unhappy baby in a stroller when it's already hot, humid, and sticky outside beneath the old farmer hanger in downtown Raleigh. 

Nerds are cool

My friend passed along this article from CNN.  It struck a cord as I was raised a scholastic nerd.  I never had problems dealing with it because I liked to learn and liked school and grades were so important to me.

"Jocks go on to play for your favorite team but nerds go on to own the teams those jocks play for."
--LZ Granderson

Check out the entire article:
http://www.cnn.com/2011/OPINION/06/28/granderson.raising.nerd/index.html

This says it all for me today...

Change is Forever...

Life is constantly in flux, I guess.

We have changed the sunroom into a playroom for our son.  It looks great, but I do feel bad as we had to, again, move the dog's spot for sleeping.  (However, please not that she still does have three spots for sleeping/resting, we added another sleeping/resting spot in her Dad's office with the loss of her sunroom hangout.)

Our son needed a place to be safe, while not getting into some yucky stuff, like the dog food and water bowls...for some reason he has a natural affinity to these bowls--ugh, yuck, gross.

I have to move some of my stuff out of the room, i.e., some writing notebooks and papers on the very bottom shelf of a filing cabinet, but otherwise the room 'seems' childproofed and 'seems' good to be inhabited by our little explorer.

I can't believe how fast and how big he has gotten already...it's truly an awe-inspiring turn-of-events, especially since last year at this time he was just a small little fetus in utero.

So wonderous, so crazy, but, then again, this is life...

Quiet morning moments: take them when you can

I think my son is getting the hang of Saturday morning with Mommy and Daddy.  He finally has the capacity to lay in bed with us, and snuggle, giggle, and so adorably suck on his trademark two fingers.  (Note: until a couple of days ago, our son would wake up and be all beside himself, so I can only hope that this phase lasts.)

However, I think this happy is happening because the minute I hear him wake up (yes, I still use a monitor), I scramble to the bathroom, brush my teeth, wash my face, and use the potty, and then race into his room.  He doesn't have a chance to cry and mornings are a little more pleasant.

The sacrifice of getting my stuff done quick in order to get to him before Cry-fest 2011 begins is definitely worth the effort.  (And, yes, I see the selfishness of my actions, but I like this time with my two guys.)

When our son was born, I never thought quiet moments would follow--it has been a struggle with colic, reflux, constipation, and, now, teething.  I can't say one is worse than the other-- they were all pretty brutal in different ways. 

Yet, with every stepping stone, a new milestone is reached.  As a family you get through it, and you forget when the next journey begins. 

Something I just realized: don't forget to look back.  Look at where you came from and recognize how far you've all gotten and how much your family has grown individually and as a unit.  It's amazing.

I can't believe now how fast our little guy has grown.  It's awesome and sad all at once.

Is this is what they call Mommy-amnesia?

Independence is a good thing, right?

I like having my own life, and now my little family too.  Is that a bad thing?

Not sure, but it's great to know I have an awesome husband that is always here for my son and I, and he can always count on me to be his pillar of strength, support, and unconditional love. 

I love having our little boy-a product of Mommy and Daddy.

Is it bad that my life now doesn't revolve around the 'extended family?'  I feel like they think it is not acceptable that I have this life of my own. 

These thoughts are further exacerbated because I have a child, I feel.  There is that certain expectation that they try to hone in on the family, and are just not happy with the way things are right now.  It could be I live too close, I am not sure.  As a result I have a constant guilt about having my own life.

It's irritating and tiring.  I never have the weekend with just our little family, I always include the extended family in it, but it seems, like today, it is never enough.

I can't say/write too much for fear of hurting feelings or expectations-- hell, I can't even write everything I feel here because, though I would love to let it all out, it would annoy/hurt/bother people involved...yet, I feel like it is a right I earned upon reaching adulthood, and it is a right I didn't start to exert until I got married at 29, when I really did grow-up.

Not sure what to say or how to handle things?  I would love to just live my life for my family and not worry about nonsense, and deal with people as an adult, but, raised in an Italian family there seem to be some unspoken traditions of this is what you will do, and you will do it even if you do not like it.

Is that why so many people move away from there families?  Maybe to have the life and the world that they want to live? 

All I know is that when my boy grows up and A) goes to college or B) moves out and starts his life on his own, his Daddy and I are going to worry about him, of course, but we're going to start to live that past life from our younger days and travel and go out and have fun. 

Maybe it's a different mindset, I am not sure, but I feel like I am living under a microscope in a very confined box, and I don't like feeling like that as an adult.  I was looking fwd to adulthood so that I can make my own decisions, and even personal decisions (or my family decisions) seems to resonate an impact with my now extended family.

So, um, I keep asking myself, when will I gain my independence or is it something I am going to have to make myself, but step on toes to make it happen?

Dissipating patience

There's my little boy that I am Mommy to, but then there is the dog.  The latter, not by choice.

I am trying real hard, and have tried hard to be patient with our dog, but she is trying my patience.

She is allergic to Bermuda grass, that is the grass in NC that covers 90% of yards when you're a middle income family.  She licks her paws all day, like it's her job from June through October. 
We've done everything to help her, but our dog is also very spoiled and very much a "Daddy's" girl.  She doesn't listen to me, and I've been told it's because I am not nice to her.  I am not mean to her at all, I just don't shower her with affection and don't give her the run of the house, which her Daddy gave her both (attention and household reign) until I came along in 2006.  Since then she no longer frequents the second floor and she doesn't lounge on the couches, unless it is her couch. 

It's sad, but I've learned that the more attention I pay to our dog, the more needy she becomes, and that is very difficult to handle her with a baby.  So, my husband tells me to ignore her and let her be, which is very hard when all you hear day-in and day-out is "lick-lick-slurp." 

I feel bad for the dog only because she is suffering from allergies.  But then I don't feel that bad because I am deathly allergic to her, and in order to make living with her feasible I am on allergy medication 24/7/365.  And it's not just the casual, once in awhile watery, itchy eyes; runny nose and sneezing; and scratchy throat issues, but it includes a dermatitis allergy, which goes full force once she licks me or rubs against me (saliva and dander).  It is bad.  The unfortunate aspect of it all is that our son has the dermatological problem.  We get licked, and we swell up like red balloons in that area.  It's terrible, but that's the price we pay.

I can deal with this and some thousand of other issues.  I am not the easiest person to live with, I know that for a fact.  Today, though, I lost the little patience I had left. 

Every day, any time before I leave the house, I ask and recommend the dog to 'go potty.'  She rarely does, but rather jumps on her couch for her treat.  Well, no dice for the potty today.  I left at 11:20 AM to go the pool.  No worries.

Then I got home just 2 hours later (and when I worked she would hold her bladder for 10 hours straight) to find a massive pile of sh!t by the back door.  No big deal, but this is the second time she did this today.  We woke up to another massive sh!t by the kitchen table/den doorway.  Worse, she then, when I was home, stepped in it (because I brought her to the door to make her go out to go potty), and proceeded to run around the house tracking sh!t everywhere.

I had to put her outside, put my son down for a nap, and then clean up the kitchen floors and rugs since my son just started crawling and always has his fingers in his mouth after he crawls about.  I was, and still am, pissed.

Realistically, the dog is acting out because she is not getting attention, and her Daddy has now started to put his foot down with regard to her behavior.  (Even though she hasn't been listening to me for years, this is a new mode of action in becoming belligerent for Dad, and he isn't defending her defiant behavior anymore.)

I am trying to be patient.  I like the dog (to some degree), don't get me wrong, if I didn't I wouldn't worry about the chewing and biting her paws, but at the same time, she is blatantly disrespectful too, and, for that, I can't stand her.  She just can't be a normal obedient dog.  She acts consistently like a spoiled, selfish child. 

There's not much left to say...ther's no changing the situation...it is what it is until time expires.  Until then I guess I will continue to vaccum each day, pick dog hair off my clothes, take dog hair out of my son's mouth, spot clean the poop stains on the carpet, deodorize the place, and continue my medicines so that I don't blow up like a porcupine.

Work and Play...every day

I've come up with a plan of action.  Every day, no matter what, I need to blog.  I am hoping it will keep my writing clean and my mind sharp, and give me some of that connection to the outside world. 

These past ten months my resolutions have been noble, but have been shot down quickly like clay plates being tossed in the air just to be blown apart.

I started thinking I was going to blog on my life as a Mommy, but I realized I am much more dimensional than being JUST a Mommy.  I am still a member of society, something I now forget.  I realized that even though my son is my life, I also still have a life.  My son is an extension of his Daddy (my husband and a man) and me (his Mommy, a wife, and a woman).  I have to show my sweet little boy, and me, that I can function at various levels of play and work.  Not easy.

I've learned to WORK hard through life...that's easy for me.  But now I have to learn to PLAY hard too, or else you become a grumpy old person.  And according to today's society, old is over 85, so I have a long time to get to 'old' and be privileged to be grumpy on demand.  (Oh, I can't wait for that privilege--I've already had great practice for the past 30-some years.)

I am thinking how sad I am as a person that I failed to see PLAY throughout my ENTIRE life, but rather I fixated on WORK.

Now is my chance to change a little--I am going to WORK and PLAY hard.  (I should add the word TRY before PLAY given my track record.)

In essence, it's going to be a long, hard road, but hopefully rewarding for me and those around me too.