You have heard me say many times that life changes when you have kids. No matter how hard you try to hold on to your past, your future will always seem to get in the way.  Your new life will be filled with much more purpose and it will most certainly give you a new perspective; however you need to be prepared to let a few things go.  Some of the hardest things to part ways with are listed below:

• Friends:  I have lost a few friends after having kids. In the end they expected way more of my time and attention than I was able to give.  I couldn’t balance keeping up with their lives and mine and unfortunately that wasn’t good enough. Other relationships have ceased because my idea of hanging out now entails day activities verses night activities. As much as I would love to go chug a few cocktails until the wee hours of the morning, I still have to wake up and be Mom at 7 am. Playing Mom with a hangover is pure torture. Lesson I have learned so far: To have a friend you have to be a friend, so try to reconnect as often as you can with those friends who do still make an effort to be a part of your life.

• Money:  Makin’ it rain is a thing of the past. News flash: kids are expensive!  This is always a surprise to new parents.  You might think you have an idea of what it costs to raise a child.  Think again and while you’re at it – add a few more zeros. I remember experiencing sticker shock many times when we first had our son.  Daycare, schooling, diapers, formula, clothing, insurance and activities add up real quick. All of those weekend trips, dinners, nights on the town with friends, spa treatments – go ahead and kiss them goodbye.  Even when you do have the extra money, the guilt stops you from proceeding because you know the money could be better spent on your kids. Damn parenting guilt will get you every time! I pray every night my kid will be a pop star or a professional athlete one day so he can pay me back after he bankrupts me.  My advice: do your research so you don’t feel blind-sided, but also know you will always find a way to make it work.

• Your Body:  Remember that bikini body you once had? You will spend the rest of your life chasing after it once you have kids.  I know I am not the only vain one around here. We are all critical of ourselves and even if you are able to get the weight off, you will over analyze every mark on your body post-baby.  Your body changes – get over it and learn to love your new one.  I’m still working on this so no profound advice here, sorry to disappoint you.

• Your Sleep:  All those naps I protested in Kindergarten – how do I submit a rebuttal? What I would give to take a two-hour nap every day. Sleep becomes a luxury once you have kids.  Even when your kids are sleeping, you can’t shut your mind off long enough to get the sleep you need. Your internal clock will never let you sleep in late again.  The only real uninterrupted sleep I get is when I have the Flu. Luckily Flu season is upon us!

• Your Heart and Mind:  Every decision you make moving forward will be centered around your kids. You lie awake worrying about how you can make their life better, if you are a good parent, if you washed their favorite Batman shirt for school in the morning and if they will love you forever.  They will melt your heart telling you how much they love you, and break your heart for doing something they know they shouldn’t on a daily basis.  There is no pain greater then the look of disappointment on their face when you can’t help them when they are sick or afford that toy they want. They truly own you which is a blessing and a curse all at the same time. Prepare yourself because I guarantee you are in for a ride. 

What are things you have noticed missing from your life once you had kids? What we have gained is for another post.

 

XO,

Holly

 

 

 

WARNING:

First time mom-to-be’s or those trying to get pregnant: DO NOT READ!  I don’t want to scare you. You’re welcome.

I am feeling a little betrayed these days because I tricked myself into having another baby.  First let me point out: I am obsessed with babies, it’s somewhat of a problem. I think they’re amazing and I would have ten if I were younger – and rich. What I am not obsessed with is baking them or pushing them out of my lady parts.

Following my last baby, I told my husband he would have to drug me to knock me up again. I hated every minute of pregnancy and when people told me I would miss it once it was over; I would violently laugh while portraying the world’s most disingenuous smile. Noticing my distain they would often follow up with,”Trust me. God made us so we would forget the pain or we definitely wouldn’t do it again.”  I would listen nicely but ultimately tucked the information away in my I’ll  believe it when I see it section of my brain.

About a year after my son was born, those words of wisdom started to see some truth. I would see a pregnant woman and reminisce about feeling the baby move and the anticipation of meeting them.  When I saw a newborn I certainly urned for one, not remembering the slightest bit of torture I experienced during the birth of my own. By year two, I was begging my husband to give me a baby and tracking my ovulation cycle diligently on my iPhone. Once we became pregnant, all I could remember was the moment I saw my son the first time and the joy he has brought me every day since then.  I felt truly blessed to get to experience it all…again.

I still feel blessed and can hardly wait to hold my baby; however, all those painful, disgusting, annoying memories about giving birth have come back to me….with a vengeance.  I am officially terrified! I had what most would consider a very by-the-book delivery, yet lately I can only remember all the awful things I had to endure. I am starting to have nightmares conjuring up every what-if story my brain can process, and trust me when I say even Stephen King would be proud.

I further torture myself by reading every headline I see about dramatic births.  I remember doing this to myself right before I gave birth last time but when my water finally broke a calm came over me.  It wasn’t until that moment I knew I could do it.  I know I can do it again, it is just the what-if’s that are sending me into a downward spiral. What if I go into labor and my husband can’t get there in time?  What if I have the baby in the car or a taxi?  What if labor goes too fast and I can’t get an epidural?  What if he comes early? What if my vagina breaks? What if he is an alien?  You name it, I have thought about it.

WTF is my problem? Am I a masochist?  Why am I doing this to myself?  Why am I remembering this now when I don’t have a choice in the matter?  News Flash Holly: This baby is coming with or without your participation. I decided to make a list of the all the things I hated about labor that have kept me up at night.  I hope by sharing them it will help me come to terms with the inevitable and render any support from you.  It is okay if you call me a psycho, I will not be offended.

Things I hate about having a baby:

• The IV:  I HATE IV’s.  The one they use during labor is a larger gauge in case you need an emergency blood transfusion. Awesome.  Plus, during labor you sweat like a whore in church and the tape keeps coming off leaving the IV to wiggle around.  This gives me the creeps. You already have a ton of wires connected to you and people are always bumping them.  This was the only time I yelled at my husband.  I told him if he touched or tripped over my wires again, I was divorcing him. I was serious.

• Contractions:  My contractions coupled.  This means they would spike, only to come down half way before spiking again.  This happened two or three times before they would go away completely.  You can feel them coming on like a freight train and there is nothing you can do about it – not good for control freaks. Contractions literally feel like someone is crushing your pelvis. No matter your tolerance of pain, these suck.. bad.

• Epidural: The epidural is amazing however the thought of it going into my spine freaks me out.

• Catheter:  After the epidural you have to get a catheter.  No explanation needed, it just sucks.

• Birth: It’s humiliating.  Luckily it is overshadowed by the joy of your baby – so this I can live with again.

• Epidural tape: This tape holds the epidural in place and covers your ENTIRE back.  They also spray on an adhesive to help it stick even more.  Taking it off is a b*tch!  Imagine the world’s largest band aid with super power stickiness.

• Bleeding:  You bleed… a lot. After raiding the hospital supply of underwear and cleaning myself up the nurse would inevitably come in, put all her weight on my stomach, and pull a WWE move to release any blood. This is disgusting and it hurts.

• The hospital team:  They are amazing, but they deal with chicks like you every day.  I can only imagine how many times they are asked, “Does it hurt?”  I felt bad whining or complaining because I wanted them to like me and give me more attention. My plan worked but I had to act like a rockstar, when in reality I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs.

This is all I can think of right now. For the record and as all of you as my witness:  This is the LAST time I am doing this. Baby maker is officially retiring.

Your crazy friend,

Holly

 

 

 

 

Now that I have succumbed to the reality of having two boys, my thoughts are now starting to evolve into ways to keep those little a-holes out of the ER.  We all know boys are Tasmanian Devils that apparently don’t hear what their parents say unless it involves ice cream or boobs.  Their ability to listen is most certainly selective, because screaming their names or saying no doesn’t seem to resonate.

Being the helicopter mom that I currently am, I know this helicopter is in for a crash landing. There is no way I can maintain my lunatic-self with two boys OR the future emergency room patient – will be me.

I have two older brothers and have heard the horror stories from their childhoods and witness many of these stories myself.   Yes, in hindsight the stories seem funny, but I am sure my parents were not laughing when they stamped their Frequent Rewards Card at the ER every week when those two were little.  You name it; they had it happen to them. One brother broke his chin trying to boobie-trap the other one. Who the hell breaks their chin? The other brother broke both of his wrists while trying to do a flip out of a swing.  The poor guy had to wear casts, which were held up with rods attached to a belt around his waist.  Know what this meant?  My mom had to help him pee, shower, eat, etc. He was in Junior High school at the time.  I’m sure having your mom help you pee at that age was humiliating. For the record: I am not holding either of my son’s man parts if their dumb a** breaks their wrists. Take note boys.

Now, I had my fair share of doing stupid sh*t.  I was a definitely a tomboy who didn’t have fear of much.  For example: once while on my way to work at my lifeguard job, I got a flat tire.  No biggie – right?  Wrong. Obviously, I don’t know how nor am strong enough to change a tire, so I pulled over on the left hand side of the road.  Yes, left side. Way to go brainiac! I then proceeded to walk down Interstate 35 in a bathing suit, all the while hitchhiking to get a ride to a phone.  Now this was, of course, before cell phones if you can even imagine that. I finally caught a ride with an 80-year-old couple that I first asked, “Promise you aren’t going to kill me?  It’s hot and I can’t walk anymore.”  They replied with a resounding, and almost defensive, “No, we aren’t going to hurt you!” And continued with, “You really shouldn’t be walking down the highway in a bathing suit.”  No sh*t Sherlock. Thanks for the words of wisdom.

Either way my stupidity didn’t land me in the ER (knock on wood), or on a black market in some foreign country, so that was a plus.   Point being: I know my boys will make stupid choices, it’s all part of being a kid and learning. However, if those choices involve blood; I’ll be the mom passed out in the corner with a hand full of rosary beads, praying it’s only stiches or casts. Wish me luck.

Remember that intoxicating smell of a newborn that set your ovaries into overdrive?  Even holding a baby that isn’t yours will have your baby maker screaming for one of it’s own.  They smell of new life, hope and innocence.

I miss that smell. That lovely smell has turned into a smell that I like to compare to a rotten carcass.  A little harsh? No, have you smelled my son?  Next you may ask, “Do you give him a bath?” Yes, I do bathe him often.  Yes, he also brushes his teeth twice a day.

To be honest with you, I am convinced there is a secret society at his school which makes it mandatory to run around as much as possible, while trekking through sewage pools.  Every day I pick him up he is doused in sweat, has dirt under his nails, and painted arms compliments of Crayola markers.  Once we get home and remove his shoes: HOLD your noses people because your nostrils just may burn off. It’s worse than a teenaged boy’s locker room.

I scrub his his feet every night, why do they smell like rotten cheese and vinegar? We are going to go broke buying new shoes every few months! We have even put powder in his shoes to no avail. Once in the airport he was telling everyone at the gate, “Momma says I have stinky feet.” Not too many found it funny.  I, of course, thought it was hilarious.

At one point I was afraid he might be the smelly kid at school, but not the case.  All those little petri dishes (a.k.a. his friends in class), have the same problem according to their parents.

When he is at home on the weekends with us, the smell-o-meter definitely drops significantly.  Maybe I should start sending him to school in a bubble.  Either way, I guess this is preparing me for when he is a teen and smells even worse. God help me, and my nose.