Things I've learned from both pregnancies

Missed me? ;)

Honestly, I feel terrible for not documenting this pregnancy much. But frankly, there's not a whole lot to really document. Everything has been pretty smooth sailing other than some pregnancy induced RLS and some heartburn. Other than that, it's been pretty uneventful (not that I'm complaining!).

Life has been a whirlwind lately. Brad has started a new side job/hobby that's bringing in a bit of extra cash, and I've been working like a crazy woman with photography gigs. Not to the point where I'm overdoing it, but definitely enough to keep me busy.

Anyway, in an effort to document something... and to empty out my brain a bit... I thought I'd list out some things I've learned from both my pregnancies so far. Yeah, some people don't like lists, but whatever. The school nerd in me, who actually enjoyed outlining papers, prefers a list sometimes.

Things I Learned from Two Pregnancies:

1. Each pregnancy (and subsequently, kid) is different. If I'd decided whether or not to have more kids solely based on my pregnancy experience with Noah? Yeah, he'd probably be an only child. I gained a ghastly amount of weight with him (at the end, it was over 60 lbs). So far, I think I'm around 25 lbs with this one... and I'm 7 months. So normal weight gain, minimal swelling, and still have energy (despite not sleeping well sometimes).

2. Throw out the scale. That bathroom demon was actually gone before I got pregnant this time around. We have a new scale, but I refuse to step on it. I remember how depressed I got watching the numbers go up when pregnant with Noah, and I would beat myself up for not keeping my weight under control. This time, I only see my weight if I decide to look down at the OB office. Otherwise, I figure they'll let me know if they're worried. As long as I'm feeling good, eating well, and staying as active as I can with a growing belly? There's not much else I can control.

3. Be prepared. And by this, I don't mean it's imperative that the nursery be perfect by D-Day. I mean, get your necessary crap together. Buy a nursing bra (didn't do that with Noah, and it sucked). If you want a cute "going home" outfit for the baby, figure it out before you hit that 40 week mark. Do your research on breastfeeding if you want to give it a go. It didn't work well for me with Noah, and I think it had a lot to do with the fact that I was so sick during and after delivery. My blood pressure was dangerously high for a good 2-3 weeks after delivery. I also didn't know what I should be eating, drinking, wearing, etc. The lactation consultant at the hospital was terrible. So yeah, I'm giving it another go. If it doesn't work out again, I refuse to panic or beat myself up about it. But I do feel like I'm better informed/prepared this time around.

4. This may make me a shallow person, but it's really important to me to feel pretty (or at least almost human). I swear maternity clothes make me look a good 15-20 lbs heavier than I actually am. I'm wearing a lot of light, open blouses with regular tank tops underneath (just in a larger size). I could live in  my maxi skirts, and I only have like two pair of maternity pants I'm willing to wear. At the hospital, I'm also refusing to feel so frumptastic. Last time... again with the sick excuse... I was stuck in that awful hospital gown for 3 days before they finally unhooked me from all the machines and let me take a shower. I felt so terrible, I didn't care what I looked like. I mean, I sort of did, but figured it was a lost cause. I used the hospital soap, wore oversized sweats, and went home wearing the hospital "underwear"... if you've used them, you know that's a very loose term. This time around, I'm buying myself some travel sized Bath and Body Works stuff to take with me. I'll still take maternity clothes, but the cute/comfy stuff. All of this may make me shallow, but honestly, the littlest things make such a difference for my mood. Even if I just smell nice, I instantly feel so much better.

5. Other kids keep you from gaining a ton of weight. I swear I'm so busy with Noah that I'll have days where I know I probably didn't eat enough calories. Of course, I'll also have days where I would love nothing more than to completely raid the Krispy Kreme and steal all their glazed doughnuts. Because Brad has been so busy with work related stuff, getting decent workouts in with Noah has been tough. But I'll get on the trampoline with him and walk around in circles. It's a great leg workout, and there's no risk of falling since it has a net around it. Plus Noah doesn't care if I'm not actually jumping. He's just happy I'm there.

6. Having another of the same gender has allowed me to shop for more fun stuff. :) I think everyone and their mother gave me onesies at Noah's baby showers. Nothing fancy, just your basic Carters type stuff. So that's covered. Now I get to shop for adorable outfits that frankly serve zero purpose other than just looking cute.

7. It's fun to keep the baby's name a secret. We told people what we're having, but we've decided to hold off on sharing the name. I love hearing all of the guesses. Brad's coworkers are starting to place bets on it. lol.

8. Labor isn't any less scary this time around. Even though I'm excited to meet him, there's still that looming, "I have to do that again..." Yes, I have a better idea of what to expect, which helps. The good part is that, since this is my second, people aren't telling me their horror stories this time around.

9. Having an awesome support system is... well, awesome. Our buddy Chase will be staying at our house with Noah, with some of my family coming in to help him during the day. After I come home, my parents have already agreed to take Noah out for me once a week. My dad has already claimed Tuesday evenings. lol. This way, Noah gets out of the house, and I get some one-on-one bonding time with the new little guy. And since I'm homeschooling, this will most likely continue. We're making this a family affair... everyone gets to contribute to his education, even if it's little things like writing words in the sandbox at my dad's or my mom taking him to the local kids' museum.

10. It is what it is. I'm refusing to stress. Noah's birth (actually, just Noah in general) taught me that things don't always go according to plan. In the end, as long as I have a healthy baby boy to hold, I'm good. ;)

time

I swear these blog breaks aren't intentional. I mean, I guess they sort of are, but it has nothing to do with blogging itself. I actually have several posts half-written.

See, the thing is? I've been working on myself a little bit lately. And one of the things I've been working on is... as my favorite 4th grade teacher would put it... "using my time wisely". I've realized that everything I spend time on, that we all spend time on, can be justified. Blogging? "I need to document my family's life so these moments aren't lost forever." Watching TV/playing Candy Crush/catching up on FB? "I need the mental break or I'll go crazy." See how that goes? All decent excuses... but it's still going to take up time.

Just about every one of us complains that "we don't have enough time" to do certain things. But all of us get the same amount. We all get 24 hours in a day. It's what we choose to do (or have to do) with that 24 hours that makes a difference.
So I've shifted priorities a bit. Not because I think blogging is a waste of time, but because I have a crap ton of other things that need to be done first. If I find myself with a few extra minutes of time during the day, and all that other stuff is done? (HAHA) Then I'll blog. But lately, I'm getting to the end of the day, and I decide I'd rather watch New Girl. Or go to bed early, because I'm freaking exhausted.

This time of year always gets insanely busy, for everyone I think. Target is gearing up for Black Friday, which of course takes up Brad's time. And people want their pictures taken for Christmas cards, so my photography biz has picked up. I'm already planning for next year, business-wise, and the many changes going on there (which frankly has me both nervous and excited). Noah is ready to be potty-trained, we have therapies to go to, morning/evening classes at church started back, my kid is a pro at trashing the house, and throw in the regular fun Fall stuff... it's a lot.

But the funny part? EVERYONE and their dog suddenly wants to get together. It's kind of becoming comical. And I don't mean my regular friends. I mean like one of my childhood friends' mom messaged me wanting to get together. I adore the woman and would LOVE to catch up, but it makes you wonder where these people were 6 weeks ago?

Anyway. That's what's going on in my head right now.
I literally just brain dumped on the page. There was no plan for this post. I just sat down and let the words fly. Or flow. Probably fly, since this will most likely have zero flow to it.

 

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blog therapy (alternate title: who is THIS kid?!)

Most of the stories and pictures I share about Noah are happy ones. And to be honest, there really are a lot of these kinds of days...

Days where he's happy, smiley, and oozes sweetness. He's always been sweet. Aside from those first couple months of colic, he was all smiles, coos, and giggles 99% of the time.

 

 

Friday was not one of those days though.

Things went from bad to worse, starting with what was supposed to be a fun family outing. We went to pick out new shoes for me (I realized I hadn't gotten new running shoes since Christmas, and that may be why my knee and big toe have been hurting like crazy). I already knew it would be testing Noah taking him there, so I tried to make a decision as quickly as possible. Brad did really well watching Noah. Unfortunately, Noah didn't understand why he couldn't run up and down the aisles like he used to when he was a lot smaller. Brad would tell him "no", and I could hear the whining, followed by a dead-weight Noah falling to the floor. People look, we ignore them, and Noah can't figure out why we're being mean.

 

There's a pet store near the shoe store, so I tried to remedy the situation by letting him look at the animals... especially the fish. Dude loves fish. Figures he'd love the least social animal in there. lol.

 

Anyway, Noah was already annoyed with Brad. So when Brad told him not to touch the water, Noah turned around and told Brad to go away. He kept waving his arm for Brad to go away until Brad disappeared down an aisle. I happened to think it was hilarious.

We stayed there for a good half hour, just watching all of the fish. When we decided it was time to go, Noah wasn't having it. Cue lots of fussing and dead weight again. Brad had to carry him out like a football. The kid is a good 45 lbs at least. And tall.

 

We had to go to the grocery store, which I should've known would be a mistake since it wasn't Target (where his Starbucks barista girlfriend saves him some pumpkin bread). He was hungry (even after two freebie cookies) and spotted his favorite... Lays potato chips. He zeroes in on those bright yellow bags. I got him the snack size, and we tried to ring it up at the self checkout... which of course wasn't working. I told him to "wait", which is his least favorite word ever. Cue whining and fussing again. Finally, we got him his chips, and things got better. Except that our nerves were wearing thin and we still didn't know what to do for dinner.

 

I asked Brad what he wanted, and he informed me that he was driving to McD's, whether I approved or not. haha. Again, I tried to compensate for a crappy day, so I asked Brad to order Noah a vanilla cone. I handed it to Noah, and he proceeded to just hold it. Didn't eat it. Just let it sit there and melt in his hand. So I reached back to grab it from him, just to lick around it so it wouldn't melt all over his hands. He didn't want to give it up, even though he wasn't eating it. So when I went to grab it, he squeezed the bottom, causing it to break in half. So here I was holding a melting top to an ice cream cone.

 

We made it home in piece (albeit sticky).

 

Me, being ever the optimist, decided we needed to take a time out. Go for a walk. We put Noah in his wagon and walked around the neighborhood. It's part of our little summer evening routine, and it never fails to lift our moods. It really was a nice break.

 

Until we got home. Brad went to get something out of his car. Noah was with him. Noah proceeded to shut his fingers in the door. Kid was screaming.

 

Thankfully, because Noah was the one that shut it, it wasn't a hard shut. His fingers aren't even bruised, but I know it hurt.

 

The pain made him angry. Brad was trying to put ice on it, while I attempted to comfort him. Because that's what moms do. Every time we said, "It's okay", he only escalated. As if to say, "What the flip are you talking about, it's most definitely NOT OKAY!"  I tried doing the deep pressure occupational therapy techniques to help him calm down. It usually works, and that's what we're supposed to do. Well, Noah wasn't having it.

He hauled off and smacked me.

 

My sweet, happy, smiley baby boy... who until this week hasn't hit anyone ever... hit me.

 

That did it. I couldn't take any more. I broke down into sobs.

I can put up with a lot. A lot a lot. I can handle my kid never calling me "Momma". Ever. I can handle the fact that he doesn't really have friends (nor does he care). I can handle that I'm still having to change my very large 4 yr old's diapers that he's outgrowing. I can handle that I'm constantly making two meals for dinner, because he's such a picky eater. I can handle that my son can't tell me what he's thinking or feeling. What he understands and what he doesn't. I can handle the onslaught of opinions about how to parent and help my son. I can handle running him around to therapy after therapy, in hopes that one day all of this will add up and result in a high-functioning ASD person. I can even handle tantrums... they really don't bother me that much, because I refuse to indulge them.

 

But having my naturally tender-hearted boy, who I do so freaking much for, turn around and smack me when I'm trying to comfort him? Yeah, that was too much. I can't handle that.

 

Frankly, I think it's okay to admit when something is too much. Parenting a special needs kid requires putting on a brave face every day. Not letting the struggles dig their way into your heart and make you resentful. Allowing God to step in and give you the strength to deal with all of the extras that come along with this particular call in life.

I totally understand why he hit me. It had nothing to do with me in particular. His fingers hurt, it made him mad, and this was his only way to communicate his anger and frustration. It made him feel better to lash out.

 

I adore my baby. Our days are almost always good. This is just a blip compared to the big picture. But sometimes it helps to write it out. Get some blog therapy. In my case, I had to get it out, so I can move on and celebrate my baby's birthday this week.

 

Here's hoping for a few days of no tantrums and lots of fun. :)

 

some realizations

I hit a Jaguar the other day. It was just a little fender bender, so we're all okay. I've only been in two minor accidents, and the other was back in college with a BMW. What made the whole scenario even better was that the guy kept telling me how much his car costs. Apparently, I just have great taste. Go big or go home.

via



***

Parents have to deal with onslaughts of opinions all of the time. Usually from random friends that aren't in their daily lives or, even better, complete strangers. So take all those opinions about your typical kid that you've heard over the years and multiply it by like 5000. That's life as a parent with a special needs kid. Especially with autism, which can be kind of vague considering how wide the spectrum is. People don't get that each kid with autism is different. I get messages and comments all the time recommending such-and-such because it "cured" so-and-so of his particular form of autism. Those are the days when it's tempting to delete my Facebook account. :)

***

I've decided I like being a "small" photographer. I have zero desire to be insanely popular or highly sought after. Kind of like with blogging. I like my own space. I like not having the crazy amounts of stress and pressure that come along with high-maintenance clients. I'm blessed in that I don't have to work in order for us to survive. And because of that, I can focus the majority of my energy on Noah. My time with my family is precious to me, and if I feel like a job isn't going to be worth it? I won't take it. I like having that freedom. I don't ever want the joy that photography brings me to be overshadowed by the stress that usually comes with the business side. I want to continue to learn and grow, but have it be on my terms. I want to continue to document my own kid's life in beautiful pictures instead of only documenting others.
And like with above, there are a lot of voices that I've had to learn to ignore in the industry. I've had to take a break and think about what I want out of this. What works for me. And right now, for this stage in my life? I want to keep it small.

Don't get me wrong though. Small doesn't equal inferior. I want to be good. Really good. But "good" and "popular" don't always have to coincide. I don't measure my success by the way the rest of the world looks at it. I don't need to book 50 weddings a year or travel the country in order to consider myself a good photographer. If that's how others are measuring the success of their business, that's totally cool. Nothing wrong with that. That's just not my prerogative. My biggest success is sitting next to me watching Bob the Builder.

***

I'm ready for a new week.
One where I don't get in any car accidents, accidentally screw up, get PMS-y, be given guilt trips about my kid, and slack off on working out. And maybe one with a couple of sunny days?

Happier posts coming soon.
Just needed to let my heart breathe a little.

judgemental honesty

My bud Jess did a post yesterday, admitting to things she judges others for... including posting nakey toddler heineys on instagram, of which I've been guilty of recently (at least I don't post on FB... who knows what kind of creeps would see them then, haha). And she has a point. Even though in an ideal world, judgmental thoughts wouldn't exist... we're human and can't help it sometimes. Anyway, it actually looked kind of fun. So here are mine:

1. Toddler pageantry. I think it's creepy and weird. No 3 year old should be made to look (and act) like she's 18. I'm sure there are decent pageants out there that aren't all Toddlers and Tiaras'-ish, but I just feel like there are so many other extracurricular activities that would be much better than teaching your daughter that her main value is in her looks and how well she can walk in heels. Don't girls have enough to deal with as it is? Why add to the list of reasons she'll need therapy later in life?

2. Moms who feed their babies soda. Do I really need to elaborate?

3. Certain types of girls who change their FB profile pic 23502349508 times a day, all slightly seductive selfies and all looking exactly the same. Dude. Vain much? You probably think this post is about you, don't you, don't you? (<-- 3 brownie points for anyone who gets that).

4. Know-it-all's. I judge them for having the incessant need to correct everyone and make sure they look smart/superior. Actually, this one leaves me torn. Part of me feels sorry for them for having such obvious insecurity issues, but it also makes me wish that they sleep in a bed of Legos.

5. Parents who take their kids to the park or some other family based activity type place and spend 99% of the time on their phone... either playing on it or talking on it... especially when their kid asks them to push them on the swing or play with them. I get that some parents just need a break and hope this will entertain them for 5 minutes. But going on and on and on to your girlfriend about your ex that's a big liar and just got out of jail? Yeah, let's save that for another time...

6. I judge the Olsen twins for starting the duck face trend. They're super cute, but man, that one was a real disservice to the online community and the general population.

Anything you care to admit to judging others for? ;)