Frenzied

This is a bluntly honest post. If you don't like it, tough- it's where I am at right now, and I am choosing to be honest and not hide.

I have to admit, Monday marks 6 weeks since I gave birth, and I am in a bit of a frenzy. I am not sure if I have a touch of the baby blues, or if I am just insanely on edge from being home all day with three kids under 6, only leaving the house to drive Micah to school or to go to church on Sunday, or once a week to the grocery store and the fruit stand.

It's not post-postpartum depression, it's more like post-postpartum rage. Or postpartum disgusted-with-everything. Or postpartum I-need-a-break.

After my first birth, I was frankly too exhausted after a 30+hour labor and having half the blood supply of a normal, healthy adult to have the baby blues. I went back to work after about 4 weeks, and back to nursing school at about 9 weeks. I went back to school originally at 3 weeks, but decided that it was too much to handle and too another 6 off for my sanity.

I didn't have the baby blues much after having Levi. I had a great 9 weeks off of work after delivery, and only went back 1 day a week for 2 months before deciding to stay home permanently. Breastfeeding was a great victory for me after my horrible experience with Micah, and I got to stay at home with my babies.

Fast forward to now. I have a boy turning 6 next month, a boy who is a 21 month bolt of lightening, and a boy who is almost 6 weeks old that wants to be nursing constantly and requires a lot of attention.

But so does the 21 monther. He needs me to be just as attentive (for his own safety and for our house to not be destroyed!), he needs me to be more loving then ever because he is dealing with jealousy and feeling like he has been put on the back burner, and he still wants to nurse for that comfort.

And the 6 year old needs me, too. Not as much as he used to- he is starting to flap his wings and fly a little further from mommy all the time. But he needs to know that he is not forgotten. And he needs to know that he is not mommy's constant helper; he needs to know that it's okay to just be a kid. And not to have to worry about what mommy needs help with, or have his little brother wanting every single thing that he touches. He needs to know that he is important to our family and that he is loved.

Not only do all of them need me, but my husband needs me, too. He has been working like a dog to provide for us. He was blessed with starting a new job last week at a cardiology office. It's a Monday-Friday, office hours kind of job. No weekends, no holidays, one week of being on call a year. But he is still working at the hospital, too. And he is trying to take some of the load off me when he gets home for work by taking the baby or letting me shower. But I know he is anxious to get his wife back. And not just in a sexual way, but to be able to spend time with me and have me be coherent.

So there is the baby stress, the exhaustion stress, one car, throw in a little bill and bank stress...  top it off with spit up in my hair, not showering in 4 days, driving Jose and Micah everywhere, breastfeeding someone every half hour it seems, and opening the fridge and figuring out what to make for dinner or bathing two kids while nursing the baby on a stool next to the tub... it's just a little taxing.

So when the kids start acting up, I have been tending to fly of the handle. It's bringing out the worst in me. Exhaustion has shortened my temper and taken away my grace, my mercy, and my patience. It has made me into a bear! I don't like yelling, much less bellowing, at my kids. I don't want my children to remember me as a person who disciplined out of anger; that's not a way to teach them respect, and I want children who respect who I am and how I raised them. That's not to say I don't discipline- they get spanked, but when they've earned it. It's become far to easy for me lately to lose my cool because of the circumstances around me and treat them unfairly because I am not handling things how I should be.

Jose's mom and dad came by and picked up Micah and Levi yesterday. By 4:00 pm, Levi had still never had a nap, Jordi was madder than a mosquito in a mannequin factory, I had only slept about 3 hours, and Micah was asking every 5 minutes to go on the computer, the xbox, or tell me a Ninjago fact. I was at my wits end, so I called Jose at work. I started crying on the phone because he wasn't taking me seriously that I was stressed out, and I hung up on him. He proceeded to, instead of call me back, call his mom and arrange them spending the night to give me a break.

I must have looked like a raging hormonal woman when I answered the door. The kids were all ready to go, but the dog was going bonkers and not listening to me call her when I tried to put her away. I had Jordi in my arms and a bag on the table that I was putting their things into. In my arms was also a zip-up wetbag. That's what we put our dirty diapers in- it's a waterproof cloth bag that you zip up until wash time so there is no smell. Everyone else is chatting and laughing. My father-in-law laughs and says, "these kids can't give you a hard time. What are you, tired?"  My mother-in-law took one look at me, and in all seriousness, said to me with a straight face, "You're not going to put the baby in the bag, are you?"

Right. Like I am going to put your grandson in a plastic bag and zip him up. In front of you. HOW STRESSED DO YOU THINK I AM?! DO I REALLY LOOK THAT BAD?!

I laughed it off and explained I was putting diapers in it for Levi. When they left, I started bawling like a baby. Finally alone, I laid Jordi on our bed, laid on my side next to him so I could nurse, and slept for the next hour.

Jose and I ordered take out for dinner (for the first time in almost 4 weeks- we have been really tight on spending), and watched some of our favorite shows. When we hit the sack early for Jose to go to work the next morning, Jordi slept for 4 1/2 hours before waking again. I have napped off and on all day knowing that the kids are safe and taken care of, and all I have to care for is myself and Jordi.

And I know it's all going to get better. These days don't last forever. I also just got off the phone with my sister's father-in-law; they are gifting us a Suburban that we get to pick up in two weeks. It's such an amazing answer to prayer. Jose's job is changing where he won't be away from the house from before dawn til after bedtime. I am constantly reminded that God has us in the palm of his hand. Today has been one of those Psalm 23 days, where He literally, thanks to my husband and mother-in-law, MAKES me lie down in green pastures to rest. I am going to go take another nap now, eat a piece of chocolate, smell my delicious baby's new baby smell, and just enjoy the quiet for a few more hours til the banshees come home.

And when they get home, I am going to kiss them, because I have so missed them.

Tidbits

Snapshots from my life over the last week...

Mama. Levi said his first word, and I was so stoked about it because Micah would only say Dada for the longest time. Levi will only say it if he is crying and frustrated because I am not picking him up. He has said it three times so far, and every time he says it I get ever so giddy. Definitely one of the best tings about being a mom- the first time your child says your name, says "I love you", and kisses you are some of the sweetest things in life.

Micah flipping off the WIC waiting room. It was way more innocent than it sounds, but all the moms thought it was hilarious nonetheless. Micah and I had to get our hemoglobin checked, and it's just a finger prick. Micah was so good, sat on my lap and held his finger out even though he was scared. The lady picked his middle finger, of course. When he was done, the lady put a small band aid on his finger, and then decided that what he really needed was a giant band aid on his tiny finger. And then she drew a happy face on the band aid. So naturally, when we got to the waiting room, Micah proudly held up his middle finger to the ladies and their children and announced, "LOOK AT MY BLOOD SURGERY, EVERYONE!"

My heart was bursting with pride for my husband.  The nutritionist we saw immediately commented when she looked at my file and then looked at my baby that he was a gorgeous, healthy, perfect gem...commended me on my efforts to exclusively breastfeed, which of all the clients she sees, is extremely rare...she then asked how my experience with nursing has been and what support I have had...and then looked at my hubby, and said the following: "Dad, I just want to commend you on how supportive you have been. I mean it- you are great. More moms would breastfeed if they just had support from their husbands. Seriously, you are doing a great job, and your beautiful baby shows." It was a rare moment for my hub to have a little praise, feel included with the breastfeeding, and it just made me so content with the choices we have made to feed naturally despite the roadblocks in the early weeks.

Poop. Levi has decided that every time we are in the car, he will poop. I don't understand it; Jose is convinced that the vibration from the car seat induces it. He says we should make jiggly seats for constipated patients in the hospital to shake it out of 'em. In other news, Micah has regressed since we added Levi to the family. He has been fully potty trained since about 2, and since Levi arrived, he started going in his pants again. I am pretty sure it is to get attention, and boy does it get my attention but not in a good way. It is something we are working through, and from what I understand, when Micah hits his next big developmental milestone, it should resolve itself... Which brings us to our next point.

School. My first born with not be with me every day for the first time in his life, other than an occasional mission trip. He starts Sept. 6th, and I don't know whether to laugh, dance for joy, cry, or try and take a nap every morning while he is gone.

Hosanna vs. Jose. Hosanna, Hosanna, Hosanna in the highest... Micah blurts out during worship in Sunday morning church, "Why are they singing about Daddy?  They keep saying Jose." Hosanna, Hosanna, Hosanna in the highest... Oh well. At least he is making an effort to listen. I had to stifle the laugh and then explain why we call Jesus another name sometimes.

I absolutely love my life since deciding to be obedient to the Lord, making the plunge, and deciding to stay home. Every day is a new adventure. Most of them involve some off-the-wall incidents, way too many bodily functions, moments where we laugh, moments where I am at the end of my rope and ready to let go...but all in all, I wouldn't trade it for anything. Not money, not fame, not retiring early, not a night of full sleep, not getting dressed up to hit the town. I heard a funny expression this week, and it was "baby rabies". And yes, I think I have been bitten.

These Times, They Are A Changing...

A day in the life of a pregnant heifer/mother of a preschooler means absolutely NO time for anything, so I am sure you can all forgive me for not posting for 2 weeks. And if you can't, then maybe you would care to rub my little sausage toes and swollen feet while I type. Or get me my second glass of water all day. Or just let me pee in peace... There will be the typical update for 26ish weeks after the doc on Tuesday.

*(Putting my feet up on the computer desk as we speak)*

This may end up as a vent, but some times venting gives you clarity about what you should do. You know, clears your head from all the mumbo jumbo lying around in there, and lets you see it for what it really is. So here goes.

I have really struggled the last 2 weeks, and that is part of the reason why I have not posted anything. Mostly, I have been wresting the bears of feeling like and inadequate parent, feeling like I am just a maid in my own home, and feeling SO overwhelmed--that in roughly three months it will be "baby makes 4", and the madness will ensue.

I am currently working part time as a nurse. Two shifts a week, and each shift is usually 12-13 hours. Jose (THANK GOD) is graduated, and working his tail off as a trauma nurse at the local trauma hospital, and is doing a mighty fine job of it if I do say so my self. Let me give you an idea of the last week:

Sunday- 14 hour shift
Monday- called in on my day off, 6 hours 
Tuesday-cleaning like crazy, keeping Micah quiet because Jose works at night and has to sleep,  band practice
Wednesday-keeping Micah busy while Jose sleeps during the day, Jose works at night, youth group
Thursday- keeping Micah busy while Jose sleeps again, Jose works again at night, Micah is at the grandparents
Friday-I work day shift, Jose sleeps all day, he goes in to work, and I get off after him and pick up Micah
Saturday- Catch up day, grocery shop, bills, keep Micah busy, Jose works at night
Sunday (today)- I work all day, Jose goes in tonight, thankfully my parents watched Micah while I was working. 

How this is in any way conducive to keeping a child in a routine, or keeping a marriage healthy, is beyond me. Micah kissed Jose in the morning Thursday before Jose went to bed to sleep for work, and has not seen him all weekend, and won't until tomorrow at 7:30am when Jose off. I know it's only for a season, and I know Jose is trying to move to day shift, and that at least he has work in today's economy...BUT...I just desire to have consistency and peace in my house- not be left trying to keep my head above water whilst the house is falling apart around me, having an almost 4 year old rebelling because he misses his daddy, and feeling constantly drained while being asked for more, more, more.

I know for sure I am taking my full 12 weeks off. And I know I am a nurse that is pretty good at what I do. I like it, I love my patients, and I want to stay active in medicine. But I am having such a hard time rationalizing going back even 2 days a week, especially if Jose is working nights. We talked about it last night, and I think I will maybe work every other weekend or so, just to get out and keep my self current, but then I can actually stay home and be a mommy most of the time. When I had Micah, I went back to school 5 days a week and working 35 hours a week when he was 8 weeks old-- and I never got to just be Mommy, and relish my time at home with him. I am so torn- I love my profession, and don't want to quit, but I love my family more. 

Besides, I am really getting excited about doing all the mommy stuff again. For instance, I got a really cool (almost sexy) nursing wrap that I am so excited to use: 

 And last time I hardly had the chance to breastfeed, and I wanted to so badly. All of the work and stress from going back when he was 8 weeks dried me up after a week, so I want to do everything I can this time to do it for longer because it truly is the best gift you can give your baby that early. I am excited about diapering with my cute cloth diapers and saving a boat load of money. I am excited about him and Micah getting to know each other. I am excited to get a dog for them some day. And excited about late nights, and crying, and colic, and everything that comes with being a mom. 


So I think in the coming months, I will be hanging my hat on being a nurse except a couple days a month to keep active with my license and what is happening in the hospital. Besides, I will have enough of my own nursing to do. At home. With my new cool wrap :)