Jessica's Blog

Tonya put this on her blog and I loved it.  I love her take on it.  And being the good friend for whom the whole start-up life worked out for, I have to add:

- You still go back to work on Saturday.. no, I didn't mistype that.
- You still can't afford a single family home you'd want to live in, the Google crew has all those! (good on ya, my Google buds!)
- You don't get more time with the fam...  Seeing the disappointment in the kids' eyes today when they saw dad off (on President's Day) just sucked.

But I will say this:  When we went for it with the start up, it was more for the company, the people Hubby would work with, and passion for the concept.  We got lucky. 

Just as a man can say "We're having a baby", a spouse of someone working at at start up can say, "We're living the start up life" and "We decided to go for it" because it really is a team effort.

This weekend Honey Girl had a truly traumatic event occur.

Hubby was getting set to take the kids out.  He sent them to the garage with the understanding that they would get into Luis (the Nissan).  When the kids dashed to the car, he came upstairs to get the shopping list, or what have you.  I was changing Little Lady's diaper on the top floor.

I was coming downstairs to the living room when I heard the sound of Honey Girl crying hysterically.  She does this thing where she can't catch her breath and the hitching sobs cause her to gag and wretch.  I know, it's great.  I assumed he and Big Boy got into a tiff, or she fell down or something, but the cry was much much worse than that.

Hubby looked concerned and simply said she was justifiably upset.  She had had an accident in her pants.  She sobbed this to me as I passed Little Lady to Hubby so I could hold Honey Girl.  I soothed her that it was ok, it was ok as Hubby explained what had happened.

Honey Girl had run downstairs and jumped into the Nissan, as instructed, and closed the doors.  Big Boy meandered down the stairs and got into the minivan (not as told) and was playing on his Leapster with the doors closed.  Honey Girl had the sudden urge to go potty (as most three year olds do), but wasn't able to get out of the car due to the child locks on the backseat doors.  The doors were unlocked, but due to child safety.. she was essentially locked in the car.  Panic set in as Honey Girl has not had an accident (and is exceedingly proud of this fact) in a long long long time.  She couldn't get out of the car and was screaming and yelling as loud as she could for help, and pounding on the doors, but no one could hear her.  She soiled herself.

Hubby heard her when he had gotten to the main floor and ran downstairs.  Big Boy hadn't heard her at all inside the van, and felt horrible and was extremely apologetic.  Buck the dog was quite concerned and followed her up the stairs and kept guard as I held her on the landing.

As I held her and soothed her and coached her to breathe, she started to wretch, and I knew she was going to hurl.  Sure enough, the first pass came up and got me.  I asked Hubby to "get me something" and he passed me a washcloth.  I still laugh at this because his thinking was that she wasn't going to full on vomit... but of course she did!  Three or four good belly emptying throws on me and the stairs. 

You know your a mom when someone is puking all over you and all you can think to say is, "That's okay, honey... go on, get it all out.... okay... it's okay.. you think there's more in there?  No, no, no.... it's okay you poor thing, don't worry about it.  It's just a shirt and we can clean the floor.... do you feel a little better?"

Honey Girl of course got upset that she had throw up in her shirt. 

Honey Girl got a nice soothing bath in Momma's favorite bath salts (meditation) and shared stories with me while she soaked, calmed, regrouped and Hubby cleaned the carpet.  I told her my stuck in the car story and she laughed.  See, my story ended in me yelling at my parents, "How could you!?!?" and my parents simply saying, "You were asleep."  My, how times have changed.  She made up stories about (you guessed it) princesses and castles and ponies.  I'm glad my gag reflex held through those.

When she was ready, we went back to the garage and she climbed into the car and was coached on climbing around in the car to find different ways to get out and *most importantly* how to get to the drivers seat and honk the horn until help comes.  Big Boy got the lesson as well.  They enjoyed it and were both leery of honking the horn, especially on the minivan where it took stacking the hands on top of each other and pushing with their body weight on it, a la CPR style.

SO..... parents out there let this be an advisory to you.  Honey Girl was in a safe place in the garage.  There was no stranger danger.  It was a cool day and the garage door was shut.  She was only down there for a few minutes, much like any other exodus process when a diaper needs to be changed or an item needs to be retrieved from inside.  This time, she had to go potty and it changed everything.  Be sure to give the kids the tools to know how to get out of the car and how to scream for help when no one will be able to hear their voices.  Also, don't secure the kids in their seats until your definitely on your way.  Honey Girl was free to move about the car when this incident occurred, but still... common sense and all.

The next day Honey Girl managed to close her hand in the sliding door of the Odyssey.  Now, since Big Boy had already blazed that trail over a year ago, we managed that one just fine and once she felt better we joked a bit about how she needed to make her peace with the car gods.  That, and she need not be injured to use mom's bath salts.

Little Lady just proper crawled across the floor!  Look at her!  there's she goes!  Tummy up off the floor, on all fours in her pink cheetah shirt and her osh kosh overalls....

Oh Crap.... she's going straight for the stairs.

I love this Joy.

She's home today fielding a fever form her Hep B vaccine.

Morning time came and went like a passing fury.  Much as always. 

Honey Girl has taken a new tone to her language that I have chosen to respond to with, "Ok, let's try that again.... and try to say it nicely."  THis is in response to being told, "Mommy!  You forgot to get me my...."  Shyeah... get it yourself kiddo!  I relayed this new language choice with teachers at her school and was given kudos and a warning.  "Wait til she starts using 'it's all your fault'".  Yeah.  Thanks.  Hadn't thought of that.

Big Boy is a slow riser.  I am glad we've managed to drag out of bed in a more timely fashion in order to "support his independence" in his morning routine.  It takes this kid fifteen minutes to get out of his pajamas and into his uniform.  Thankfully I'm usually nursing Little Lady while giving him the occasional verbal cue, because if getting him into his clothes were my only task I might just lose my head.  Once he gets some food into his belly, he becomes human.

Little Lady continues to rock my world.  It's no longer okay to dress her lying down, and she will show preferences if given choices in clothing. 

Once I dropped off the final child I took a deep exhale. 

Today was my lucky day.  The weather was perfection.  The sun was shining.  I had my Buck dog with me.  We hiked.  We hiked to the reservoir in Los Gatos.  It was a wonderful *rather* brisk trip up and back in an hour.  Ferns are popping up along the sides of the trail.  The smell of damp earth is heavenly.  Rushing water from the drainage pipes is musical.

I came home, showered, took care of home chores with tired legs.  I felt physically beat and blissful.  You know, when your body is all warm and tired and rosey from a good workout?  It's yummy and fantastic.  Job well done.  Body well cared for.

Then the pick ups began.  My day went downhill from the there.  As in.... that roller coaster at Cedar Point with the highest steepest drop downhill form there.

It took me over half an hour to pick up Honey Girl as she did not want to wake up in order to leave school.  She had wet through all over her clothes and her nap time linens and did not want to be a participant in her own clean up.  She did not want to leave.  She did not want this or that..... Oh.  And I forgot to dress her.  I forgot to take her clothes off.  Y'get the picture.  I handled it gracefully and patiently.  Granted, it's my witching hour at her pick up time, so I'm usually dragging for an hour until my body gives up yet again on the concept of a nap and perks up again.

LIttle Lady  was warm I went to pick her up.  She had been sleepy all day.  Falling asleep here and there, fussy and just tired.  She had her Hep B vaccine at her nine month appointment yesterday, so it's understandable.  She was warm.  I let Katy know I'd be keeping her tomorrow, due to her steadily warming temperature while I was holding her and nursing her while Honey Girl played with the babies and the baby toys. 

I took the girls to get the groceries in a bit of a rush, in order to get Big Boy by the end of his after school sports.  Big shopping trip.  Yes, please help me to the car.  As an aside, I love it when folks pass me with two of my kids and quip how I have my hands full... when it's only TWO of them ;-).

We go to pick up Big Boy.  It's five o'clock and I've been "picking up kids"  since 2:20.  Big Boy walks to the car and informs me he had a bit of an accident in his pants.  Again.  Again.  Oh my freakin'.... fer pete's sake.... o'fer the lovah all that's sacred again?!?!?

I felt a screw go lose.

I will spare you the attempted supportive and yet strict parent dialogue that ensued... or the actual yelling that occured when Big Boy told me that one time too many "I dunno".

We got home.  Big Boy was instructed to strip out of his soiled clothes and put them immediately into the washing machine in the garage.  I unloaded the countless bags of groceries needed to fuel these ingrate brats children.  Honey Girl offered to help, but decided she "doesn't want to" after finding the one item in the bags she was gunning for to begin with; her valentines.  Little Lady was last out of the van and not happy about it because she had  a fever by then.

Big Boy sulks upstairs with instructions to take a bath.  Little Lady is given motrin and the dosage syringe to play with while I put away the groceries, empty the dishwasher and try to keep Honey Girl from hanging on the dog by offering her a mandarin orange.  While finishing my grocery chore I am told repeatedly that "I am eating a cutie, because I am a cutie.... I am a cutie princess, momma!  I am a cutie pretty princess!!  MOMMMMMAAA!  I AM A CUTIE PRINCESS, OKAYYYYY??!?!!"

I take Little Lady upstairs with Honey Girl at my feet to check on Big Boy.  Every child gets bathed in quick succession.  Lots of dialogue about "Okay, you washed your hair, what comes next?"  "Please dry your body and put on your jammies"

When we get back downstairs after our backwards evening.... I found myself feeling really done.  I wish I could feel a feeling before feeling done.  But what would I do with that feeing?  Looking back on the events of the afternoon and evening, I don't see a time I could have taken a personal time-out.  I did something I haven't done in well over a year.  I popped the cork on a bottle of merlot.  Yup.  Screw this, I'm having a glass of merlot.

I tossed the kids' valentine's to them to "do" and with babe on hip, with the occasional swig of oakey goodness, I made it til Hubby got home without running away, screaming bloody murder, sobbing uncontrollably, abusing the kids, or coming undone in some other fashion.

The kids got their nutritious, healthy dinner.  We talked about their days, their friends.  I listened to good music on the squeezebox and even sang along a little.  At the diner table, Honey Girl said, "You're a good Momma, Momma."  "Why thank you, Honey Girl... you know just what to say." 

That mild wine buzz really did take the edge off.. and seeing as I haven't had a drink that lead to a buzz since August.. gotta say I feel no guilt.

"When all else fails, lower your standards." My mom joked with me later on the phone.

Yes, the kids got to bed just fine.  Yes, they are snoozing well, although Honey Girl made three trips down saying her diaper fell off.... thus having us put her into jammie pants so she would stop taking it off.

I am in a phase of this just sucking right now.  I mean, it can really just suck the life out of me.  I feel like I'm treading water from the time I drag them out of bed until I drop them off, and then again when I get them all home until bedtime.  No, it's not always this way, but recently it's been just brutal.  Between Honey Girl's need for a constant audience to her antics and demanding feedback to every comment, Big Boy's need for complete silence or issues around school, and Little Lady's joyful (and I'd love to just do this) wish to be held all the time.... some days I am just toast.

What I have a wonder about is this:  would this evening have sent me over the edge so much if I hadn't had such a great hike earlier in the day?  I mean, if I had just run errands, replied to e-mails, made all the phone calls I needed to make.... if I hadn't done something so luxuriantly self-endulgent as hiking up into the hills and gotten my nature jollies, would this evening have felt like such crap?  In theory, one would think that I would have felt so fueled by nature... nothing would have brought me down... right?

Guess not.

So tomorrow I have Little Lady with me, and while I need to cancel on a thing or two.... nothing could make me happier than holding her, cuddling her and soothing her all day.  Maybe the bigguns will have a park run-down session after school tomorrow instead of being inside.

I took a big step in writing this post.  I have long been one to not want to talk about the hard stuff.  To not want to seem ungrateful for my kids.  I am grateful.  I love them.  I wouldn't have it any other way.  But today... and quite a bit lately.  It has been kicking my ass.  I am taking many steps  I may write about later to keep myself afloat.  I can see how moms who don't have it in themselves to fight for their happiness get lost, alienated, angry, resentful, and honestly done to the point of no return. 

Oh, and to cheer me up this evening, Hubby played Wii against me and brutally beat me in every measly game on the easiest setting.  Yeah, that felt great.....

Thank God my next pole class starts soon.

Imagine what it would be like to have a president for the people and by the people.

Imagine what it would be like to have a president who refused big money and raised his money from the people... and didn't just plunk in some (er.. a few million) of their own dollars after taking big money from big corporations.

Imagine a president who is not just more of the same.  More of the same rich, white, connected power lawyer type.

Imagine a president who is truly the full embodiment of all that is America.... someone blended, educated, tolerant, diplomatic and aware.  Someone who looks like much of America.

Imagine how maybe, just maybe said president would shatter decades old beliefs of who can or cannot do what due to their "background".  Imagine children of all kinds looking up and seeing someone who is just like them doing good works.  Good works beyond athletic, entertainment, or ministry endeavors.  Someone who decided to not pack a chip on their shoulder, someone who decided to do as we'd all been told... don't let "them" keep you down, don't let "them" hold you back.... hold your head up and keep going.  Then, for this person.... it really did work to not play by the same rules and get caught in the same quagmire.

South Africa took this step long before we did.

When I allow myself to think on such a development, my heart sings.    While I could write something quip-ish about that... I really don't want to.  It is too big in my heart.  This is not my raw- raw sis-boom-bah cum-baya aren't I cool and open minded because I love to live in a rainbow world.  I live in today's world, and clearly the old way of doing things got us into this God-awful mess.

I just found my own damned voice.

Little Lady is pulling herself up to standing.  She waves "hi" and "bye" and says mama, dada, and "hi-deh" for hi there.  She's eating table food three times a day and loving it.  She has six teeth. She can scoot and scuttle across the room with lightning speed.  She's *sniff sniff* losing interest in breast feeding now that she can eat and scuttle.

This has gone by so fast and it is so bittersweet.  Being the third baby, there was pretty much nothing she could ever do to give us a hard time.  Hubby and I have loved every little last second of her life.  Cherished it.  Luxuriated in it knowing she's our last little baby and *POOF* she's not a little baby anymore!

She is so amazingly wonderful.  Her big goofy grin and her twinkly brown eyes.  Her hair is coming in with this little foofy-poof quality that is just too darned charming.  She full body smiles and says "Hi Deh!" and claps her hands.  She was dancing with me tonight after bath time.  Nakey playtime.  I was holding her hands and she was bouncing and swishing her buns, laughing, throwing her head back and squealing.  She has stolen my heart and I can't get enough of watching her become a bigger baby.

It's gone by so fast.  So very fast.  This is something all parents say, and we say it because it's true!

It started early this morning, late last night.  The lump.  Little Lady bit once and I simply rolled over and switched sides and went back to sleep.  Now I know it was because she wasn't able to get anything from the blocked duct.  She's been teething and therefore not sleeping well in her crib.  I don't mind the baby cuddles,  baby smell, baby snores, baby warmth.  Oh, how I suffer... not!

Then today things grew worse.  The lump grew quickly to a walnut that hurt.  Feeding Little lady and pumping made no difference.  I hot compressed the breast and rested, but the lump branched out its ugliness through my breast.  I called the midwife and made an appointment for later in the day, hoping I would be able to call and cancel if this (wishful thinking ) "plugged duct" decided to release.  Er, no such luck.

By the time I did see my adored midwife... not good.  I was starting to feel all kinds of icky, had a fever, and when she examined me, she sucked her teeth (as I simultaneously winced) and said, "Oooh, honey... yes, lets get you on antibiotics pronto."  When I looked in the mirror at the office while getting dressed I saw my breast transformed, distorted, lumpy and red streaked.

I feel under the weather, but supposedly with the meds should feel much better by tomorrow.  But for now, I will enjoy my anti-biotics/ motrin/ infection induced stupor and continue watching the primary results.  very interesting. 

HI, I'm Jess.... and I'm lactose intolerant.

All my life I have been this way but only began to put the pieces together when I was in my twenties.  As a kid I hated milk.  I would only drink the wateriest milk possible.  As a kid my folks just thought I had a "nervous stomach" and warned me again eating ice cream or cheese on hot days or on car rides, because I would holler that I needed to go potty.

So I figured it out and switched to soy and other cheese alternatives if I needed a creamy feel to stuff.  I do love cheese.  And I'm sorry, but sometimes... when the cheese is really good stuff, it's worth the agony.  Sometimes; though less and less so, Ben and Jerry's is worth the agony.

But this weekend I woofed down the afore mentioned veggie lasagne.  Bad idea.  I was hungry and impatient. It was there.  I figured it would not have much cheese and it wouldn't be  a big deal.  Bad idea.  The mixture of the many different veggies and the cheese had me uncomfortable for over a day.  Yup.  That night I was taking tums and getting "ooohhh, sorry Honey"s as Hubby watched me hobble about looking four months pregnant.

I'm on the tail end of it all now. I think.  I hope.

I may well keep some lactaid capsules in the house for if I should pull that kind of silliness again.

Life is just so much easier if I just don't have dairy.

My mom (step-mom) sent me this and I was really moved by it. Now, before y'all get comment snarky or politi-freaky on me.. I want to be clear.  I have great respect for candidates running.  I am not putting this up as a "nya nya nya boo-boo" or an invite to rip into my thoughts with ill will.  Let's agree to disagree and discuss, for that is how we learn from one another and rise above this sh&*-hole we're in now.

As I don't think many will disagree about the sh*%hole statement.

My fav line:

"we will remember that there is something happening in America; that we are not as divided as our politics suggests; that we are one people; we are one nation; and together, we will begin the next great chapter in the American story" It was a creed written into the founding documents that declared the destiny of a nation.

Yes we can.

It was whispered by slaves and abolitionists as they blazed a trail toward freedom.

Yes we can.

It was sung by immigrants as they struck out from distant shores and pioneers who pushed westward against an unforgiving wilderness.

Yes we can.

It was the call of workers who organized; women who reached for the ballots; a President who chose the moon as our new frontier; and a King who took us to the mountaintop and pointed the way to the Promised Land.

Yes we can to justice and equality.

Yes we can to opportunity and prosperity.

Yes we can heal this nation.

Yes we can repair this world.

Yes we can.

We know the battle ahead will be long, but always remember that no matter what obstacles stand in our way, nothing can stand in the way of the power of millions of voices calling for change.

We have been told we cannot do this by a chorus of cynics...they will only grow louder and more dissonant ........... We've been asked to pause for a reality check. We've been warned against offering the people of this nation false hope.

But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope.

Now the hopes of the little girl who goes to a crumbling school in Dillon are the same as the dreams of the boy who learns on the streets of LA; we will remember that there is something happening in America; that we are not as divided as our politics suggests; that we are one people; we are one nation; and together, we will begin the next great chapter in the American story with three words that will ring from coast to coast; from sea to shining sea --

Yes. We. Can.