In the stillness of the evening

So I have an appointment set to discuss my issues with my Dr. I didn't really know what to say to the receptionist, so I just set up a physical. Perhaps I should have been more assertive, because my appointment isn't for two weeks. But, I also have lil' G's 15 month check-up this Friday, so maybe I'll piggy-back after all. I think I'll start with a request for a consult with a therapist, and then see how far she digs. I've been very antsy, anxious and moody lately, and this weekend JJ said that maybe I do need to talk to somebody, because he could tell something was up with me. As for meds, we'll see what they say. I'm open to it, but we'll see what the best course of action is. I'm pretty sure I'm somewhat of a hypochondriac, so of course I THINK I need something, but I will admit I'm not a medical professional. I'm just an enthusiast.

Lil' G is absolutely brightening my spirits, though. He's so much fun, every day I feel so lucky to be a mommy to such a wonderful, bright and cheery little soul. Sounds sappy, I know, but sometimes that's the way I roll. We're really thinking about having another, and I want to really badly, I think I just need to take care of myself a bit before I get knocked up again. I did find being pregnant very therapeutic, though. Something about not being able to indulge in all my vices that made me feel at ease. I really felt like I was fulfilling a greater purpose, which was exactly the case. Of course who knows what it will be like the second time around, but I have a feeling I'll still like being pregnant. Life will take the course it's meant to take, I suppose.

Work is extremely frustrating right now, luckily I have learned to compartmentalize. It's just not my main focus in life right now. It can't be. I feel guilty because everyone around me is a complete workaholic, they're attached to their laptops seemingly 24/7. My mom asked me if I miss traveling for work at all, to which I replied, "Not one little bit." The thought of being away from lil' G for more than a day makes me sad. I know I would manage just fine, but if it's not absolutely necessary, I'm not interested. JJ and I have discussed taking a little trip by ourselves, and while the thought is wonderful, I'm still plagued by the knowledge that I'd feel extremely guilty leaving him with somebody for a few days. I remember back to when my mom and dad would go on trips when I was younger and I'd miss them terribly and think horrible thoughts about them never coming back. (Yeah, I guess my anxiety issues stem WAY back!) Not that he'd think that at 14 months, but I know I'll always have that memory in the back of my mind when JJ and I take trips. Aaaah, and my family wonders why I don't go to mass anymore, Catholic guilt, you can take the girl out of the church, but it always finds a way to wiggle itself back into your psyche.

Well, JJ is away again. I thought perhaps writing a bit would help me wind down, but here it is 11 o'clock, and I'm completely wide awake. Thank goodness my little guy has not inherited this trait, because it's enough to have a sleep deprived and cranky mommy in the morning, I do NOT need a sleep deprived toddler! But I have dedicated myself to writing at least 3 entries a week here. Not for anyone else but myself. I've never been a good journal or diary keeper, but perhaps I can combine my love of mindless internet use and my need for thoughtless introspection. On that note, and upon reflection that this might be the most random of blog entries, I will say buenas noches.

Take this soul and make it sing

Oh, HELLO! Officially, I have failed at the blogging. I would make the excuse that I'm too busy, but please, how many crazy busy people still find time to put a few thoughts together on a daily (or more) basis. Perhaps I don't like writing. Maybe it's not that I don't LIKE writing, I just feel that I'm a poor writer. I'm perfectly able to write business proposals, contracts, white papers, um, emails(?) every single day, but make me put some personal thoughts and stories down and I freeze up.

So, that brings me to my real problem as of late... I'm now quite certain that I have some developing mental health issues. Anxiety is my problem de jour, perhaps with a bit of depression mixed in there. I'm planning on seeing our Family Practitioner soon to see if she can suggest a therapist and determine if meds are required, but I have to get up the nerve to make the appointment and set up child care. Often times I mention my issues in true piggyback fashion when I'm at lil' G's well child exams. I feel that I need to take the time to make my own appointment, so I don't have to concern myself with what my toddler is destroying. But hey, it might be a good opportunity for her to witness one of my anxiety attacks. At least I think they're anxiety attacks, I don't know, all I know is I don't feel 100% as of late, and I think it goes deeper than just missing J.J. He has been out of town a lot lately, and when he is I freak out about EVERYTHING. Every little noise in the house turns into somebody trying to break in and do harm to me and my little guy. When he's gone, sleep is extremely difficult, not that I get that much sleep when he is in town. Can you be an insomniac if, once you fall asleep, you could potentially sleep for days? That's just my problem, getting to sleep. I much prefer, apparently, to worry about every little thing in extreme detail. Only adding to my worry is my self-medication in the form of "just one glass of wine", which often turns into three or four. I don't think I have a drinking problem, but I think I'm drinking to cover up other problems. Is that the same thing? Again, that's why I need some professional help here.

My other concern is that, if I do need counseling, when in the fuck am I supposed to do it? As I've mentioned, with the marital unit gone 85% of the time, it's going to be very difficult to schedule any recurring appointments. I do have a couple of folks that could help with lil' G, but do I really want them to know that I've got to go to a counselor to take care of my potential craziness? I guess the first step is to see what can be done, what needs to be done. I really need to take this seriously, because I know it could potentially snowball into something big and out of control. I know it will be alright, I've just got to make this a priority.

Be a winner - eat to get slimmer

Quick round-up of things that have gone on in the past couple of weeks:

• I now officially have a one year old little boy. His party was a smashing success. Lots of friends and family, good food (if I do say so myself) and of course, the obligatory going ape-shit on the little first birthday cake. And WAYYYYYYY TOOOO MANYYYYY toys. JJ had the great idea of putting a few of his older toys away so we can bring them out later (after he's over the newness of his new toys), and it will be like we just got back from Toys'r'Us with a cart full of goodness. Worked for me, less shit to pick up at the end of the day!
• My first mother's day as a mother of a child who wasn't still inside me. It was pretty awesome. JJ made my favorite salad, it's absolutely TO DIE FOR, with lots of veggies and this amazing anchovy vinaigrette. That's right, I LIKE anchovies!! Generally JJ took amazing care of me and lil' G, and a great day was had by all. I have to say, I love that husband of mine.
  
• My mama came to visit for the first birthday festivities, and we had a fantastic time. I'm so glad I grew the hell up, because my mom's pretty awesome and I totally didn't realize that until I was oh, about 24. Maturity has SOOOO many benefits.
• Lil' G has started walking again, and it's wonderful. He's practically walking the entire length of our living room again. I'm sure he'll be training for a marathon by the end of next week. Funny thing, though. When we're inside he goes absolutely mad and tears around the house like crazy. But once we go outside and I set him on the grass, he just sits there like he's paralyzed. He's happy, and he points at things and picks up twigs and whatever else he can find to play with, but he will.not.move.
  

In non-mommy related news (that's right, it's all about me!) I'm having some serious body issues right now. I've dealt for a long time with the whole self-loathing thing. I'm a recovering bulimic and my relationship with my external self has never been great. I was able to embrace my body while pregnant, I seriously LOVED myself when I was pregnant, and it was the first time in my life. However now I'm dealing with losing that extra 7 pounds from my baby weight.

I've never been good at dieting, that requires self-control, and although I can do many things, denying myself something delicious has never been a strong-point (which is probably a main reason why bulimia was my eating disorder of choice). As for exercise, I really do enjoy exercising once I get into a routine, but that's just the problem. I know that everybody complains they don't have time for exercise, but it's really true. I just can NOT get my lazy ass out of bed early enough to do things before work. I've tried, and failed every single time. I work from 8-2 and then pick up lil' G, and the boy will simply not let me work out for any lengthy amount of time. JJ usually isn't home until quite late, sometimes after G has gone to bed, and usually by that time I need to fix dinner, or I'm just so exhausted it takes everything I have just to pick up toys and clean the kitchen. I'm trying to work in little things, and now that it's nice we're definitely working in lots of walks, but it's just not the same as my good old days as the Precor warrior. We bought a spinning bike and I love that, too, it's just getting the time to do it. We could join a gym with a daycare, but I feel like I've already wasted so much money on equipment at home that it's absolutely ridiculous to spend even more money on things when I've got perfectly good equipment and DVDs at home.

The problem is this, I signed G up for swimming lessons and I have to actually wear a swimming suit to participate. I got a two-piece with a skirt to cover SOME of my cottage cheese thighs, but I'm seriously having problems with the way I look in it. I know I'm not the worst looking thing in the world, and I'm definitely not incredibly overweight, it's just frustrating. I know that my body type will never allow me to be a size 2, heck, I've never, even in my deepest throws of bulimia, been able to get below a size 6, but I at least would like to feel as good as myself as I did when I was pregnant. It'll take baby steps, my metabolism is not what it used to be, and I think I just need to be diligent and things will happen. It's just that damned patience, I've never been too good at that, either. But I have to say, just venting about it here has made me feel better. I'll try, I'll work, but I will never allow myself to get back into the state I was in high school and college. My health is too important now, because I'm a mommy. DAMN IT! That whole mommy thing again, I guess it's just the most important role I've ever fulfilled. And I love it!

What happened to the beauty I had inside of me?

The cast is OFF! Lil' G is getting back to normal, he's still crawling a bit wonkity, but he's starting to realize he can use his right leg now, he doesn't HAVE to stick it out when he's crawling. No walking yet, but I'm sure he'll be doing it in no time.

I absolutely can NOT believe my little man is turning 1 next Friday. Where has the time gone? A year ago I was absolutely freaking out, completely ready to be a mother, and this year I'm just completely confused. How is this possible? How did my little precious squirmy wonderful ball of joy turn into this rough and tumble crazy little boy? How did the little being who depended on me for everything become the same little boy who shakes his head when I try and feed him green beans? He has actually self-weaned, because it's just so much easier to drink a bottle and run around than it is to sit still and concentrate on nursing. He's just got so much energy and independence. But he still likes to crawl into mama's lap every once in a while for a cuddle. Maybe not as often as I'd like, but I THINK he's still a mama's boy. Which is just fine by me, because I'm completely head over heels for this little kid.

I'm so fortunate to be able to celebrate my first mothers day. And so fortunate to have such a wonderful family.

Don't think - don't worry - everything's just fine

We're doing much better at Casa de Pooks nowadays. Little G has a new weight-bearing cast, so he can crawl as much as he wants (and believe me, it's a lot). He's even started pulling up to standing on it and cruising, although it's much more cumbersome.

The county did do an investigation of my daycare provider, after my doctor called it in. I completely understand, and appreciate her concerns. You've got to make sure in these situations. But everything was determined to be an accident. Of course you question these things as a mother, but I know that she loves my son. This could have happened at home, and JJ and I would have been under investigation.

Of course you know that these things are going to happen as a mother, but you never think they're going to happen so early in life. I know it won't be any easier when accidents happen in the future, but I know that I'll be able to handle it. Maybe not very WELL, but I'll handle it nonetheless.

If you twist and turn away

See that absolutely adorable, terrifically fantastic and wonderful boy there? That's my beautiful little man, he's almost 11 months old, he's starting to walk and talk and he's the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me. Today I had the most horrible day in my existence as a mother. Today my little man fractured his tibia. And my heart was subsequently torn from my chest, run over by a Mack truck and a steamroller, fried in three-day-old grease and served up next to a steaming hot pile of poop. Sorry, too graphic? That's the breaks, because that doesn't even adequately describe my emotions today.

He got hurt at daycare, after getting his leg stuck and rapidly thrashing back and forth to get it unstuck. My daycare provider quickly got him unstuck and since there were no bruises or swelling or any other visible signs of trauma, he was ok. She gave him a bottle to calm down and he dozed off and took a nap. When he woke up she gave him lunch just like always and then let him run around just like always. But something was not right (apparently she was channeling Ms. Clavel). When he tried to stand up he just started crying and wailing. Not good, right? That's what she thought and so she called me and told me what was up. I figured, oh, it's probably nothing, but I'll call my doctor's office anyway. They said, oh it's probably nothing, but come on in. Upon examination, my doctor said it doesn't look like anything, but let's do an x-ray. It was immediately obvious that something in fact was not right. A spiral fracture was pretty apparent, even to my lay-person eyes. And... I lost it. Tears just streamed down my face.

My doctor was very concerned that something other than an accident occurred. I freaked out more. My daycare provider has never been anything than wonderful and loving. But of course her concern made me question my gut feelings. My little G was fantastic, he cried when they put the splint on, of course, but luckily it was not displaced, so they didn't have to reduce it (i.e. set it). We then had to go to Children's Mercy to have the orthopedic surgeon review his x-rays and confirm my doctor's diagnosis. Again my doctor expressed her concerns, and said that they would be pretty aggressive with their questions regarding how it happened.

At the hospital, they did ask a few questions, but they didn't see any evidence of abuse. Let's be honest, a children's hospital in an urban location sadly knows abuse when they see it, and this was just an accident. There was no swelling or bruising. My concerns were quelled.

Now we're just relaxing at home. Little G had been crawling all over the place and starting to walk before the accident, and he's just trying to get accustomed to not being able to move on his own. And I'm wishing my doctor would have given me some Xanax, because my wine is really not helping me recover as easily as I'd wished.

Like Coming Home and You Don't Know Where You've Been

So... I guess I'm not a very effective blogger. Oh well... whatcha gonna do. Life's been rough, husband's been out of town for the last, like, 8 weeks straight, and I've just been my little Energizer bunny self. However he's in town this WHOLE week (LUXURY!)

Last night he got home BEFORE the little man was in bed, so I said, hey, I'm going to FINISH my workout that was disrupted when the little one woke from his nap, I'm going to let YOU feed him dinner, and then I'm going out to get a MUCH needed pedicure. And that's exactly what I did. And it was HEAVENLY!!!! Then... and this is the kicker, HE MADE DINNER. I was so excited. I didn't have to eat alone AND I didn't have to cook. I really enjoy cooking, but who doesn't enjoy having food cooked for them?

I got a visit last weekend from my mama, and that was an absolute blast. She basked in the maternal glow of seeing me and my bro, and thoroughly enjoyed spending time with all her grandkids. We did some major shopping, I got a much needed leisurely shopping-filled 3-day weekend. It's so great that I actually grew up and got a clue, I was honestly and truly an absolute horrible and terrible daughter for a good 7-10 years (aah, being a teenager and a know-it-all in my early 20s, what a wild ride that was). She gave me this cheesy candle holder one time that says, "Always a daughter now a friend". It's sappy but it's true, we really get along great together now and I honestly don't mind her daily phone calls (OK, I MOSTLY don't mind). All in all it was a fantastic trip and I didn't even mind getting up at 5:45 in a Sunday morning to take her to the airport. I was even chipper, and not because she was leaving, but because it was a great visit. I was sad to see her go, but happy that I have grown enough to appreciate her as the wonderful and strong, caring and loving woman she is.

Upcoming this week, husband's dad and brother are visiting. NOT as stressful, because honestly these dudes don't give a rat's ass if you haven't vacuumed your carpet in the last week. AND they both love to cook. So needless to say, it might just be another great weekend en casa de pooks.