The Delicate Balance

I hate wasting time. Which is ironic because I waste a lot of it. Or at least I think I do. And then I remember that just because I have Netflix playing in the background doesn't negate the fact that I'm making dinner, picking up the living room (for the hundredth time today), sorting laundry, keeping my little man alive and well, and trying to fit a shower in there. And if that doesn't seem like a lot for one day, just remember that it's all being done in tiny, tiny chunks because my main goal is definitely being a mother to my son. Sometimes that does mean putting him in his play pen to play by himself for a few minutes so I can make dinner without burning it. But most of the time that means hands on mama time. Books to be read, tents to be built (and if you think he's too young for tents you're missing the amazed look on his face when we crawl into it), block towns to be destroyed, and harmonicas to be marveled at. Also of note, heads to be bonked, teeth to be cut, maniacal laughter to scare mama with, faces to make, things to be gotten into that ought not to be gotten into, messes to make, and so, so, so many things to try to eat.

Lets be honest, showering is now a twice a week occurrence, and even then its not because I want to. I'm usually too tired to enjoy the sensation of being clean, and honestly would rather just take a five minute nap. Actually, no matter what I am doing I would rather be taking a five minute nap. I digress.

When I truly ponder it (like I am now, because my husband is home from work helping with our little man) I realize that in all reality I don't waste much time. Sure, I could be more productive in that half an hour before bed in which I usually look at funny pictures on the internet, but at that point I'm honestly so exhausted even reading is often out of the question. In fact, argument could be made that I don't waste enough time.

Because time wasting isn't always a waste. When every moment is attempting productivity, days are long and exhausting. Minds need to recharge. Reset. And not like 'pinterest' recharging either. I am not a super mom. Yes, I can get a crap ton of stuff done in one day while taking care of my son. Because I'm awesome. But my 'down time' is not spent Martha Stewart-ing my home.

So, to get away from my ingrained 'guilt cycle', I'm scheduling time wasting. Small chunks of every day in which I do something that cannot be considered productive. I'm gonna let you know how it goes. The experiment starts now.

Day 470 - If Mama Ain't Happy

Mommyfession: Last night, I had a margarita. Okay, two margaritas. It had been one of those days.

I woke up and since I had a bit of extra time on my hands, thought that I would do something other than a ponytail. While Youtube tutorials have rarely let me down, they did this time. I spent an hour trying things over and over again only to be frustrated and feeling ridiculous and useless by the end of it. My nails aren't manicured, I can't just egyptian fish knot goddess braid my own hair in 30 seconds, and I don't understand what 'day 3' hair is. And those things made me feel... like less of a woman. Doesn't matter that I have a 7 month old to keep up with rather than a purse dog, or that I spend my time doing dishes and laundry and browsing pinterest for recipes rather than chevron nail art. I still felt... less than.

Then I forgot to go pick up our produce from the CSA, a waste and a taste tragedy. Green garlic and pea shoots and nappa cabbage because my experiments with at home chinese take out have been quite successful and I'm ready to take it to the next level for Christmas week. Non-refundable, might I add. "Totally spaced it." Is not sympathy inducing.

Emotional, hormonal, and dangerously close to losing control, I got my feelings hurt by Anthem right before we were supposed to leave for dinner. I knew it wasn't really his fault, but that didn't stop the tears. So when we got out to dinner, (at which there were $1 margaritas), I had one. And that one felt so good. I felt the stress of the entire day melting away because it was silly. It was a hairdo and nappa cabbage. Somehow, life would go on. I felt myself unwinding for perhaps the first time in weeks. I giggled. I laughed. I did a little dance. Anthem was amused. We flirted a little. We talked. I relaxed.

It began to dawn on me that I was the problem the past few weeks. Anthem wasn't being distant, I was. I was so determined to be a strong, productive wife and mama that I was getting frustrated and upset all the time when things didn't go to plan. And with a husband whose hours can vary greatly, and a constantly changing 7 month old, things almost never go to plan. I was so tightly wound I was winding him up just by being around me. I was making our home feel tense. It certainly wasn't intentional. It was the exact opposite of what I was intending to be like. But I was, just the same. 

It was then that the truth of, "If mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy" became clear. I used to hate this saying, assuming that it meant a mama who put herself first and dominated her husband and children. Now I understand it a bit more. It's not about making a husband do what you want, it's about acknowledging the unique power we as wives and mothers have to influence the peace of our home and those who dwell in it. 

Even as a mama who loves to stay at home, and gets fulfillment cooking and cleaning, there has to be more if I'm going to stay a fully functioning woman. Whether it's reading, or a morning spent on youtube tutorials, a new crochet pattern, or some game time, mama has to stay sane. And that doesn't make me a neglectful mama or wife or homemaker, it makes me a whole person. And a better wife and mama. 

Day 469 - Flashbacks and Time Crunches

Hi.

It's been so long. We need to catch up. We need a half a day devoted to nothing but hot tea, an Austen movie in the background (A BBC Masterpiece theatre selection would also work), and crocheting some slippers while we fill each other in on what's going on in our lives. Except that's not going to happen because I've got about fifteen minutes while my little man takes a nap. It's not much but it's a start. 

I reread blog posts from the past today and it was beyond strange to hear my voice talking to me from the past. That girl who had seemingly endless time to reflect and write seems like a stranger now. Have I really changed so much? 

Yes. Yes is the short answer. 

For starters: How did I not realize how much time I had!? Dear Heaven. No wonder I was so angsty about everything. All I ever did was ruminate. Honestly. 

And yet, yet I did not know myself half as well as I thought I did. But only time reveals that truth. No amount of solitude or introspection can shed that light. Only hindsight. For fun, allow me to follow up on a few of the characters from the blog. 

The OSM and I haven't spoken since before my wedding. While a complete break wasn't what I had expected, I can't say that I would have it any other way, either. I do love the OSM still, but he has no place in my life now. I look back on him fondly, and thankfully, but without any desire to renew that friendship. 

The Gentleman isn't a gentleman. He's kind of an asshole to be honest. A classy asshole, to be sure, but still an asshole. I have no idea how that self delusion lasted as long as it did. Honestly, my relationship with him is the one I regret the most. Ugh. Just makes me shudder. 

I have no idea what nickname I used to use for my buddy in the blog, so I'm just going to call him my buddy. He recently got engaged (finally) and while he and I are no longer close, it is a very comfortable distance. Life changes, so do relationships. It was good while it lasted, while we needed it, and now life moves us ever apart. 

My heterosexual life mate and I haven't spoken in months, which is very sad because I miss her quite a lot. I miss the smell of glitter.

Mom is doing well, and due for a visit in the coming months. Miss Erica is still in Iowa and working on her degree. Alex and I saw each other recently, and it was lovely.

It was so easy, in Iowa. I had so many friends. Always talking about my guy friends and how I'd always have them. Turns out, once I had the attention and devotion of one man, that was all I needed. To be honest, I now find single men exceedingly tedious. It is women I miss. I'm... having more trouble making friends here than I thought. Like I said in the beginning, I only have fifteen minutes here and there. I've been working on this post for three days.

Oh, bussom buddies. Christmas and cooking and crochet and tea. Quiet days. They were lovely, though I wouldn't trade my babbling boy to get them back. I believe it will be a number of years before I get my quiet days again. Instead, I have days full of giggles and sudden tears and poopy diapers and endless wiggles. And that is enough for now. Indeed, more than enough. My days are loud, but my heart is full. It is time for a new type of bussom buddy. Not the one of my twenties: single, flighty and fanciful, lacking any solid direction. Life is too different now. I have my direction. I have my family. Perhaps, now that I take the time to ruminate a little, I am having such difficulty because I have not taken the time to realize how much has changed.

So, I pray that someday soon, I may find a soul a little like mine and we can share our time together. There. Now tell me about what's going on with you. 

Day 468 - First World Problems

Here's the thing, verbal affirmation is like crack to me. I need it. As much as anyone can dish out, I can bask in it. Swim in it. Soak in it. It's my drug. 

The opposite is also true; verbal criticism withers me. The smallest amount is magnified through my ultra-self-criticism lense and before you know it, I'm sobbing up a storm and shrinking into myself, swearing to never emerge again lest I fail in so spectacular a manner. 

Anthem has graciously pointed out my tendency to turn, "Are you sure you cleaned this dish?" into a full blown meltdown over how terrible a wife I am. I like to think I've gotten better, but criticism can still bring tears to my eyes if I'm caught off guard. Or tired. Or already frustrated with myself. I'm a work in progress.

Anyway. We're going to skip the story, because it's irrelevant, and get to the punchline. Frustrated, angry, desperately-wanting-to-point-fingers me goes to God and asks what He wants me to do about the situation. To be completely honest, it was sort of a half-assed prayer. I wasn't really interested in what He wanted me to do, I was interested in how I could get what I wanted. 

Luckily for me, God answered the question I asked. Not so luckily, He was pretty blunt about it. Now, while I do not claim to have one-on-one auditory conversations with the Good Lord Almighty, we do have a way of chatting that is singular in that while the actual word for word is unclear and difficult to replicate, the feelings and directions conveyed are crystal clear. Also of note, this does not happen every time I ask a question. In fact, it's pretty rare. 

Though to be without pretense, so is my one on one time with God at this point. *shameface*

Me: "What do You want me to do?"

GLA (Good Lord Almighty): I want you to stop whining about it and just do it. It's inconvenient. Okay, do it anyway. It's not easy, not receiving the verbal affirmation you so desire, I know. It's even harder to do with the constant criticism, but that's no reason to stop. Your husband appreciates what you do, and so do I. So suck it up, and get at it. 

Me (slightly taken aback): "But what about the relationships? I don't want to become angry or bitter."

GLA: Then don't. Sow seeds of peace and harmony. Live the faith you're so desperate for. That's how you change. That's how you grow. Be gracious and humble. I will see. I will appreciate. 

Me (pouting): "But it's not fair! And everyone should know that it's not fair."

GLA: I've told you what I want you to do, the rest belongs to me. Leave it here. Leave it with me, and do what I've asked with a glad heart and helpful hands. 

Me: "But -"

GLA: Will you let Me work in you or won't you? Be different. This isn't a real problem. You're not hungry, your son and husband are healthy, you have a roof over your head. This is an opportunity that I am giving you to become more like Me. To love more like Me. To live more like Me. Do it. Set yourself aside and do it. You cannot change anyone, and only I can change you. Do it for love of Me. 

That's all. That's the whole kitten-kaboodle. I have no idea if it applies to you or if it's totally out of left field. I just wanted to share. That's whats going on with me right now. 

Day 467 - The Arrival

The sweet swaddling phase only lasted about two weeks but oh it was cute while it lasted. 

It's been just over 7 weeks since Haven arrived. That's weird to put into words because its difficult to remember life without him. It's the most surreal thing to watch the baby you've been loving, carrying, and anticipating go from a nudge (or painful rib kick) to a tiny human in your arms.

That day changed my life forever, and I want to share it with you.

He has some of the best faces. This one was telling me he was less than pleased with the socks on his hands.

It was 3:30 am, Friday, May 2nd when I woke up to use the bathroom for the umpteenth time that night. I had stopped counting how many times I woke up to use the restroom about three months previously as once you top 10 in an 8 hour period you just kind of give up. As I was stumbling toward the toilet, I felt a sharp pain in my back and rolled my eyes. More gas. Awesome. Thankfully, it seemed short lived and I was able to return to bed easily. I woke up about 30 minutes later with the same sharp gas pain, but as it quickly went away it occurred to me for the first time that perhaps it might not be gas. I hoped to wake up again shortly. I did. I smiled and waited for Anthem to wake up for work so I could tell him. Haven was coming.

It was 4:30 am when Anthem woke up for work. I looked at him sleepily and tell him I'm pretty sure I'm having contractions, but they're so mild he should go to work anyway and I'll call him if they get worse. After all, this could last for days. He was not tampered by my cautiousness, though. He immediately perked up. "Really? Contractions?"

I smiled. "Really." He went to work and I tried to watch Grey's Anatomy and fall back asleep. Two hours later, however, he was on his way home. I needed him with me as they got stronger. I got dressed, we put the finishing touches on our overnight bags, and went for a walk. They hurt, but they were not close enough together to go to the hospital. So we paced the block to speed things up, both of us excited beyond words that we would be meeting our son soon. We joked, we spoke of our anticipation, of our longing for him. We hoped. It didn't take long. We were at the hospital and I was 5cm dilated by 11:00am.

He can give me that look all day long, I'm not going to stop taking his picture a thousand times a day. 

It's weird, being admitted for labor. I had two straps all the way around my torso. One keeping track of my contractions, the other monitoring Haven's heartbeat. They gave me an iv to keep me hydrated, and just in case they needed to give me anything else. It was burdensome, having so many wires around me. That was the only part I didn't like. It seemed like forever, though it was only about a half an hour until we were in the labor room. Thus began the realization that we were going to use absolutely nothing that we had packed in our labor bag. The playlist we had spent hours on was forgotten in the bag because I was concentrating so hard on the contractions. No movies either to distract me.

It hurt. But it was manageable. So long as Anthem was by my side, I could do this. The hours passed slowly. It seemed forever before it was 2 pm and they were checking me again. I felt crushed when they told me I hadn't dilated anymore. And that my doctor was leaving at 6 pm and wouldn't be back until Monday. They asked if I wanted them to break my water to try and speed things along. I agreed.

This was the first time he discovered his thumb. He was not a fan. 

That's when it went from doable to horrible. The contractions became unbearable, and my pain tolerance jumped out the window. I filled two vomit bags. The contractions were 2- 3 minutes long with less than 30 seconds in between. To me, they felt constant. By 3:30 pm I was begging for a break, for a breather. They checked me again and said I was only 7cm. This could last for hours. I asked for iv pain medication, just to catch my breath, just to get a second wind. I got lost in the weeds. All I could think about was the pain. They explained how I could only get them once an hour, and if it looked like Haven was going to be arriving imminently, I couldn't have them as the drugs could make him lethargic. I nodded, desperate to get any form of relief. As fate would have it, as soon as she finished administering the pain medication into my iv, I felt like I needed to push.

Someone checked me and told me to stop, that I was only 7cm and pushing could hurt me and Haven. But I couldn't stop. I was trying, but going against that need to push had me sobbing and crying out that I had to push. My doctor was outside the door, getting briefed by a nurse when she heard me crying out that I had to push. She came in to check for herself, and thank God she did. She took one look, not an exam; she didn't feel me, just a glance before saying, "Oh! We're going to have a baby!"

She was in a dress and heels. Apparently she had just finished giving a lecture and was checking her patients before she left for a conference in Dallas. That didn't stop her from gowning up. I looked at Anthem. "Really?" I asked and he heard all the desperation behind that word. "We're going to have a baby? He's going to come? The pain is going to end?"

He kissed my hand. "Really."

That's right. My child can blue steel it up all day. 

Then a flood of people entered the room and suddenly the lights got super bright. I remember being vaguely aware that I was exposed to an entire room full of people but I genuinely couldn't care less. Haven was about to join us. And then another contraction had me crying out. The doctor told me I was  9.5 cm and she was going to stretch that last .5cm manually so I could push.

I pushed, screaming in a way that I can only describe as the most instinctive, gutteral sound that has ever come out of me. The books were right about this part. After all this pain, being able to push made me feel better. Not a reduction of pain, but the knowledge that it'll all be over and being able to actually move things along. Anthem gripped my hand as I squeezed his. He held my head up, chin to chest, to help me push. 

"Almost," the doctor told me. "I can see his head. You'll feel the ring of fire soon, and then it's just a few pushes more."

I felt the 'ring of fire' but I would call it a 'ring of mild inconvenience' compared to every other pain in my body. And then his head was out, which, by the way, feels incredibly strange. Two more pushes and then his whole body slid out and it was over. The doctor clamped the umbilical cord immediately to make sure Haven got as little of the drug as possible into his system, and before my eyes (though the memory is a bit blurry) Anthem cut the cord.

Chillin without a care in the world. 

Haven was quickly checked out to make sure the drug was not affecting him. It wasn't. He was alert and healthy, and the vernix was rubbed in. He never left Anthem's sight. It was a whirlwind. Within a few minutes Haven was on my chest and feeding. He latched immediately. I vaguely remember the doctor telling me that the placenta had passed (we were unable to take it with us as the cost of legal fees - in Texas you need a court order to bring it home because its a biohazard - and the cost of having it dried and ground were too much) and she was stitching me up. Thankfully, I didn't require an episiotomy and had only a small superficial tear that required a single stitch. 

But in the moment, all I could see was our son.

Honestly.

Our beautiful, pink, alert, nursing son. Anthem and I just stared at him. We'd made him. He was ours. And he was amazing. His dark grey blue eyes looked up at us. Our Haven had arrived and our lives were forever changed.

He did this half smirk thing for a solid week before he gave us a full on smile. How you doin?

At 4 days old he started trying to hold his head up. For the past week he's been smiling more and more, and starting to babble. Today he rolled from his back to his side, though he couldn't quite get himself onto his stomach. He's amazing, and we're obsessed. Welcome to the world, Haven. 

Day 466 - Declutter Your Time

Moving from a small apartment to living in a single room with your in-laws forces one to reevaluate what you really need and pare down much of your possessions. Anthem and I are at the point that even though I'm reading a really great book on living a minimalist lifestyle, we're having trouble imagining getting rid of anything else. We're pretty much down to the bare minimum the way it is.

But after a few hours of contemplation, it occurred to me that I can declutter my time. Especially when it comes to superfluous distractions. So I took my phone, took a deep breath, and deleted Facebook and Tickld. I used those two apps literally hourly every day. And gained nothing from them. I also deleted about 10 apps that I never used and were just taking up space, but Facebook and Tickld were by far the hardest. They were my habits, they were what I turned to whenever I was not currently occupied, and often times when I was.

And I was the worse for it. There are things that I want to do, but every day would pass me by mostly wasted. Granted, some of it is because I'm the size of a small mountain and can't do what I used to. But most of it, and I mean a solid 90% of my time wasting was due to nothing more than distractions and letting time slip away.

The distractions kept me from productivity. They stole my focus, kept me complacent, and sapped my motivation. (In all honesty, and without pretense, if you've been following the blog for any amount of time whatsoever, you'll realize that this is not the first time I've blogged about this exact issue. I suck at managing my time and I'm grieved over it.) I'm wasting my twenties. I love my life, but am horridly disappointed with myself. I am capable of doing so much more. And every day I'm going to wake up and try. Especially because Haven is due any minute now. Especially because I adore Anthem. But just because I've come to this conclusion before, and fallen back into my old habits does not make me a hopeless case. It means that I'm not giving up, and trying again. And I'll keep trying until I get it. I'll always be changing. It's life.

As I write this particular part of the post, know I've been awake since 3am for reasons beyond my comprehension with a deep, deep desire to vacuum the entire house. Due to the fact that we do not live alone, that was impossible. Okay, not impossible, but extremely rude. So I had a few hours to occupy. It was difficult to not log onto Facebook immediately on my computer, or just start watching TV. But I persevered, albeit it's just for one morning, and yet I celebrate my small victory. Because for a few hours this morning, I just read a book. A good book. Just fiction. And it was glorious. And I want to continue.

A little encouragement can go a long way. So as I pray that this restlessness is a symptom of impending labor, I'm pleased with my baby step forward. My small morning of victory. Here's to praying it snowballs.

If this sounds good to you, I encourage you to take a few steps with me.

1) Make your phone smart again. Delete your time wasting apps and download some helpful ones for when you do want your phone to keep you from the mind numbing boredom of waiting rooms.

I highly recommend the app Duolingo. Also the Kindle app, or any reading app. The amount of free books you can get is staggering if you search. Bookbub.com is a great place to start, and gutenberg.org has most of the classics. Find apps that will enrich your life, teach you something, help you. I'm not saying they can't be entertaining. I kept Pinterest because I love browsing it for recipes and DIY projects. But delete time wasters. For me it was Facebook, Tickld, and Cracked. That way you're not nearly as tempted to look at your phone when your attention should be committed to what's right in front of you as the 'smarter' apps require more focus than browsing Facebook.

2) Remember something you used to do to occupy yourself before your smart phone, and if possible, before the internet and do that thing again. For me, it was reading. I was the kid who always had three books on her at all times. And a gameboy, but that's irrelevant at the moment. Reading is a true passion of mine that slowly got edged out by social media and memes. More importantly, it was something that was easy for me to start again because of how captivating I find a good book.

The second step (which I hope to pursue today) was DIY projects. But remember, start small. Don't take on a huge project to distract yourself. Slowly fill your free time with what you love and we'll get there.

3) Have grace with yourself. I want to watch less TV it's true, especially streaming (darn you Grey's Anatomy) but that doesn't mean I'm going to not watch the new episode of Game of Thrones. Everything, even distractions, have a time and a place. It's about being in control of your entertainment instead of letting your entertainment control you.

Speaking of, life is calling and today is pretty full for me. If you're joining me in this, let me know. I want to pray for you and encourage you and partner in doing this together. If you're already in control of your time, I applaud you and ask that you share with me and others how you stay that way.

Day 465 - Your Stuff

To everyone who interacts with me or my social media account, I'm sorry. Haven has developed his own gravity, it seems. Not only in my body, but my thoughts and actions revolve around him as well. I'm constantly thinking of getting ready for his arrival and daydreaming about what it'll be like when he gets here. Pretty much to the exclusion of everyone and everything else. Except food. That will still grab my attention.

But you still have stuff and I want to hear about it. I want to know what's going on in your life. My baby A.D.D. does not mean that I don't care about you and your stuff anymore. I do. I just need you to be assertive about it right now because I really struggle to pop the Haven bubble. Not to mention the baby brain that makes it rather difficult to remember where we last left off and therefore ask you relevant questions about any developments. I promise, I do still care and I do still want to hear. You're my friends, my family, and you're important to me. Even if I'm having a difficult time expressing that right now because in between your sentences of 'so today I found out' and 'next week I'm going to' I've suddenly remembered that I haven't read the instruction manual for the wipe warmer yet and am rethinking which drawer I want to store the diapers in.

I do hope you'll forgive me. I've never done this before and while I know we're not going to be ready (who is ever ready for a tiny human!?) I want to be as ready as I can be. And it's getting really, really close to crunch time. Even if Haven comes on his due date, we're about 3 weeks out. Family history hints that we may not make it to his due date. In fact, family history hints that we may be looking at having a baby in about a week. And we're excited. We're just ridiculously excited. And thusly incredibly, incredibly distracted. 

We're already at the point of no return. If I go into labor while writing this, the medical professionals will not stop my labor. Which means that every kick and twinge is being over analyzed by my mommy brain. And considering how incredibly active our unborn son is, that takes up most of my daily brain power. 

So please, please feel free to butt in and tell me about you. I really do want to hear. I still need you. And when you go through the same thing, when your baby brain kicks in, I'll understand. And bring you food. And really, really try to not pester you with advice and just let you talk.