Settling In and Smoothing Out

There are hard parts about this move and the transition from independence to the changes that we have had to come to terms with. I like to think the hardest part right now is that we had to take Punky out of school, because we got so backed up on tuition and it now needs to be caught up. It will get there, but it is a sacrifice that I am so very sad about – she was starting to thrive socially, her teachers kept telling me how much more she was talking and interacting. She’s a shy kid and she’s not exactly a social butterfly – especially when she started school, so to hear those things – made me so happy! And, now, we are back to an only child being at home with adults.

The good part about the move is Miss Punky is sporting the best tan on a toddler I have ever seen. Seriously. Grammy has a small pool and our little fish is out there in her swimsuit as often as she can possibly get an adult to take her out there. She goes on trips to the park with Papa in the wagon.

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Yea, we have a park – literally in our backyard. Do we live in the basement, yea, but we also live in a neighborhood. Last time I pulled Punky around in the wagon – over to the park that is pretty much right across the street, I got to thinking that we didn’t have this when we were living our apartment. We had a cluster of apartment buildings, but we didn’t have ‘neighbors’ or kids playing in the streets. We didn’t have houses to walk past and she didn’t really see lawns being mowed.

Another silver lining, new things to explore. Of course more thing to hurt ourselves on. I fell down one of the three sets of stairs today and busted my knee and threw my camera on the concrete of the garage in the process. I am currently wearing my knee brace, but I think I will live! Punky’s lip is healing up nicely, this morning it was scabbed over, and I was resisting the urge to pull it off, it fell off by itself this evening before dinner.

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My little monkey is such a little curious thing. So it was great to see her be able to explore and enjoy herself. Its super hot, so when we get the chance to make it to the park in the early hours of the day – when it is cooler outside, we take the chance. She finds all sorts of great things to play on and I love capturing the moments. With a pool and a park in our backyard, this summer may be the best yet, no matter where we live!

 

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Another weight lifted off my shoulders this week, when my FMLA was approved for my absences as work. It means that for all things that have gone this last year, my job is being held for me. Thank goodness it was approved. Without it, I likely wouldn’t have a job and I am not dismissive about the fact that there are a lot of things we need to work on and I have a plan in place – but its a weight that makes me feel lighter and a little more free.

With all the weights getting lighter from my shoulders, it feels like someone else is holding onto the reigns and keeping me afloat. My heart isn’t as heavy and for now, I will let someone else push me. (AKA, Miss Punky was insistent that she push me on the swing, no she did not want to sit on the seat, Mommy, you sit and I will push you.) Silly as it is, but being pushed on the swing – really gave me a sense of freedom and it was great to hang out with my little girl in what feels like the longest time we have ever gone since the last time we spent time together.

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We get to spend more time together lately, and with the basement being a smaller space, we spent it closer together. I really do love coming home from work and the three of us going down into the basement and sitting on my bed with  my little girl and talking about what she did that day. We don’t spend all night down there – we sit down to dinner with Grammy and Papa, that’s different for us to, cooked meals and sit down at a table together for dinner, we didn’t do that at our home. So many good things are changing as a result of something that may not have been so good.

Kim and I have things to talk about again. I mean, I can come home and we can just decompress and talk about our day and talk about something other than the mundane and same old thing. We have conversations. We are closer. The metaphor of the small space, the closeness of the basement means we are all becoming closer, bonding and in a way, regardless of what I expected – its a great outcome for us, so far.

 

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Of course, we have only been here for three days – its still the beginning and I have no misgivings that this will be the way this situation will stay. I am sure there will be days when the closeness is the last thing I want, when the lack of private space is the last thing I want, when the constant companionship is something I will want to get away from and have no where to go. But, for now, its just calm and comforting.

We are making new adventures. New memories. We are building new hopes and new plans and new situations. We are exploring, growing and expanding and in all of it, my only hope is that we can bring forth a sense of strength, courage, and determination to our daughter. She doesn’t have to know the circumstances of our situation, the analogies of the bottom in the life we are in right now  – she doesn’t need to know the tears shed behind closed doors or the decisions made in the conversations we have in the dead of night – in the whispers words we speak in desperation of what’s left for us to do.

Instead, she will only know happy. She will only know the memories and the joy. I will only allow her to know the light and the peace and the childhood that she is to have. She is not a grown up and by whatever means necessary, she will not have to be one as soon as I had to be one – I will keep her little and I will let her be a child for as long as I possibly can keep her that way.

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Being a grown up is over-rated and believe me when I say if I could figure out how to go back and make that part stop, be a child longer, savor the playful moments longer, linger in childlike joy and entertain my teddy bears and Barbies just a little more – I would! Alas that’s not allowed, once you are grown up, there’s no turning back and I will not force my baby to grow up. I won’t.

So we are making the best and we are slowly getting out of the holes and smoothing out the bumps. Its not a fix all and its most certainly not the end, but the beginning is looking bright.

Oh and as a side note, all heavy shit aside, I am so proud and pretty darn excited that my kid loves Minnie Mouse and Batman equally! 😉 Its a pretty fantastic thing to me. Raising a kid without stereotypes is my ultimate goal and so far, it’s working out. She thinks for herself and that’s just the way we want her to be!!

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Suckville Week

Otherwise Known As Worries and Little Sleep
My first appointment with the OB was about a week ago. We went over just about everything and the one thing that stood out to me was Postpartum depression. He mentioned that since I was originally on Prozac for anxiety and mood swings that I was more susceptible to having Postpartum depression when the baby comes.
http://www.morguefile.com/archive/display/16046
Xianstudio

This is not something that I am interested in having or experiencing. My partner pointed out last night that I have been lashing out for no reason at all, or at the smallest little things. I figured it was due to the hormones, but really, I think its the fact that I have been off my medication for well over 2 months, since I stopped taking the pills before we started trying. Prozac was the one thing that kept my moods pretty stable and I was a pretty nice person to be around.

Add to this lack of medication, the constant need for sleep and not getting it, and you have a time bomb in my body waiting to explode. Well, it exploded last night. Something ridiculously stupid got me so worked up that I was crying on the couch for a good thirty minutes about how none of my jeans fit me and I’m not even showing yet and I can’t do anything right.
http://www.morguefile.com/archive/display/633546
alvimann

Let me explain this. I have been a smoker since I was about 16 years old. That’s about 11 years now. When we decided to try and have a baby, I decided that I should quit smoking. Well needless to say, 7 weeks into this pregnancy and I am still smoking. I want everyone to know that I have cut back a lot and for the most part I may smoke 1 or 2 cigarettes a day, at the most 5, depending on the day. However, I don’t think people realize how incredibly guilty I feel that I can’t just kick this stupid as hell addiction. I know that people don’t understand how guilty I feel because I am constantly listening to the comments. “Aren’t you going to quit?” “Don’t you know you shouldn’t be smoking?” “Smoking is bad for the baby.” Look people. I AM AWARE.

So now my week is no medication, no sleep, and guilt over cigarettes. Oh no, you would think it would stop there. It doesn’t.
On top of that, I am bitchy at work. Now, generally, I like my job. Its easy and it pays the bills. However, if you have ever worked in a call center, you know that its stressful and people are so much more bold over the phone than they ever would be in person. So, instead, my days generally go like this. Let’s add this to everything else and its still not where it ends.
My jeans don’t fit, I pee every thirty freaking minutes, my animals are forever trying to trip me on the way to the bathroom, my dog thinks she needs to cuddle with me, while its 100 degrees in our apartment and she runs that on her own, my feet are swollen, I have no ankles, my fingers fall asleep at the drop of a dime. I CANNOT SLEEP. Its like everything is piling up on top of me and I don’t really know where to begin or end. No one prepared me for all of this.
My partner …. she’s had enough. Besides the fact that she has her own shit to deal with. Starting with losing her job to do BiPolar Disorder and feeling like a worthless contributor, which she is not. However, because she is not working right now, and she is not getting any money coming it at the moment, though, she’s working on it, we are looking at more and more bills piling up and more and more stress to be had.
So, now, I have my shit and her shit and let’s put it all on my shoulders … carry it around and never take it off. I mean, really, is all this necessary.
7 weeks is not that far along. This baby has a whole lot of baking to do and for crying out loud, this is just 1 week of the many that will likely stress me out. I am trying so very hard to be zen and calm about things. I am trying not to let things freak me out or stress me out, but in reality, I’m a bundle of nerves and a ball of fire waiting to explode.
I am beginning to wonder if I will make it through the next 8 months in tact and with my sanity. Thus the reason for worrying about Postpartum Depression. Let’s all just cross our fingers that it doesn’t happen and this gets better, emotionally.