Weekend

We had a fun weekend with my sister who came down from Maine to visit.  We went into the Big City (Boston) and brought Jacob to the Children's Museum.  He was fairly unimpressed with most of the exhibits, and boastingly, I can say it's because he's exposed to so much at home.  Bubbles, Water, Sand, Slides, Tools, Kitchen Stuff....it's all stuff I let him "help" me with here.  So using kid friendly tools or pouring sand was just not cutting it (no pun intended) for him. It was fun to get out of the house and on an adventure though.  I think our next visit will be to the "real" Science Museum.

Going into Boston is always a reality check for me.  I live out in Central Massachusetts, or "the boonies", as my friends refer to it as.  Many times I day dream about what it would be like to live closer to the city, and have more money to blow on stupid things.  As we stood behind 4 couples who were using 800 dollar strollers and their kids were decked out in Juicy Couture, I was struck with how happy I am in my little life.  I don't know that those couples are any happier in life because they have more money than me.  Or that the father wore a trendy corduroy jacket and nice watch.  As much as I don't want to and try not to, I can sometimes get caught up in the images people portray.

I am trying to make a lot of changes this year.  The most important is to live a healthy lifestyle and provide Jacob a good example.  That should include being less judgy.  It's going to be hard for me.  No lie, I am judge, jury and executioner most of the time. The only time I'm not is if someone else is playing my role.  Then I turn into a public defender and play devils advocate. I imagine I can be a frustrating person to live with/deal with sometimes.  In any case, I'm working on it.  I don't know how I came to be this way or why, but I can try to change how I react.

In other news, I have rediscovered my Wii and am a dancing fiend.  We played Just Dance all weekend long, and it was awesome.  I am pretty sure I found my "cross training" for days I don't run...Speaking of which, after today's run, I will have run 50 miles in one month.  I hope to hit a 75 mile month by the end of the fall if all goes according to plan.  We shall see.

Here we are in Boston after the museum.  Clearly I wasn't worried about image here.  Look at my terrible hair!!!! LOL.

Predicament

I'm in a bit of a predicament these days.  My mom moved in with us at the end of October. The reasons are almost too many to run through, but suffice it to say, the last few years have not been prosperous for her.  She got evicted from her apartment and had nowhere to go.  What else could we do?

I can't remember a time when my mother and I were close.  I think that we must have been when I was little, but I have no memories of feeling great comfort or affection for her.  That sounds terrible, doesn't it?  It's one of those things I hesitate to write down.  I love her, because she's my mom, but we don't "click".  The episodes that led to the cementing of my ambivalent feelings toward her occurred when I was a young adult.  My parents divorced when I was18.  I was at UMASS, but my little brother and sister were at home to deal with it.  The year prior, my mom's mom dies, and my mom started to lose her grip on real life, it seemed like.  She started doing drugs, and had terrible boyfriends.  My Dad took the kids to Maine with him, and she went downhill from then on.  She blew through her inheritance, lost the house, lost her job, and then moved to Texas with a man who eventually knocked her teeth out and put her in a homeless shelter.

She came back to Massachusetts and started living with my Aunt.  During all this time, we occasionally chatted, but nothing of consequence.  I tried occasionally to bury the hatchet, but every time I did, my mom would just say something crazy.  It was hard for me to understand how the life she was living now was better than the one she had with my father.  

To make a 20 year long story fit into a space that someone might be able to read, I still wonder how she thinks her life turned out.  But you can't ask my mom questions.  She doesn't really answer them.  She talks, but she doesn't answer.  She's been diagnosed with some mood disorders, but won't take meds.  She never got her front teeth fixed.  She still asks and takes money from my father, even when she was living with her long time boyfriend.  She's been unemployed for 3 years.  When she moved in here, she'd go out for 30 minutes and apply for jobs.  She STILL hasn't applied to certain large jobs in the area.  She is routinely rude to people, but doesn't seem to know it. The other day she got her hair cut, and said to the woman at the end "Well, I could have done that".  

The fact that my Dad has supported her basically since the divorce kills me.  I know it's on my Dad- it's his decision.  But what about self respect?  I know I'm hard on her.  Since Jacob was born, I've tried to let go of the past, and just deal with her now.  I let her back into my life so Jacob could have a Nana, and so she could experience her grandson.  She barely saw him before she moved in.  She never had a truck to drive out here, and if she did, she had no gas money.  I didn't take it upon myself to bring him to her smoke filled apartment with her drunk, loud boyfriend.  

So now she's here.  She did a medical assisting school, but isn't getting placed anywhere, and honestly, I'd be surprised if she did.  Mike and I try and take advantage and get some us time while she's here, but feeding an extra mouth makes it less likely for us to splurge on a night out for ourselves.  I don't know what to do, or how long to let her stay.  I feel like a terrible daughter for even wondering.  But we can't have her here indefinitely.  It hasn't been positive for any of us.  How do you kick your mom out of your house, particularly if she literally has nowhere else to go?  We decided a year is fair...now we just need to broach the subject with her.  I am sure she will play the part of a victim, as always, but it's hard enough to keep our finances afloat without adding another.  She has a dog, who I have already spent about 100 bucks on for exams and shots.  It's not a huge amount, but it adds up.  

Mostly, I just wish I had a different relationship with my mom.  I know she is who she is, and I can't change that.  We are just so different.  We would never keep company with each other if we weren't related.  I suppose family is good for that...teaching you acceptance no matter what.  I just wish it was an Aunt or Uncle I was learning to accept no matter what...Not my mom.

Whining

I've been running for several years.  I dabbled in it pre-Jacob, but it was really after his birth that I got "serious" about it.  It helps me think.  It helps me feel strong.  What it hasn't done much of is help me lose weight.  The title of this post is whining for a reason.  I'm going to feel sorry for myself a little here.  Before my last round of fertility treatments, I had upped my mileage to almost 7 miles.  Last June I ran a 10k (6.2 miles) in about 65 minutes, which was awesome.  When we decided to re-start fertility treatments I had to stop running per order of the doctor.  None of that turned out too well, and I ended up losing what felt like all of my base fitness and started back again in November.  Since then, I've built back up to about 4.5 miles, but despite eating tons of salads (sans dressing, even) and soups, and cutting down carbs, my weight is holding steady at a place I don't want it.  I have PCOS, which makes it very hard for me to drop weight without the aid of medications.  But this time around, I want to do it myself.  I want to change my lifestyle and live healthier.  We are trying to eat less processed foods, and come springtime, will be buying into a CSA from a local farm.  I'm excited about these changes, and know that no matter what happens on the scale, they are the right things to do for me and my family....But WAHHH!!!!  Why do I have to work so much harder than everyone else at life?  Okay, Okay, I am being dramatic.  I know this.  But that is how it feels sometimes.

My friends and I are doing a Biggest Loser at work.  I am really trying hard to make changes.  There aren't a lot of things I can easily cut out.  I don't drink soda, I don't have chips in the house, I don't eat ice cream every night...Everyone else has something they can just magically whisk away and start dropping weight.  I know I shouldn't be focused on the numbers.  I DO feel healthier and stronger.  I take pride in knowing that I could whup most if not all of them on the road running.  It just stinks that I don't get to see outward results very easily, if at all.

Mike and I are going to do a "mud run" together this summer.  He literally will NOT have to train.  Somehow the man can go out and run 5 miles without having run a step in the prior 5 years.  He's genetically blessed in areas that I clearly am not.  We hope to have some friends join us in this.  I will need him there with me to convince me I can conquer the obstacles.  He is one of the few people in my life that gives me confidence when I feel like curling into a ball and hiding.  My Dad would be the other.  I will for sure need him to prop me up mentally when we get to the first obstacle!  He has also mentioned that he would like to set up a training course out on our back trails.  He really is awesome and amazing.

The other big goal in the back of my mind is a half marathon in September.  Come springtime I will gauge where I am at and decide if I want to proclaim my entry to it.  I really feel like I can make it happen barring any injury. The fact that I am even considering a Half Marathon is almost an accomplishment in and of itself.

I suppose I need to focus on all these positives (and there are quite a few).  I hope that if I just stay strong and steady, my body will slowly start to change itself for me.  If nothing else, I know I am making my heart stronger, and for a woman with PCOS, that is always important.  I'll talk more about PCOS at some point.  It's the bane of my existence, and this year I'd like to become more proactive in taking care of the symptoms naturally...

http://www.womenshealth.gov/publications/our-publications/fact-sheet/polycystic-ovary-syndrome.cfm

Torn

I've been thinking a lot about babies recently.  The journey to conceive Jacob was a difficult one.  It took almost 3 years to get pregnant...the pregnancy was fine, but the birth, recovery and ensuing 9 months post partum or so rocked me back on my heels pretty hard.

When we got married, I told Mike that I wanted 2 children.  After Jacob, he didn't pressure me or bring it up for about 2 years.  Then he started dropping hints.  I ignored them as long as I could, until I realized I needed to make a decision.  That fact, in and of itself, pissed me off.  I actively had to decide if I wanted to get back into treatment to potentially conceive another child.  Some people might say everyone has to make a decision to have another child, but for many people, that decision consists of throwing your pills out, or "forgetting" to take them for a couple weeks.  For others, it's a decision to have sex at the right time of the month.  Still others may have to time it with the addition of a fertility drug called clomid.  The list of possibilities goes on...but for me, the process is this.  Do I want to contact my fertility specialist and make an appointment for an u/s and bloodwork? Do I want to restart my metformin, which helps my PCOS, but gives me terrible stomach cramps, a feeling of general malaise, and blow out diarrhea for the next 3 months and birth control to help regulate my body? Do I then want to start estrogen tabs and go in for monitoring to be sure my uterine lining is thickening properly...and then if it is, begin intramuscular progesterone injections, and then finally my embryo transfer??  Oh, and then lastly, wait an everlasting 2 weeks before trudging in for a pregnancy test that you are both completely convinced is positive, and negative at the same time?  I don't get the luxury of just "trying and see what happens".  I don't get to throw my arms up in the air and leave it all to chance...

We made the decision in the summer of 2011 to do all that...again. It was more painful than I expected.  I thought the second time around was going to be a breeze.  I knew what to expect.  I had a child already.  Unfortunately, I was wrong.  It was almost worse this time.  Before we had Jacob, there was a desperation about me that made all the shots less painful.  Having Jacob at home made me resent the time the process took away from him.  It made me preoccupied, and the hormones made me crabby and short on patience.  I wondered if this was really what I wanted.  After all, if I did get pregnant and have a baby, all these things would occur more so, and for longer.  The progesterone shots were like acid injections, and I was sore almost immediately this time around.  I kept at it, and tried to stay strong and positive- I just knew it was going to work the first time around...

And it did.  My nurse called with my positive results in July.  But the numbers were low.  To make a long story short, it was what they call a "chemical pregnancy".  To be totally honest, I don't know how I felt.  I was sad.  I felt like I had failed Mike.  But on some personal level, I was a little relieved.  I needed more time.  We had 3 more frozen embryos left- did I want to try again right away, my nurse asked?  I did.  I had to go through another birth control cycle to settle my body down, and in September we were ready to roll again.  One of the embryos did not survive when they thawed, so they thawed another and transferred that.  Two more weeks...again, I got a call.  It was positive, but just barely.  Over the next month, I got dragged in and out of the lab for bloodwork, as my levels continued to rise appropriately, but stayed very low.  It was torture.  Some level of me wanted to believe it could work out, but the logical side of me knew something not good was brewing.  Sure enough, in October they diagnosed me with an ectopic pregnancy and I went in for a methotextrate shot.  All during this time I had to keep taking my progesterone shots, just in case.  I cried.  A lot.  The loss felt more real this time around.  I felt greedy.  I felt selfish.  I was scared.  Ectopic pregnancies can be dangerous- now I felt like an irresponsible mom, subjecting my body to known IVF risks even though I had a boy at home already that needed me.

And now here we are.  2012.  The chemotherapy drug has been in my body long enough that it is safe for me to try to transfer our last frozen embryo...but I don't know if we will.  Having one ectopic pregnancy greatly increases the risk for another.  I don't know if I can do it again.  I don't know that I want to.  I have a great family right now. I have a lot of freedom.  It's so easy to take Jacob somewhere.  Mike can go away for a weekend no problem- I can handle Jacob on my own, and vice versa.  And yet, I still feel guilty.  Is it wrong to not try harder for a sibling for Jacob?

I've asked him several times if he wants a baby brother or sister, or if he wants to be a big brother.  He has ALWAYS said no.  I know better than to listen to the words of a 2 1/2 or 3 year old, but it still always gave me pause.  Last month I asked him again...he told me, with indignance, and frustration (listen UP woman, for crying out loud) " No momma, I just want to be me.  Jacob Landon Perry"  I laughed, but I liked his point.  He'll be okay as an only child if that's what happens. He's an independent little guy, who has never been real cuddly.  Who's to say he actually wouldn't be happier without a brother or sister?

In any case- I'm torn.  I know Mike wants more children.  He's an amazing father, he ought to be able to exert his wonderful influence over numerous other children.  Alas, I am not the woman that can provide numerous children.  I see now that we are extra blessed that I was able to have one.  I see the questions in everyone's eyes when they see me with just one child.  I was asked insensitive questions when Mike and I were trying to conceive.  I thought they would end when we had a child, but now, instead of "When are you guys going to have a baby", it's "When are you going to give Jacob a sibling?" It's inferred that we are bad parents, selfish parents, abnormal parents, if we don't have another.

I don't know what our end result will be.  I don't know if we will try again, or move on with life for now.  I'm young enough that we could try again, from scratch, even if we waited another 3 years.  My little sister is 9 years younger than me, and I think it worked out great.  All I know is I love the family that I have fiercely right now, and that is what matters.  I want to live for today, not wonder what will be tomorrow.

Sick

My little guy is sick. We ended last week with terrible diarrhea and a trip to the doctor with orders to collect a stool sample...and in my efforts to feed him a safe, bland diet, he hasn't pooped since. Compounding the issue is his usual winter bout of croup. I heard it coming- he gets a froggy voice, and then the next couple nights are terrible. He's a repeat offender with croup- he gets it twice a year at least. Last year was the worst, with an emergency trip to the ER in New Hampshire on Mothers Day. We know what to do and when it is an emergency- we are well versed in all the nuances of croup...But that sure doesn't make it any easier to deal with. So far this particular episode has been manageable, not much stridor, no gasping for air episodes. I can only hope that as he gets bigger, he'll grow out of it, as "they " claim he will. I wonder about the root cause all the time. Is it our woodstove? Does he have a smaller windpipe than normal? They took radiographs in New Hampshire and didn't find anything alarming, but I still wonder.

His appetite is down, and he is afraid to eat too much- he worries out loud that he will throw up. It's just awful to see your child worry about stuff like that. He's had more than his fair share of puking episodes, some of which I think may be acid reflux related, but every time we get to the doctor, there is some other issue we deal with and I forget to mention it. Which of course, makes me a horrendous mother.

He's so big and tall that the doctor doesn't think there is anything serious going on- if there was he wouldn't be in the 97th percentile for height and off the charts for weight. But a mother can't help but worry, and I do think there is something going on that needs to be dealt with, I just can't put my finger on it.

Of course, it is a holiday weekend, and the doctors office is closed tomorrow. Mike has the day off and hopefully we can think of something fun to do together as a family. He's been working non stop on the railing for the upstairs he is making by hand. We drove out into the woods with the golf carts and cut down some beech trees and dragged them home on the top of the golf cart about 2 months ago. Ever since, he's been hand scraping the bark and sanding the spindles, railings, and posts. It looks magnificent. I will have to post some pictures when it is done. The man is truly incredible. I am so very lucky to have him as my husband.

All is quiet now. Jacob has fallen asleep, but no doubt will wake in a few hours due to a coughing fit. I should get some rest now so I can deal with it at 1 am.

Floundering

I have a moment. I'll update my blog, I decide confidently. Too bad I have no idea what to write about. Jacob is sick, or something resembling sick. He started this week with vomiting- which isn't atypical of him, and has ended it with terrible watery diarrhea. I finally make the decision to get him to the doctors, and of course, he's cured. He's hungry, and wants to eat and hasn't gone since I called the doctor. I am equipped with collection equipment, but he's not going. Of course. It feels like my life is full of shit at the moment. My kid, and when I am not home, I get to deal with it at work in animal form.

It's cold and windy today. Jacob is outside "helping" Mike fix the Subaru, and I am giving him time to get cold so I can drag him to either Wal Mart or Target to pick up slippers and other completely non- blog worthy material.

God this is an awful post. See what happens when I try and do something just because I have the time, and NOT because I am inspired on some level? I've got nothing else, so I'll end it now, with what little dignity I have currently remaining....

Ninth or Tenth times a charm?

Hey look. It's January, and I am thinking about logging my thoughts on a blog again. Turns out it's been THREE years since I last posted. It's hard to keep all these social genres going. Facebook obviously takes precedence- immediate gratification and all....

So. What are the social rules for a 3 year time lapse in writing? Do I explain (to myself, since no one else reads this) why I have been so lax? I mean, I think I know why. Something that stands a little over 3 1/2 feet tall and has made it abundantly clear that he runs the show now. Jacob, Jacob Jacob. He's a menace. He's a doll. He's manipulative and selfish, and loving and thoughtful- all at the same time. In short, he's a typical 3 1/2 year old. He's grown so much since my last post. Not much carrying him on my hip these days- after all he is almost 50 pounds of what seems like pure sinewy muscle (particularly if you are asking him to hold still for any reason). He is no doubt, the love of my life, and the bane of my existence. We are very similar, and if I don't repeatedly stop myself, we can easily butt heads and battle. I think he is teaching me how to be a better person, and I hope I am starting him off a little more educated in how to properly display a self righteous burst of outrage...Ummm...I mean, a more socially acceptable way to have a hissy fit...crap. Basically, I hope when he gets angry he doesn't dissolve into fits of frothing spit and bellyfuls of seething, raging fire as I was prone to as a young adult.

We've done a ton of fun things in the past 3 years. I want to do a lot of fun family stuff that I didn't necessarily get to do when I was little. I want him to want to travel and learn about our wonderful country, and see the world as well. He seems his best when we travel, so I don't think I'll have to nudge too hard. He loves to go new places, and I hope we can continue to afford the luxuries of travel we've been fortunate enough to experience so far.

Mike and I are doing better than ever. Having a little baby is stressful, and don't get me wrong, a toddler is no walk in the park, but being well rested for the most part really helps a relationship. He is a tremendous father- I always knew he would be- but as Jacob grows older, it becomes more and more apparent the amazing, wonderful qualities he is going to impart on our child. For now, I'll just ignore the less desirable qualities that may or may not go along with it...this is the first blog back, yeah? I feel like it should be a glowing review ;p

Thats all for now. I clearly can't catch up on the missing years, and I don't really want to. I am trying to be more "present" in the present this year. Lots of ideas that have been floating around in my head that need to take shape. Perhaps writing them down and making space for them will help. The written word is, after all, so much more powerful than those that meander about in time, scratching their meaning only into the backs of your eyeballs instead of going through that whole fancy process of being turned around from upside down in the retinas to rightside up in the brain, but that's just getting crazy, so I'll stop.