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Hola!

Long time, no see. I took an unexpected break since I went into an awful funk back in March. Depression pretty much body slammed me and put me in a headlock for a bit. It was being such a dick but I’m slowly climbing out of the hole I was in.

With my 6 year-old being on summer break and the chaos of moving last month and endless unpacking, I haven’t had much time… to pull my ass away from marathons of The Walking Dead and the delicious show, UnReal.

I’m hoping to get back into the swing of things once the hummingbird goes back to school in a few weeks. When she started kindergarten last year, I was freaking the hell out because Oh my god, my baby is growing up!!! But now, I’m counting down the days until she starts 1st grade.

I want to break out the hard liquor, get some glow sticks, and have myself a dance party on that glorious day.

Who am I kidding? I’m going to cry like a fucking baby because Oh my god, my baby is growing up!!!

I came across this video with Joseph Gordon-Levitt and it is glorious. “I’m sorry I ruffled your duvet but I had to work on that bootay”.

Enjoy!

What were you up to this summer? Has your sanity been hanging by a thread from summer vacation?

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Hyperemesis Gravidarum

Since I had hyperemesis gravidarum with my first pregnancy, with the little hummingbird, I’ve called it “that Harry Potter sounding spell”. I’ve since had it with each pregnancy and let me say this.

It is NOT “bad morning sickness”.

HG isn’t anywhere in the same category. One of the ways that I’ve tried to describe it to my husband is that it’s like comparing a paper cut on your finger to breaking your hand.

I much rather refer to hyperemesis gravidarum as extreme pregnancy sickness. Not that morning sickness is a walk in the park but HG is horrible and something I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

While I was thankfully never hospitalized for it, last year when I was pregnant, it was agony for many months. The only thing that I could really keep down was iced tea lemonade and I remember how my ob/gyn became really concerned when I lost over 10 pounds in just a few weeks.

As far as my experience with it, something as simple as water is completely and utterly repulsive when you have HG. Even smelling water was horrible. Yes, water had a smell to me.

Sounds and movement even aggravate HG. Like when I would lay on the couch and my daughter would hop around by me. I would be in agony. Or I would still be in bed and my husband would be talking to the hummingbird and his deep voice would seem amplified and actually make me sick.

Hyperemesis gravidarum is like when you drink too much and get the spins and say “I’m never drinking again”. But instead, you have this awful motion sickness feeling 24/7 for several months.

Pregnancy should be such a happy time. Being excited about seeing the beautiful life that you’ve created and hopeful when it comes to the future with your child.

Every single day, I felt like I wanted to die when it came to having HG. Sure, I thought I would die because of how sick I felt. But at times, I would think being dead would be much better than dealing with the day-to-day sickness that was completely overwhelming when it comes to having hyperemesis gravidarum.

The so-called “happy time” in my life was such a nightmare for me. I tried everything possible to help with this awful pregnancy sickness. I’m allergic to the more common anti-nausea medication but would take another kind and still, it did very little to ease the HG.

Nothing helped my issue with hyperemesis gravidarum.

I have given so much thought when it comes to having another child because of dealing with hyperemesis gravidarum. It’s truly the hardest decision I’ve had to make. Especially with having a 6 year-old to care for.

Despite wanting to have another child more than anything in the world, having HG with my last pregnancy was more brutal than the previous times and that concerns me.

Time is ticking away to try one last time. I’ve been trying to convince myself that it will be perfectly fine if I just have one child. It makes me feel ungrateful at times to want another, especially when so many people go through heartache and many years to try for a baby.

But honestly, I long to have another child… even if it means my head will be in the toilet for 9 months.

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Purrell Force Fields Would Really Come In Handy

Just when I felt like my writing mojo was finally coming back, time hasn’t been on my side. FYI, this post isn’t for sensitive stomachs.

The hummingbird has gotten sick countless times since she started Kindergarten. It’s one of the germiest places, apparently.

My 6 year-old has a few weeks left of school but has gotten two different ailments in the past two weeks. Last weekend, she had a stomach bug. I felt like I won the not very pukey child award prior to this since she hasn’t been much of a thrower upper. That’s a word.

Sure, she’s done it every now and then but nothing too bad.

Until last week.

After catching vomit in various ways… cupping hands, getting a giant bowl, grabbing her and sprinting to the bathroom, etc… I feel like I should get a barf badge to sew on my Brownie sash from when I was in the 4th grade.

Better yet, all new parents should be given a sash so we can receive badges for the milestones we go through with our children.

Pumping breast milk and accidentally spilling that precious liquid gold? There’s a badge for that.

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Potty training your child? There’s a badge for that.

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Surviving Toddler PMS without going through with your plans of running away from home? Get out the sewing kit… because there’s a badge for that.

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My husband ran and got a bowl. A tiny, little bowl that would be more suitable for a kitten with a hairball. He must have noticed my death stare because he said “What?”

And then we had a conversation I never thought we’d have. The conversation about what bowl would be best for Little Miss Pukey.

My husband’s side of it was any bowl is suitable and he had grabbed a bowl which he uses to take his lunch to work sometimes. Gag. But my side was the bigger the bowl, the better to catch any and all kinds of puke. And it would need to be a bowl we would never, ever, ever use again. But, it would be put in the medicine and towel closet and forever be known as the puke bowl.

I can’t believe we discussed this either.

These are only stunt bowls but the size I grabbed is on the left. My husband’s is on the right.

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So, I carried this bowl around wherever the hummingbird went for the next few days while she was home from school. At least it was better than using my hands or having vomit all over my shirt.

The bird was finally feeling better and finished out the school week. Yay!

And then she got sick again. Fuuuck. Of course it was on a weekend.

Her pediatrician has walk ins during the week for only half an hour at the ass crack of dawn. So, off we went. Things seemed to be looking up and then her doctor did a test.

A few minutes later, it came back positive for step throat. Fuckity fuck.

Poor kid.

After the pukefest and strep and all the school she’s missed this year, we can kiss that perfect attendance award goodbye. But really, how in the hell do some kids never miss one day of school from Kindergarten to their Senior year?

Are they surround by some protective barrier we can’t see? A Purrell force field perhaps.

I should start working on that before the hummingbird starts first grade. Wrap her in bubble wrap to prevent bumps, bruises, and scratches, put her in a hazmat suit with a built-in alarm system, and have a Purrell force field follow her everywhere she goes.

Then, I may not be so freaking anxious whenever she’s not in my care.

Who am I kidding? I’ll always be that way.

What kind of parenting badges would you like to receive?

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I’m Not Really Sure What I’m Trying To Say Or If I Even Have A Point So, I Guess It’s Like Anything Else I Write On Here

Obviously, I haven’t been as dedicated to my blog in the last year as I was for the first 4 years. And I’ve been trying to figure out why because I really miss it. I’m still writing but not on here very often. But the other week it hit me. It’s self-doubt, among some other things.

Yes, I may sound like a whiny bitch but when I came across some things last summer about people doubting I was ever pregnant with my son that I lost last year or if I’m even a mom at all what the fuckity fuck?!, that just put a bad taste in my mouth when it comes to writing on my blog and over sharing. I just felt like “fuck this”. I know I’m way too sensitive but it’s hard to accept that there are people like that out there. If I read something I don’t like on a blog, I move on and don’t rip that person to shreds. Especially since there are a billion other blogs to read.

No, not everyone has to love me or what I write but damn, I openly share these things about myself because not only do I feel better when I’m so open… it’s kind of like therapy, I know what it feels like to think you’re the only person out there who’s going through depression, anxiety, the what the fucks of parenting and motherhood, and figuring out what the hell is up with this husband guy I live with and his never ending snoring and grinding of his teeth and lack of talking or talking too much when I have that special one night a year to enjoy The Oscars and the butthead talks all the way through the ceremony and I want to punch him in the balls. Really, hubby? Really? You rarely talk as it is but talk nonstop the one time of year when I’d prefer your usual silence??

So, yeah. I used to think my blog was a safe haven in a way but since last year, I worry about anything I may write and what may possibly be picked apart elsewhere.

But I know I should say fuck it. This type of thing comes along with the territory although knowing there’s a site out there specifically to rip apart women bloggers is unsettling.

The grief I’ve been experiencing more and more from the loss of Ben has also had such an effect on my desire to write. His first birthday would have been June 4th and the closer that date comes, the harder it is to get my ass out of bed and somehow function as best as I can.

We also recently found out that while we have one more year in Maine, the owners are coming back this summer and we have just a few months to find a house, pack, and move by July. And since my husband will be retiring from the Navy next summer, we then have to move again to what we hope will be our permanent home somewhere on the west coast.

I’ve logged into my blog many times to write about each of these things but since knowing that whatever I write may be put under a microscope by others and judged, it sucks. And to be blunt, it’s very hurtful.

But then I think there may still be those who actually read what I write because they like it. At least I hope they do. And that’s exactly who I should put my focus on.

It’s so true how you can have people say 10 positive things about you but it’s the one negative thing that will be what sticks out in your mind.

I need to stop thinking about those who will always have negative things to say or may hate read my blog.

I need to go back to writing the way I used to. Writing without having all of this self-doubt about how others will perceive it.

Fun little fact… I took an Ambien an hour ago so if this doesn’t make a smidgen of sense, there you go!

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Fun With Words

After becoming a mom, I found that there’s a lot of multi-tasking and juggling to the point where your brain gets so overloaded with all of the things you need to do, places you have to go, and that damn Elsa crown you’re being begged to find in a sea of toys.

I’ll get to sorting all of this stuff out in my brain, then I’ll see something shiny and get distracted. After a few minutes, okay… longer, I often find myself thinking “Wait. What the fuck was I supposed to be doing??!” It won’t be until 10 minutes go by that the hummingbird yells “MOM? Did you find Elsa’s crown? MOM? I still haven’t gotten the glass of water you were getting me after lunch.”

Then I think “Oh, shit! Yeah. She asked me for a glass of water an hours ago. Ooops.”

Do I have a point to this? No. No, I don’t.

Anyway…

When you have a kid, your privacy and dignity go out the window. Forever gone. Thankfully, there are those times when your child gives you a good laugh and helps even things out. The hummingbird is now 6 and since Kindergarten, it’s amazing how she’s grown mentally and emotionally.

You think they grow fast when they’re babies but damn, when they start school, it’s at lightening speed. Which is great. Yep, it’s wonderful. Fabulous.

Excuse me while I go cry in the corner and bang my hands and feet on the floor, screaming “Why, sweet baby jeebus? WHY?!”

My baby girl is becoming a young lady. Fuuck.

The hummingbird may seem so grown up at times and her speech has greatly improved (while those aspects of myself seem to be deteriorating), she can still act like a silly, wild little hummingbird.

She always seems to ask why things are the way they are and may need help about what some words and sayings mean and that’s when the funny ensues.

Here are some examples of words and sayings she can mispronounce or might not be clear on.

Apple Dumplings = Apple Ducklings

Heartbeat = Heartbeep

Breakfast = Breksfust

And my favorite… chocolate = cocklate. Yes, cocklate (cock-let). It’s get me every time.

*At the check out in the store*

“Mom? Can I have some COCKLATE? Please?! That can be my only treat today. Pretty please? I’d really like some COCKLATE.

Inside, I’m laughing my ass off. When I can contain myself, I’ll say it back correctly. “Are you sure you want some chocolate for your treat?”

“Yes! Please? I really, really, really, really, really would like some COCKLATE.”

So, yeah. It’s funny and endearing to see that she is still little and won’t be learning to drive or moving into her own apartment next week, which is what it can feel like to me sometimes.

Recently, for an after school snack, she asked for a lightly toasted bagel with cream cheese.

But my 6 year-old asked for a “Politely toasted bagel with cream cheese.”

In the past several months, I would think she would soon grow out of her love of talking about poop, farts, and burps. Thankfully, I was wrong… for now.

Last night while cuddling, this went down and it’s actually a more frequent conversation that can last a few minutes.

Hummingbird: I farted while I was burping. Did you hear it?

Me: No.

Hummingbird: Do you smell it now?

Me: Nope.

Hummingbird: How about now? ……

It never crossed my mind that with all the things that motherhood entails, “fart smeller” would be one of them.

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Being Baby: Zombies Are More Rested Than You’ll Be

The little hummingbird will be turning 6 next month. 6!! So, recently I’ve been thinking more about my past experiences with her and each stage she’s gone through up until now.

Did I mention she’ll be 6 soon? 6! What the hell?! The time really does go by way too fast. Although, at the same time, it can feel like it’s going by way. too. slow.

Then BAM! Your kid seems to grow overnight.

Babyhood – Looking back, I wish I paid much more attention. Or maybe it’s the exhaustion that makes this age a blur. I wish I wasn’t so hard on myself and the fact that I always compared myself to other moms.

The new mothers that would say motherhood is “the best thing ever” while I would have plenty of moments where I would cry or feel depressed and overwhelmed.

The new mothers that seemed to make it look so easy and effortless while I was frazzled.

No matter how much I tried to prepare myself when it came to being a parent, in reality it was learning as I go. It’s still like that and probably always will be.

Once you feel like you have this shit down, the fruit of your loins won’t get the memo and will change things up no matter how old they are.

Your baby is sleeping through the night? Maybe not in a few weeks.

Your baby loves a specific food? Ha! That may be all they want but out of nowhere, they’ll be like nope, no way, not gonna eat it.

Sleep – Zombies are more alert than parents who have a newborn.

Sanity – You’re running on adrenaline and have every single emotion there is. Sanity is unlikely at this age.

Lows – Being sleep-deprived, not sleeping, lack of sleep, crazy hormones.

Highs – Having it sink in that you created a little human, the love that develops, the first smile, the first everything.

Unwanted advice that made me want to stab everyone that would tell me this – “Sleep when the baby sleeps.” Much easier said than done. When my child would actually sleep, I had shit to do. Things like endless laundry, trying to finally eat at the end of the day as fast as possible and discovering that I can shove half an El Monterey bean and cheese burrito in my mouth. Taking a fast shower. Staring at my newborn while she slept, despite having shit to do. Being able to have 5 seconds to pee.

This age was a lot harder for me than I thought it would be. Being in charge of a tiny, helpless baby can be stressful and you may feel like it won’t get easier. Okay, so it may never be easy but they grow and as cliché as this is, you learn to expect the unexpected.

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10 More Signs That You Have A Little Girl

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Little girls seem to have a superpower. They can turn you into a puddle with their sweet, little voice which can cause the inability for you to say no. Your house may look like a stuffed animal, princess dress, and Hello Kitty factory blew up. Check out part one here.

10. Glitter – I banned glitter from the house while my 5 year-old was still in utero. Yet, glitter seems to appear out of nowhere.

9. Band-aids and stickers – You will see things tagged around the house with these items. Whether it’s her stuffed animals to my hair shine spray. There is currently a snowman sticker staring at me on the wall by the office door.

8. Tutus – Your little girl may acquire a crazy amount of tutus like mine. They take up two of her dresser drawers and that’s still not enough room.

7. Princess clothing – Before motherhood, I wasn’t going to let my kid be a walking billboard for Disney princesses or any other cartoon character. Ha! Little girls just like little boys I’m sure, will somehow sucker you into buying some hot at the moment cartoon character clothing item. It can include t-shirts, dresses, shoes, socks, etc.

6. You usually have missing couch cushions because hello, pillow forts – Once your child reaches a certain age, you will probably have a few, if not all, couch cushions missing most of the time for their fort.

5. Dad’s a boy… yuck – Your daughter may have her dad wrapped around her finger but soon she’ll understand that he’s a stinky, loud, gross boy like the ones in her kindergarten class. Ewww.

4. Princess dress up – Despite having a princess dress for every day of the week, it still won’t be enough for your little girl. You or your husband are also bound to accidentally step on and break a tiara and will have to endure the drama of the incident that only little girls can bring.

3. Tea parties – I don’t care who you are, you have to stop everything and drink your daughter’s pretend strawberry surprise tea and fake chocolate chip cookies with rainbow sprinkles.

2. You need the same color cups and dishware on hand – When your little girl has play dates at your house, save the trouble and your sanity by having the same color or design. If not, you may have an intense stand-off over who gets the “Elsa blue” cup or the polka-dot plate. Trust.

1. She’s your sweet girl one minute and a kid with major attitude the next minute – No matter how well-mannered and sweet your child is, they can turn into whiny, foot stomping, door slamming little monsters in the blink of an eye and you’ll wonder what happened to your adorable child while also thinking you may need to have an exorcism for them.

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