Living in Chaos

I'm by no means the worlds most orderly person.  There's always dishes to be done, toys on the floor and unfolded laundry sitting in a pile. My house is generally messy, but rarely dirty.  Living in organized chaos is acceptable.

The status of my house and life now, mid cross country move, is making me look at online Canadian Pharmacies for Xanax.  (Not really, government, please don't come after me.  I'm actually coping by drinking bourbon and taking lavender baths). 

This was new 3 weeks ago

                                                               
The first issue is the status of the house.  The relocation plan actually requires the movers to pack for us.  That sounds easy but it brings a unique set of challenges.  Before Brett even applied for this new job we had made the decision to try and get out of this house.  We had already started painting, purging and packing stuff in storage to make staging the house for sale easier.  For insurance reasons the movers will now have to unpack then repack those boxes.

That gets difficult as we make improvements to the house so we can sell/rent it.  As we paint rooms and make minor repairs, stuff that we won't need just gets shuffled around.  Walking through our tiny house is hazardous.  There's a piano in my dining room. "Where the hell is my (insert essential item for living here)" gets said daily.

That's minor compared to my biggest stress: We don't know where we are moving and we don't know when it's going to happen. It's May 5th.  We gave the movers a window between May 15 and May 20th but they haven't given us a set date yet. I can't make plans to clean the house and carpets, put the house on the market (there's no point in trying to sell it when our crap is everywhere) and plan for final goodbyes until I know when the movers are coming.

That's all well and good since when they do come, I can't tell them where they are supposed to deliver our stuff.  I COULD BE MOVING ACROSS THE COUNTRY IN 10 DAYS AND YET I STILL DON'T HAVE A PLACE TO LIVE!!!!

Oy.

Much of this is our own fault, which I'll admit, but I'm still stressing!  Unless the St. Joseph's buried in our yard takes pity on us, our house will never sell.  Therefore, we will be renting for awhile in Ohio, which is great as it gives us the flexibility to explore Cincinnati neighborhoods before settling.

Help us out, dude. 

After 8 years in the suburbs, we're trying to find a place in the hip, walkable, more urban parts of the city. Unfortunately, so is everyone else.  Home rentals, especially affordable ones, in those areas go quick and we're finding places get snapped up before they can get listed online. Brett's heading up next weekend to get a better handle on the situation.

So for a few months, it looks like we will be in temporary housing in the 'burbs.  That's dandy except it means moving twice in a short amount of time.  Again, since our relocation package is pretty great, we have 90 days in which the movers will store our stuff and then bring it to what will hopefully be our home for at least a year. I'm trying to figure out a way to determine the essentials needs for 3 months and then organize it so the movers know what's temp housing and what's storage.

It's all a good stress. Living more simply will be good for us. I'm truly excited about this move. But it's terrifying. And frustrating.  And my sanity is tested.  I'm trying to remain calm for Max because even at 3, he's an empath and he takes on everyone's stress. We will get through this.  Many people have made this move without the luxury of a Cadillac relocation plan and the flexibility of friends and family willing to help.  This will all be over soon.

However, if anyone knows a good colorist in Cincy, send me their name. My grey hairs are really starting to sprout.

The Midwestern Mothership is calling us home.

Until six weeks ago, I only knew the following things about Cincinnati.

1) My husband went to college at University of Cincinnati

2) Their idea of "chili" is gross.

3) Chad Ochocinco once played for the Bengals.

4) The Cincinnati airport is actually in Kentucky.

5) I can't spell Cincinnati without spell check.

That's it.  Five things.  Cincinnati was just a blip on my radar. I had nothing against it. I just didn't  know anything about the Queen City.  Now, I'm going to learn a heck more about it, as it's about to be my new home.

There was a point in my life where I just assumed Savannah would be my home for the rest of my life. It was here I got my first "real" job and car, met my husband, became a homeowner, had a child. It's where I've established all those "adult" things like dentists, primary care physicians and a hair stylist who squeezes you in her schedule because you tip well. It's here I met amazing friends who will stay my friends despite a move 681 miles north. It's here I learned that I'm not exactly the biggest fan of winter.

However, things changed. Friendships, jobs, priorities. Once Max was born, I started to feel the tug of the Midwest on my heart. I hated that he only gets to see his grandparents a few times a year and his aunts and uncles even less. I missed living in a larger city, with more opportunity for concerts, museums, professional sports and festivals. The rolling hills and soft grass of the Midwest became harder to leave behind after a visit home.

While the nitty gritty doesn't need to shared, a flood of things happened all at once, allowing us an opportunity to move to Cincinnati. While, my faith and spirituality has been tested as of recent, I feel this string of events was God's way of saying "It's okay.  This is the right step".

I'll miss Savannah with all my heart.  I'll be back frequently. There's a deep guilt and sadness that comes with saying goodbye to the ones we love. However, underneath the turmoil and panic that comes with a quick cross country move, I have a deep sense of peace.

This is what we were meant to do.

I'm baaaaaccckkk!

Ummmm....so.....hi?

Testing, Testing.

Anyone besides my Mom still around?

Who am I kidding?  Mom never read this. Still won't now that I'm back.

Maybe my mother-in-law will?  Hi Renee!

My last post was just under 2 years ago.  It was about pulling Max out of day care.  Since then we determined it wasn't day care making him sick rather a rare Periodic Fever Disorder that was fixed by a tonsillectomy. So....sorry for blaming you day care?  Not really. You still kinda sucked.

Max is now three! Three! Gah!  We've had two nannies in that time. Oh and I quit my job.  Hence the reason I'm here. Come May 2nd, I'll be a full time mom.  Just another thing I said I'd never do. So the blog title still fits.

Anyway, more posts to come.  I've got lots of cleaning up to do. Blogger is totally different so I have to re-learn everything. Tell me if you see a missing link or widget out of whack*.



*Widget out of Whack. That's a good band name. Feel free to steal it. 

Adios Day Care

This week I turned in Max's "two week notice" at his day care.  He's been there for almost a year and in that year he's been sick approximately 4839204830 times.  Tests have been run to check for immune deficinies but he's totally fine. He's just more susecptible to catching a bug than your average toddler.

About a month ago, I got another "Come get your sick kid right now" call while I was at work. He hadn't been over his last fever but a week.  I burst into tears as soon as I hung up the phone.  I hated seeing my poor guy suffer.  I hated that he flipped out instantly upon walking into the doctors office. I hated watching finger prick after blood draw after antibiotic shot.  The poor child was a human pin cushion. I also hated that I was constantly leaving work or calling in to take care of him.  My co-workers (all parents as well) are sympatheic but people can only cover my butt for so long.

I made an instant decision.  I was pulling him out of that day care. I didn't know what the next step would be.  Quit working and stay at home? Smaller day care? Find a Babysitter? Some other option?  We needed a change, and soon.

It wasn't just the frequent illness.  There were other reasons I wanted him out of that facility.  Nothing major and nothing I want to air on the internet, but I knew a better option was out there.  Finding something new was an idea Brett and I have been kicking around for awhile but now it was time to take action.

We reseachered other facilities. I picked the brains of friends who were stay at home moms. (For those who answered me, thank you so much for your honest responses.) We interviewed babysitters.  We took a close look at our finances.  (And by me I mean Brett. I'm numbers incompetent).

After a few tears, a lot of prayers and several more gray hairs, we offered the job to a babysitter and she starts in just over a week.

I'm still nervous about this decision.  I'm weirded out that someone will be in my house while I am not there.  What if she sees our dvd collection or DVR que, sees we have terrible taste and runs without notice? I no longer have some of the flexibility I did with day care.  Running late or changing my schedule isn't as easy.  What will I do to make sure Max gets socilization with other kids?

However, outside of less exposure to germs, there are other benefits.  Max naps longer and more frequently at home. He can sleep later too, since most mornings we wake him up to get ready.  The additional sleep alone will help him stay healthy.  For me, I will now have 50-60 minutes (round trip) of kid free commuting that won't involve a screaming toddler or Bob the Builder DVD's blaring behind me. Also, since I won't have to get him up and ready for the day, I get an extra 30 minutes of sleep!

So it's time for Max's next chapter.  Who knows how it will go?  It could be the best thing to happen to him. I could be frantically scrambling to find help in 2 weeks.  I could get fired, having someone else make the stay-at-home-mom decision for me. Whatever happens I just want to end up in what is the best situation for my son.

Wish me luck because I suck at change!

A First Birthday Letter- A Bit Belated

Dear Max,

You are one!  Ok, technically, at this point you are almost 15 months but you come from a long line of procrastinators.  Sorry.

So much as been going on since you came into my world on March 20th, 2010 at 2:36am.  I don’t remember much of it though because most of that time was spent in a sleepless haze.  You weren’t really big on the sleeping the first 11 months of your life. While you still won’t be winning any world records for your sleeping ability, I am now able to get regular doses of 8 hour nights.  Thank you.

I’ll be brutally honest.  The first year of your life was hard. It’s not that I didn’t love you.  Don’t ever doubt that for a second.  It’s just I was ill prepared to give up my cushy life of extra time, extra sleep and extra money. I was selfish and not ready to let go. Plus, I was in a deep post partum depression for the first chunk of that year.  With the help of you wonderful Dad, those days are past.

Despite that, there are still many wonderful memories of your first year.  The first time you smiled at me as I looked at you through the slats of your crib.  The first time you laughed when I picked you up and hoisted you into the air. The first time I watched you pull yourself up without any warning or previous attempts. In fact, for a lot of your firsts, you didn’t give us much warning.  You aren’t one for practice or trial runs.  You got from 0 to 60 in everything you do. You are a lot like your Dad in that respect. I will never forget the first time I went to wake you up from your nap and there you were, standing up like you’ve been doing it forever.

You’ve been lucky enough to take multiple trips in your first year.  You’ve been in an airplane more time your first year than I was at age 16.  You’ve been to Asheville , Chicago , Akron and Disney World (where you spiked 103 fever two hours after we entered the park). You’ve visited zoo’s, wildlife refuges, hotels and parks.  If I would let you, you would spend your entire day playing in the fountains in downtown Savannah .

And now, your time as a baby is over.  You are a full fledged toddler now and it’s an absolute joy to watch you.  You prefer to walk.  You have preferences, which you let us know about (usually very loudly).  You play games like “So Big” and you have more teeth than most professional hockey players. I love to watch you “read” books out loud and listen to you talk to yourself as you play with your toys or watch the world from your stroller.  Any day now I expect your first word. Given that you have to commute with me every day, I’m worried it’s going to be inappropriate.

You eat regular food now without any assistance and get annoyed when I tried to feed you softer foods like yogurt and oatmeal. You wouldn’t know what to do with a bottle any more and I was surprised at how easy you gave them up.  I wish I could say the same thing about your thumb. You are willing to try everything but if it was up to you, your diet would consist of nothing but graham crackers and cantaloupe.

I’m looking forward to the next year, Maxwell. There is so much out there your Dad and I want you to experience.  We have more trips to take, games to play and people to visit.  There are more hugs, kisses and cuddles to come.  Sure there are also more bumps, fevers, temper tantrums and longs nights ahead too.  But there is nothing that as a family, we can’t handle.

Thank you for all the good times and the bad.

Thank you for all the things I can’t find the words to say.

Thank you Max for letting me be your Mommy.

My not so triumphant return to blogging!

There are plenty of good reasons for my disappearance from the blogosphere.  Hubby is done with his Master’s program so we have more time to hang out.  Work is insane and I’m too drained to write a complete sentence at the end of the day.  I’m a little lazy.  I’m still training for a half marathon and my distances are getting longer and more time consuming. Max is now mobile and requires much more work simply to keep him injury free. (seriously dude, stop chewing on cords!).  I was burned out from trying to “keep up with the Jones’s of the blogging world”. And yadda and yadda and yadda.

I could go on explaining myself for multiple paragraphs but I realize that no one probably cares why I stopped.  But there have been multiple inquiries from friends and family as to when I plan to start writing again.  So I thought about it and to be honest, I miss writing. I miss connecting with other people trying to survive this crazy ride we call parenthood. I miss getting my thoughts out into the universe where other people can choose to agree, disagree, ignore, pick a fight or cheer me on.

So I’m blogging again but this time I’m not going to get wrapped up in outside factors.  I’m not going to worry about comments and commenting but instead focus on the important thing- creating a place where I go back and revisit memories of Max growing up once he’s not so little anymore. Maybe one day too he can look at this blog and see how much his Mama has loved him since day one.

And I leave you with this video, taken a few weeks ago.

See.  I have my hands full!

Embracing My Lovely Lady Lumps*

I'm hippy.  

Not a hippie (the smell of patcholi makes me sick) but rather hippy.  

As in, I have hips. Not just hips but curves. Lots of them.  Yes, I also have extra pounds creating those curves but even if I lost 100 lbs, I would never be some stick thin supermodel.  It's not in my blood.  If you look at the women on both sides of my family, you see that even those who could classified as thin still rock big boobs, a small waist and big hips.  We are a breed of curvy ladies with bodies designed for birthin' babies.  I have several thousand cousins.  We breed frequently. 

Even as I continue to lose weight, I keep a realistic body image.  I've struggled with it for years, but I finally accept and grown to love the fact that nothing about me will ever be flat. At a healthy weight I will still have round corners and wide hips.  That's ok.  

As a teenager and young adult, I had issues with my curves, especially my hips.  But as a mother, I'm really starting to embrace them. 

It's those wide hips that allowed me to have a 10lb 4 oz baby naturally. I try to look at stomach pooch not as a result of too many Oreos but rather as a beautiful war wound from a happy pregnancy.  

Today I appreciated my hips as they helped me balance a fussy, dirty baby, 4 bags and an iced latte into the Target bathroom.  Max perched securely on one hip while I fumbled with the changing table.   After the changing I used my hips to close the table back up, open the bathroom door and push a cart that was blocking the exit. Now that I seem to constantly have my hands full, my hips are working overtime to help me get through thte day. 

While I still, and may always have body issues, motherhood has helped me embrace my body and see that it's truly amazing.  Especially those hips.

*Sorry for the terrible Black Eyed Peas inspired title.  That damn song kept running through my head as I wrote this.