Where have all my posts gone?

I have not been posting as much lately. This has partially been because I've been obscenely busy. But that's not the only reason.

Part of it? Is because I don't think I've found my voice. I think I've become somewhat intimidated by the writing of others. There are several people that I just *love* to read what they've written & I get all happy and excited whenever they post. I get all envious (in an appreciative way - not in a weird mean way) and wish that I could write like they do.

But I can't. Because it's not me. And those aren't my words.

I need to figure my voice out. I know that I am a good writer. I'm not amazing, but I know I'm good. It's just not readily apparent at the moment. And that is not working for me.

I don't want to be sad about it. I don't want to give up. But I don't want to be fluffy drivel, either. I see no purpose in that. I will never get better if I don't do it more.

Besides, it makes me feel too good when I do get it right to give it up.

Friday Flipoffs

Thanks to Kludgy Mom, even with all of her balls in the air, for creating/hosting this meme!

It's time for the Friday Flipoffs! As usual, in my paranoia that I do not tempt the universe with brazen flipoffs, I have a corresponding "Yay!" moment, too. Which is always nice. I like the weeks where I actually have those corresponding "Yay" moments.

To start....

My current gym. I wanted a little hole in the wall kind of place where I could just go in, work out, & leave without being harassed to buy anything, wait in a crowd to use machines, or be forced to buy years of memberships. When I joined? The guy said that sometimes he was the only one there & occasionally he'd have to close for a little while so he could eat lunch. I was fine with that. But. I tried to go from anywhere between 11:30 in the morning & 2:00 in the afternoon & the gym was closed far more often than it was open. I have finally had enough. I'm not going back. A big fat flip off! No pun intended.

My Yay! moment? Is that my aesthetician recommended a similar gym where she goes for personal training. It's a little further away, but $10 cheaper a month & has a 24-hour member-access system. So I'm going to visit next week & unless the guy is a total creeper, I'll join that gym & get back into the swing of things. So this week? Double bonus bikini wax! Thank you universe!

Flipoff #2 goes to the ridiculous toilet seats in my new office bathroom. They are ridiculously narrow & curve upward at the outside edges so they dig into your legs painfully when you try to sit. I just want to pee without injury or falling into the community bowl. Flip Off.

Flipoff #3 goes to the stupid push faucets in the same bathroom. The point of a faucet in a bathroom is to clean & sanitize your hands after fishing around in your crotch region for post elimination cleaning. If I push the button to turn on the water, I've just contaminated it with my fishing germs. Then? The water runs out before I've washed off all the soap. Thus forcing me to push the button again, recontaminating my hands. Not cool. And Flip Off...with a germy, crotch-fishing finger.

Flipoff #4 goes (lovingly) to my stepdaughter. I know you're capable of speaking without whining. Please attempt to exercise this ability. You do not come with a mute button and most people frown on the use of duct tape on children. Please, you are driving your father & me insane. We don't have much sanity to spare. Throw us a bone here & just *speak* to us. Trust me, we'll be amazed into rapt attention if you speak to us without whining. Flip Off.

That is all. I started this post this morning & due to work crises, have just now had time to finish. *sigh*

Perhaps I should've added "work crises" to my flipoffs...but I don't really want work to go away...Ok, technically, it's just the paycheck that I don't want to go away, but thus far I've not been able to figure out how to get the paycheck without the work...short of being a useless loaf & sucking off the state. But then I can't talk crap about my stepdaughter's mother without being a hypocrite. Ah, well. The sacrifices we make...

Happy Weekend! :)

I am Not Mozart

When I think of mediocrity? I immediately think of the movie Amadeus. If you have not seen it, it is essentially composer Antonio Salieri's lament of being a mediocrity compared to Mozart.

Salieri dreamed of nothing more than to be a great composer. He pledged his chastity to God in hopes that he would be blessed with an amazing musical talent. Yet it was Mozart, an irresponsible, overgrown child, who was blessed with the amazing gift of music.

I feel for Salieri. I do. I have dreamed many times of being amazing at something I love - writing, music, art, even psychology - but, like Salieri, I am apparently meant only to recognize and appreciate amazing talent when I see it. I'm not meant to possess the talent.

I don't think I'm as resentful as Salieri, but I didn't go & pledge my chastity for anything, either. If I had been chaste my whole life, I'd probably be a tad more grouchy about the whole situation.

Like Salieri, I'm not bad at most things I do. I'm usually pretty good. Pretty good. Not amazing. He was a court composer...but he was not a Mozart.

Musically? I can carry a tune, I can tell if I'm out of tune, I can occasionally harmonize. When I was a flautist (flute player. This one time at band camp....), I was always near 1st chair. Often 2nd or 3rd (out of like 30). But I was never 1st.

As a writer? I don't suck. Usually what I write makes sense, is spelled correctly, uses the right to/too/two or there/their/they're (altho, I did accidentally use the wrong "their" in a comment the other day & it is still bugging me because I can't go back & fix it....), and occasionally I'm even funny. But I'm mediocre, even at that. I don't make people laugh until they cry like Kris, or craft fabulously amusing posts with a rich vocabulary like Lori, or eloquently get to the heart of things with a sense of humor like Adrienne. I just don't have that gift. I'm readable, but not amazing.

For the most part, I can accept being adequate at a lot of things. I'm glad that when I do things? I almost never completely suck at it.

Not sucking is not the same as being good. No one is amazed at the brain surgeon who doesn't suck. Lots of people don't suck. There's really no "wow" to that.

Mostly I accept my mediocrity and I live with it. Usually it doesn't bug me. I am happy to just not suck.

But like any other unrequited passion? Sometimes the want gets to me.



This post is part of the Word Up, Yo! Weekly meme hosted by the Nerd Mafia Dons Liz at a belle, a bean, and a chicago dog; Kristin from Taming Insanity; and Natalie from Mommy of a Monster

My Birth Story

So, you want to know about my birth story, huh? Well, several people have already mentioned the possibility of a difficult pregnancy resulting in an easy birth.

Well, I had an easy pregnancy. No morning sickness. No real horrible mood swings. Nothing more than an achy back, an unbelievable craving for beer, and that last 6 weeks of beached whaledom.

There are things that I don't tell 1st time expectant mothers. One of those things? Is that the last month of pregnancy? Sucks ass. Everything is uncomfortable.

But I digress.

I was due on January 31st. I was wishing painful boils and other such unpleasantness on all people saying I would be 2 weeks overdue, sending me links to stories of 18 pound babies born in cars stuck on the freeway, and 90lb coworkers who felt the need to crank the heat all the way up in the office because they're cold. Wahhh. You can put on a sweater. I can't take off the pregnant.

Again, with the digression.

I left work on Wednesday the 25th, large, uncomfortable, and with a number of tasks that still needed to be completed on Thursday. At about 3:45 in the morning, I woke up and had to pee. Shock, I know. With my pregnancy, I often had contractions after I peed. Mostly because I held it too long, I think. I don't like peeing. And at 9 months pregnant? There are certain clean-up aspects of this task that get decidedly more difficult to accomplish.

I have issues staying on-topic apparently.

So, I head back to bed, all contracty. I have work in the morning & want to get back to sleep. After about an hour, I'm still all contracty. Hmm. Perhaps I should walk around & see if they go away. All the books say that if you walk & they go away it's not really labor. So, I begin pacing around my apartment at 4:45 in the morning. Contractions aren't really mellowing. Hmm. Perhaps I should pack my hospital bag while I'm pacing. At this point? I had about 2 comfortable outfits & I wasn't going to have 1 clean, comfy outfit wasting away in a hospital bag for weeks. Besides, labor lasts a long time, right? Plenty of time to pack the bag.

At about 5:30, I had to pee again. Or so I thought. Conveniently enough? My water broke while I was on the toilet. Yes! No mess for me to worry about.

At this point, I decided I'd better call my boyfriend. He lived across town about 25 minutes away. After about 3 calls, I finally managed to wake him up. I figured I had time to finish up my bag, get dressed, & grab a snack before he got there. I had nearly half an hour, right?

He made it there in 10 minutes.

The hospital was about 30 minutes away. And lordy, I had never noticed how bumpy the roads were between home & hospital until going over them while in labor. Ugh.

I had decided to try to go the natural birth route, altho I was not against drugs, should I change my mind. I've always had really bad cramps, so how much worse could labor be?

A whole hell of a lot worse, that's how much. When I got to the transitional phase? I did not even finish one contraction before the next would start. It was excruciating. They kept telling me to breathe & I couldn't. They asked me if I wanted an epidural.

HELL YES I WANT AN EPIDURAL!

And to this day? I still have a small shrine honoring the epidural dude.

I had to stay laying on my right side, because if I turned over, the baby's heart rate showed distress. So, by the time it was time to push? My right leg was a worthless slab of meat. No feeling, no control, nada.

Boo was face up, so I had to push for about an hour. He came out very coney. Thankfully his head returned to a normal shape by the next day.

From start to finish? My labor was about 10 hours. So I can't complain about duration. But the pain? Was God awful.

And if we ever have another baby? I'm packing the bag by 6 months and we're picking a hospital close by. If baby #1 came out in 10 hours (delayed an hour because of how Boo was facing), I can totally see myself being one of those "birth on the highway" stories....

The little stuff

As I go through life, I have realized that it is the little things that really make the moments in my life shine. Today is my homage to the little things that have perked me up lately.

The county fair yielded several of those little moments. This is the 2nd time we've taken them & it was a huge improvement over the 1st fair experience.

Kids Ooooohed and Ahhhhed over all the tractors & farm animals we made them look at. Apparently roosters? Are way more deserving of Oooohs and Ahhhhhs than bunnies. Who knew?

They cheered and clapped at the pig & duck races.

They happily sat for 20 minutes watching horses jump obstacles & picked out which horses they liked best.

Boo did not throw the "No! I'm Scared I Don't Want To!" flag milliseconds before landing in the saddle of the pony as he did a couple months ago & successfully navigated his very 1st pony ride.



We got $90 worth of rides out of the $40 wristbands purchase. Hub meticulously calculated how many ride tickets we would've used, had we instead chosen to use tickets, to ensure we got sufficient value from our wristband purchase.

And in those rides? Was Boo's first real deal ride. The Tornado! This was no baby ride!



We only had 2 real meltdowns in a whole day spent (in 2 parts) at the fair. I think parents will agree that for a whole-day outing with 2 kids, having only 2 meltdowns is quite the accomplishment.

We had 1 from Boo when we had to leave mid-afternoon to lunch & nap. The website had lied to us & said the rides would open at noon. They didn't open until 1 & that was too late to let napless kids start riding. Boo felt we had lied to him about the rides & was rather upset with us for making him take a food/nap break. Stupid food & sleep anyway. Hmph.

Our other meltdown came from Princess after she was chastised by a fair employee for bulldozing in front of like 5 kids in line for a slide. This initiated pouting, followed by full on meltdown...exacerbated by Boo repeatedly asking Hub & I why Princess got yelled at - even after we repeated explained to him what had happened. Apparently Boo's insensitive male gene is already fully functional. Sigh.

Then on Sunday morning? The coup de gras. Hub got up with the kids & let me sleep! How freakin awesome is that? The suckish thing is that my bladder was resembling an overfilled water balloon & that sorta distracted from my attempts to continue sleeping...but I could lay there with the non morning dog & vege for a while. When I got up? Kids had breakfast & milk & were quietly watching TV with Hub...who thought I definitely should've stayed in bed longer.

Boo has also been pooping (more often than once every 11 days) regularly in the BIG potty! This is a huge deal in our house. Boo has been very anal retentive...perhaps the literal retentiveness will lead to obsessive detail orientation later in life. Hopefully not in a Monk-like way though.

Oh! Oh! And the other thing? My learning team had all of their assignments posted early! And they didn't suck! Their work? Appeared to have been written by people who can actually read and comprehend the content of the syllabus and text book! I know! Amazing!

Another thing? I've been on-time to work for 3 days in a row. I'm starting to freak out my coworkers...which is almost worth the 5:30 am start & 1.5 hour commute! I'm not a morning person & I have a flexible schedule. So this is a big deal. If you're one of those naturally half an hour early people? Don't poo on my joy. It's not that easy for everyone. Perhaps I do lack discipline at times. But saying so? Counts as pooing on my joy. Just so you know.

So, despite the fact that the universe pooed all over me last week, perhaps it was just a good way to help me appreciate all that little stuff. Because sometimes? It's the little stuff that really matters.

Friday Flipoffs, Vol. II

This week? I have a lot I'd like to flip off. I'm just not quite sure how to go about it.

This week? Was one of those weeks that the universe just had it out for me. But I can't very well go flipping off the universe, now can I. That would just be dangerous. I'm not one to tempt the universe by flipping it off or making statements like "well, things certainly can't get any worse..."

First? I will flip off myself. I arrived to work on Monday morning to discover, first thing, that I had screwed up something significant. Which needed to be rectified. Immediately. The rectification? Meant no break for me. No going to the gym. No grocery shopping. Nada. I have no good excuse for what I screwed up. I just missed something I should've seen. And it was a biggie. Sigh. So? Flip Off, me.

Next, I will flip off the traffic on the highway on Wednesday. My commute from home to work takes about 35-40 minutes in the morning. There is 1 major highway that takes me where I need to go. And only one. On Wednesday? I sat on that highway for over an hour. I got to work at like 10:30. So, yeah. No break. No gym. No grocery shopping. Nada. Traffic? Flip Off! (On a side note? I am grateful that I was not the accident that closed the freeway...while I flip off the traffic? I'm still grateful....)

Finally, I flip off my lack of sleep. Monday? I had homework that kept me up late. Tuesday? Hub actually cut himself off of work after only like 14 hours & wanted to spend some time with me. Not going to turn that down. Wednesday? I had more homework. & to top off the staying up late for Wednesday homework? We had a gigantic, freakish storm hit at like 5:30 in the morning on Thursday. Sigh. I am exhausted. Sadly? I need 7-8 hours of sleep, fairly regularly, to function like a semi-human. If I get 4? I can kinda function the next day (with a large coffee infusion). If I do that 2 days in a row? I start to get mushy. And perhaps a little grouchy. Perhaps. After 2? I'm pretty much useless. And a wee bit grouchy. Unholy bitch might be an apt way to describe me. Perhaps. Exhaustion? Flip Off!! You hang around way too much. I don't even really like you that much. At all. Really. Take the hint.

A hearty thank you to Kludgy Mom for providing this delightful meme. Go visit & see what others are flipping off this week!

I am woman...Raaarrrrr!

So, it's been a week since my metabolism condemnation post.

Just so you know? I have not forgiven my metabolism. In fact? I'm going after it.

Hey, I gave it fair warning when I flipped it off on friday.

Seriously? I'm going to kick its ass. It has straight pissed me off.

My strategy? Is to wear it down. I've gotten some advice from some friends who are more well-versed in the whole "healthy" thing, including Kristin from Peace, love, & muesli. Might I add that she has been a fantabulous encouragement.

So, utilizing advice both from Kristin as well as my in-training life coach (who is actually my ex-husband's new wife...my life is weird like that...), I have made a few adjustments.

1. I've been going to the gym. And surprisingly? I don't hate it like I used to. Perhaps I appreciate the "me" time now that I'm a mommy. I'm pleased to say that I did not keel over & die. I was a little worried tho. As an added bonus, I feel all accomplished and, well, Raaarrr! when I'm done.

2. I'm trying to drink more water. It's safe to say I do not drink enough. I've been told that the water in tea & coffee don't really count. Also the lemon I bought to make water more drinkable? Is apparently very good for detoxifying, according to my life coach...who heard it from a body-builder guy she works with. It does make the water more tasty and it makes my sink smell nice when I grind the peel in the garbage disposal. So yeah.

3. I'm working to add higher protein snacks to keep me from being hungry during the day. I bough some raw almonds & I also have some nifty Kashi crackers that are awaiting a hummus purchase. Kristin also gave me a link to some recipes that I'm working up to trying.

4. I bought some extra-dark chocolate squares to help curb my sweet cravings without being too obscene with the sugar. I have to say, tho, that the 86% cacao? is kinda gross on its own. I had to eat something else to kill the bitter aftertaste. 72% is perfect. And now? 60% is downright sweet to me. Usually 1 chocolate square gets me my fix & I can go about my day (serving size is 4, btw).

Honestly? I hope the metabolism gets the message. I really don't want to have to go all Rambo on it. No, really, I don't. There's only so much life-change I can do at one time. While I am working hard? I'm inherently a little lazy & I don't want to have to raise the bar too high, because frankly? I don't know if I can sustain too much change.

My goal here, is not only to lose 40-50 lbs of baby weight, but also to feel better.

I admit, I do feel better. I have a lot of pride in myself that I have made these changes, stuck to them, and kept plowing along even tho I've been discouraged. I'm trying to make this goal realistic tho. I'm not willing to nibble lettuce leaves for the rest of my life so I can be skinny. I might be skinny, but I'd be a huge bitch.

Trust me on this.

I believe food is to be enjoyed. I just need to moderate some things & find some healthier alternatives that also bring me joy. I will eat pizza in my life. I will eat the occasional baked good.

The occasional french fry? I'm a good girl in that regard...I'll get the fruit side for me.

...BUT....

I feel that if I purchase the food? & not only did I purchase the food, but I was a good girl & got the "healthy" side? I'm entitled to any "bag fries" that might jump out of my husband's fry container during transit. Those 3 or 4 fries? Are the best. fries. ever.

And no, I don't "accidentally" dump out half of his fries into the bag. Really. Seriously, I don't....

And my reward?

Last Wednesday I was hovering at 203-204.

As of this morning? I'm hovering at 200.

And that makes me happy.

Plus? Once I get to 190? I get to treat myself to a new handbag. :)

Friday Flipoffs

Today, I'm coming out of the Flipoff Lurker shadows & finally participating in the Friday Flipoffs. A hearty Thank You to Kludgy Mom for starting this thoroughly therapeutic meme. :)



Today, my flipoffs start with my metabolism. I have had a bit of a mental setback this week. Eating healthy for several weeks should equal weightloss, at least in my mind. But no dice. Metabolism? I won't let you beat me. I'm going to make some adjustments & then I'm coming for you metabolism. A big fat Flip off. No pun intended...

Knee pain? You're up next. Note, I'm not flipping of my knees. I like them & would prefer they continue working. I would just prefer that they would work as they are supposed to...without pain. I'm 32 years old & am not old enough to be hobbling around like a grandma. Nor do I have any flashy "old football injury" stories to compensate. Knee pain? Flip Off.

Deadbeat Learning Team Members. You suck. Seriously. The rest of us who are working hard to earn a semi-decent grade in our online class? Hate you. You do not deserve to get the same grade as the rest of us who actually do the work. We are tired of you riding on our coattails to pass the classes & get your degree. I sincerely hope I never get the brain surgeon that was the deadbeat team member. Ok, well, I really don't want to need a brain surgeon, but if I did...it better not be the deadbeat. Flip Off.

And Mornings. Don't think I forgot about you. You and I? Have been going around & around on this for years. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that you come...it the "I'm glad the world didn't end while I was sleeping" sense. But it the effervescent "Yippee! It's a new day let's get up & greet it cheerily!" sense? Not so much. Any effervescence I might be feeling is likely leftover liquor from the night before. And that's really closer to indigestion than effervescence. Mornings? You have your bubbly bright-&-early people. I'm not one of those people. It's nothing personal, but seriously? Flip off.

This post has been a sneaky double-purpose post. I'm participating (but certainly not flipping off) in the Nerd Mafia's Word Up, Yo! weekly meme.

Metabolism? I hate you.

Ok, let me warn you...this is a bit of a rant. If you're looking for inspiration (especially on healthy eating or weight loss) step away from the blog now.

You have been warned.

So, as you may or may not be aware, I have been trying to "make more healthy choices" recently. For a number of reasons. I am realizing that to be the best mate/mother/person I can be, I need to love myself and truly take care of myself.

Right?

Right.

Ok, so given that, as I have also previously mentioned, I have 50 pounds of baby weight that needs to vacate.

Let me say, I have been quite disciplined these past 3 weeks with my eating habits. Granted, I had pizza once and I did eat 1 hamburger. In 3 weeks. That was my cheat. Otherwise? I have been a pretty good girl. By that, I mean oatmeal for breakfast, a tuna wrap (not tuna salad - tuna) and organic yogurt + fresh fruit for lunch, and assorted (much smaller than my average portions of) dinner.

I have slightly increased my activity. Not much yet, but more than before. I drink no soda. I have 1 unsweetened coffee in the morning with a little organic milk (I can't quite go black).

So, I have been a good girl, right?

**WARNING** THAR BE SWEARIN' AHEAD, MATEY... I mean a hell of a lot of swearing....

Not 1 fucking pound lost. Not a single Goddamn pound.

I nibble once or twice a day on tiny <100 calorie snacks between "meals" to try to keep the "I'm not eating much" migraines at bay (which is why I can't starve myself thin, even if I wanted to. I have to function/work/parent/etc & migraines preclude that). Most of those snacks? Are whole grain/organic/etc. I'm not fucking around here. Yet still? Not 1 pound. Let me tell you, I am angry as all holy hell. I can eat tasty filling food & drink soda & hang out at 203 pounds. Why the F am I spending all this money on whole grain organic stuff, fresh fruits etc if nothing is happening? In 3 weeks, something should be happening.

I'm hungry constantly, my tummy is in knots over all this fabulous fiber & whole grain stuff I'm eating, I have migraines hanging in the wings....and not 1 fucking pound.

Tomorrow, I step it up with a gym membership. But let me tell you, I'm really discouraged right now. I am terrified that I'm going to blow money on a gym membership, take "spare" time I don't have much of to faithfully work out....& still not lose any weight.

I say this because it has happened before. I spent a good 2 months eating healthy & faithfully walking (+ tiny bits of jogging...which is what killed my knee) 3 miles a day like 4 days a week. Again, no weight lost.

I'm freaked out because I don't want to be putting forth this much effort & be this far out of my comfort zone and have nothing but wasted time, money, and migraines to show for it.

Oh, & lest we blame it on an underactive thyroid? No luck. Tested that. I'm as normal as normal can be (at least as it pertains to thyroid function...)

So, I have to say...WTF?

Seriously, I need some positive reinforcement from my F*ing metabolism. Fat needs to come off.

I now return you to your regularly scheduled happy blogs.

Sorry. My scale pissed me off. I've been working hard & I was actually quite crushed.

Love, Hate, Hope, and Fear.

When I got pregnant with my son, I was terrified. I suppose most people are terrified when they find out they are expecting. But I am an only child with very, very little experience with kids.

Frankly? I didn't like them much. Mostly (I now realize) because I didn't know what the hell to do with them. Imagine someone runs up to you and hands you a koala. They say "Here! This is legally & morally yours! Take care of it!" Do you know anything about marsupial care? Are eucalyptus leaves really the best food for them? And where does one find the best eucalyptus? What do they drink? How do they drink? Can I get a koala bottle at PetsMart? Crap. It is awfully cute tho...

So, I find out I'm going to be a mommy. Surprise! I was terrified that I would not develop that bond with my offspring that mothers are supposed to have. During pregnancy, I did not feel any kind of magical bond with my baby. Most of what I felt was along the lines of "wow, I'm getting fat!" or "Gee, a baby kick feels a lot like gas" or "dammit, quit kicking my bladder."

Not quite the spiritual "mother" experience that I was expecting.

But once I had my son? Things changed. Don't get me wrong, the "what the hell am I doing" part still hasn't gone away (hence the name of my blog...), but that child became my reason for breathing. I discovered a level of love that I did not know existed.

And honestly? It scares the crap out of me to love someone so much.

Despite being a fiercely loving (and perhaps occasionally a smidge overprotective) mama bear, I have kind of a love/hate relationship with being a parent. I considered describing my feelings as bipolar, but I would feel like an ass for doing that after I read Adrienne's excellent points on the subject at No Points for Style .

Me and my stupid principles, anyway.

I love that Boo can always make me feel better. If I stub my toe? He will pet my toe, tell me it's ok, & ask me if it's all better.

I hate that I've had to retrain my truck driver mouth so Boo is not dropping F bombs in preschool. I had a very colorful (and often extremely therapeutic) vocabulary. Commuting without my full vocabulary? Not cool. But, I don't want to get that many phone calls from assorted parents & school administrations. "Mrs. B? About your son...We do not believe 'asshat' is appropriate language in this environment. We have other children to consider. And what exactly is a 'fuckstick?'" These are conversations I don't need to be having.

I love to see him learn and develop new skills.

I hate that with every new skill learned, I have to be on the lookout for the new trouble that he is now capable of causing and/or getting into.

I love that he told me that I have to stay young (he thinks I'm young!!) because if I get old I will die.

I hate that my little guy knows about death and fears my death. Seriously, it made me cry when he said that. Even if he was on the toilet at the time.

I love that he inspires me to be a better and (occasionally) more mature version of myself.

I hate that I have to be mature. I'm not very good at it.

I love that being a parent forces me to really examine and understand my principles.

I hate that my principles won't allow me to be a hypocrite, and I actually have to follow the principles I'm trying to teach him if I expect him to take me seriously.

I love that he comes to snuggle with me when he's hurt or sick.

I hate that he has to be hurt or sick to spend any length of time snuggling with me. When everyone told me to enjoy the infant stage? I should've listened more closely.

I love that I understand him better than anyone else in the world.

I love that seeing him first thing in the morning or when I walk in to preschool at the end of the day never fails to brighten my day.

I love that he will sometimes say "Oh, nice dress mommy!" When I walk into his room to get him up in the morning. And he SO did not learn this from Hub, I might add. Hub is not that free & easy with the wardrobe compliments. If I don't have any organs hanging out? Hub is happy...assuming that other people are going to see me, that is.

I love that he needs me.

I hate that as he gets older, he'll need me less and less.

I love that as he gets older, he'll need me less and less.

I fear that I can't control how his life will turn out.

I hope that I lay a strong enough foundation that he will make good choices.

I fear that all those alcoholic genes that he has might be too much for him to control.

I hope that our example of moderation and honest attitude will be enough to take some of the mystery and taboo excitement out of alcohol.

I fear that I will not be strong enough to let him go and let him be his own man.

I hope that in the time it takes him to grow into his own man, I will have grown enough myself that I can let him go.

I fear that he may not realize his potential, that he may not grow into the man I see that he could be.

I hope that he does realize his potential and becomes more than I could've ever hoped he would be.

I fear what's out in the world, what could happen to him.

I hope that he grows with experience and comes out on the other side of adversity a stronger, better man.

There is so much that fills my heart and tears at it, all at the same time. It is a very dichotomous feeling, both fulfilling and frightening. There are times? That I'm scared to the point of tears.

With this post? I haven't even addressed my fears for my stepdaughter...that is a whole other animal.

Being a parent? Is some seriously scary and mindbending shit.

And I would never, ever trade it. For anything. Ever.