It really sucks to feel like a disposable camera. It's okay to forget that I'm around because I hold access to some insignificant, peripheral memories, and since there wasn't much invested in me, I am easily forgotten until needed and/or found again.

It often happens at this time of year that I have these feelings. There's nothing in particular happening but I feel like I'm on the outside looking in pretty much everywhere in my life. I don't know if that makes sense.

I imagine a big part of it is that with the big boys home ALL the time and (literally) all my friends' kids in camp, that I am out of the loop and dont get to see any of my friends right now. And, since most of my friends' kids go to the same camp, they are getting together and doing carpool and all the stuff that goes along with that. I'm fairly sure I remember feeling like this last year too.

So, all that to say, I just feel like a square peg in a round world right now. Superfluous, trivial and forgotten--perhaps even invisible.

I used to laugh at those fuzzy-headed, fuzzy-haired, crumpled women I would see in the grocery line...you know back in the day when I wore heels and skirts and hose to work. Then I got pg and the first thing that went were the hose, then the heels and then the skirts. Then the roots started to show and the manicures/pedicures started to get pushed. Finally, the chic clothes and awesome bags that were purchased for each season got stored or donated because they don't fit my hips and cant hold a diaper and wipes.

Somehow I became that crumpled, dishevelled woman that I used to laugh at. I have forgotten who I am and what I am interested in. I have to double and triple check whether the class at the local rec center is during a time where the kids are in school/camp because it's not worth it to pay $300 for a 6 week class and then spend an addition $200 on babysitting. By the time I've checked the calendar again, either the class is full, or I've found the registration materials in time for the last session.

Housework is my full-time job and when it's caught up, there's at least 3-7 half finished projects that I feel guilty that I'm not working on. None of the boys have scrapbooks, and I mostly forget who did/said what by the end of the day, so saving it for posterity and a good laugh ain't happening. I stripped Jonah's wallpaper about 2 months ago, but I still haven't finished spackelling and sanding the walls. I bought a skein of yarn and The Idiots Guide to Knitting and Crocheting around 7 weeks ago, and it's in a bag in my closet with all of the clothes that I've outgrown over the last 8 months.

Motherhood is the hardest job that I could ever imagine, and I thank God everyday that both my IRL and on-line friends are there for me, because you each make me feel like I'm not a failure for just being me.

Today I had my app't with the endocrinologist (I tried to leave it as endo, but I always read that as endometriosis now.) He took more blood and did a tyroid u/s. He wont up my synthroid dosage yet, because I've only been taking the 50mcgs for 3 days, but he believes that he'll up it back to where it was before my pg's. Also, he's testing me for insulin resistance which would also explain the weight-gain and is something that he said often occurs after having GD. I guess there's no speeding up this process, but at least I'm in action about it working with a dr that seems to be very pro-active and agressive, which fits perfectly with my temperment.

Today was one of those days that shouldn't have happened at all. Mom & Dad have been out of town for a week. Got a call from Mom first thing, as expected, but her voice is wrong. She says "You must have been at the bus stop when I called a few minutes ago." Another flag, since my mother doesn't call before 8, and the timestamp on the message is 7:19.

What's going on, Mom?

And then, smack, "Gloria called."

"Did Loy die?"

"No, Melanie and the baby. "

"Car accident?"

"No, embolism. "

Who the fuck dies of an aeortic embolism at 38, when you're 36 weeks pregnant with your first baby?!?!

What kind of fucked up, cruel--no evil--joke is that for her husband and parents? So, while this wont impact my life on a daily basis, I'm just left trying to process it all. I'm angry and confused and not sure where to put all of these emotions, since these people were not a big part of my life, but I'm sure acting like they are.

I know that Mom keeps thinking of me when she thinks of Melanie, and it's kind of creepy. Hell, I keep thinking of me when I think of this.

It doesn't help the directive for happiness was mandated yesterday.

Another year gone, and I feel like it's exactly where I left off last time. We're quickly approaching Thanksgiving, Evan's 4th and Jonah's 6th. It really has all blurred into a dull tableau, quoting Barenaked Ladies.

We moved over the summer, a great big, bold move into a fabulous house. And then, Chris took a new job and I'm house-hunting...but this time in PA. How am I, a southern-raised belle, going to make it up north--again. College was one thing. At Michigan, I was expected to branch out, be crazy, and do stupid things and people to stay warm (I need to stop smiling, Chris will think I'm looking at porn).

No, now I am going up north with three kids in tow, and the way to stay warm is wearing flannel underwear. How the hell do you potty train a kid when they're under 4 layers, including a snow suit? Leo, you've got to hold it dear. Mommy, will get you out of there in 10 minutes...

But, Jonah is getting angrier and angrier that Chris is away, and I am getting more and more resentful that he thinks that coming home is like staying at a 2-star hotel. He jokingly complains about the lack of attention and how the beds aren't made with turn-down service, but there's some annoyance in his voice. He jokes "This hotel sucks", but it's just one more time I'm reminded that my life is about making him and the other boys in this house happy, and that I am failing.

Forget making myself happy. I've forgotten how to be happy.

We just had a fight about that.

Him: "You're like living with a dead person. I am tired of picking you up and trying to revive you."

Me, glaring, thinking "fuck you": "Uh huh."

Him: "You've been like this for the past 5 years, and you need to stop it now. I am tired of it."

Me, glaring, thinking "fuck you": "Okay"

So, now the mandated happiness must begin. But, again, how to find it, is beyond me.

Maybe a shake-up of moving to PA proportions is what I need.

All I can tell you is that I was super careful with Jonah...no sugar, dairy, egg, p'butter, etc. per the AAP recommendations. I was so good. And then, he hit 2 and was pulling and chewing stranger's gum from the bottom of the restaurant tables and sneaking sips of root beer and I realized that it didn't kill him....I was dealing with my cranky Evan, putting out the fire in front of me, not the one behind my back, and I've just been more relaxed about it since. Chris calls it second-child abuse. And, it's gotten even more lax with Leo.

HOWEVER, these are my choices NOT my IL's or my folks. And, yes, often I feel guilty about the fact that Leo has had birthday cake before his 1st birthday, and that he eats Eggo waffles (not the sugar-free, made-from-scratch that I used to make for Jonah), and that he gets to drink diluted juice. There are still boundaries and things that I can't abide like last week when my MIL stuck her finger in diet Sprite before putting it in Leo's mouth to calm him, I came fu*king unglued.

The whole concept of limiting sugar and being vegetarian is foreign...like from a distant galaxy, to them. These are the quintiscential meat & potatoes folk: hashbrowns, bacon, sausage for breakfast, hamburgers and fries for lunch and pork ribs with whipped potatoes for dinner, all served with sweet tea or a big glass of Pepsi. I try to make smarter choices for all the boys. They need this for the now and the future.

I have so much to beat myself up for as a parent--I yell too much, I threaten too much, I let my kids watch way too much television. And the thing I hate most of all is that I use spankings to discipline. As a parent, all the things I would measure myself on, I am a failure...and everyday I wake up and promise myself to do better. And I continue to fail.

But, I love my children and I make sure that they know, above all, that I love them, unconditionally. Every night I sing them to sleep to "You Are My Sunshine" as I rub their hair. Parenting is far harder than I ever expected it to be, and I just want them to be happy, smart, loving, respectful boys. I think I'm at least accomlishing a little of that.

Today is mom's birthday. We're going to their club for dinner tonight, and then afterward, Chris should be home. I bought her a cute little gift, not that I remember what it is, but I remember thinking, "Oh she'll like this." It's pitiful that I did this about 4 hours ago, and the memory of it is lost in the ether.

I really need to sleep tonight; thank God I'm still annoyed with Chris. I can sleep without the welcome home sex.

I am tired. I am so tired. I don't know why I'm not sleeping these days. I can barely keep my eyes opened through the day, and then I'm up until 2 am at bedtime. Chris is coming home tomorrow and I can't wait. Although, I am a little annoyed by our end-of-day conversation... something about some woman trying to pick him up. I still haven't figured out why he led me down the path he did, and then left me hanging with this feeling like it was circumstance and not me (or our marriage) that had him walking away. Prick.

I'm going to watch Conan now and maybe get a few hours of shut eye.

I wish that Chris wasn't going to be gone to Washington, DC for the next year. It's been hard to have him gone, and it's hard to imagine that he's going to be gone even longer. Hopefully we'll catch a break here soon and that at least some of the deal will get paid now. A little help with the kids and the house would lighten my load. It wont replace having Chris here, but it would help with what has to get done here.

"...A hoe was a hoe;
A coke was a coke;
Cracks what you were doing,
when you were cracking jokes.

A screw was a screw;
The wind was all that blew;
And when you said "I'm down with that",
Well it meant you had the flu..."

I am currently loving the new Tim McGraw CD. I would love to go back to those days Back When too. Somehow it was all so much easier in my imagination of life when I grew up. I'd have a handsome husband (done), we'd have a great family (done), we'd be more than comfortably wealthy (undone). Finally, I'd be vibrant, thin, beautiful, intellectual and have a great handle on the house, the kids and current events (pipedream).

I'm getting ready to go color the gray out of my hair, so much for the ideal adult world of my youth. I can promise you that no where in my perfect future were gray hair, stretch marks, boobs that sagged to my waist, wrinkles, and crying jags about what a shit mother I am.

My kids never cried, talked back, hit other kids, wrote on the walls with Sharpie marker, or woke up in the middle of the night. My friends were all in my corner and we were all each others cheerleaders and strength. My husband made shitloads of money, working 9-5, and was always home to the perfect gourmet, vegetarian dinner that I prepared. My little utopia. Maybe I'll dream of it tonight.

So, I guess that it's now up to every 6 months that I get to drop everything and take a few minutes to write, vent and regroup. It's been a very fast 6 months, I have to admit. I don't know how I am saying that since every day seems like an eternity. With every day seeming that long, I'd expect that the time would have dragged...but it doesn't on the whole. I have had so much happen since March.

First, of course, Leo arrived. He's a perfect little guy with all of his Daddy's blue eyes, blonde hair and incessant need to be toted and doted. I don't know how I got a third that expects to be carted around like the princely first, but I did. He's a really good boy, though. I just hope that he develops a stronger sense of independence...or I'll be buying his way out of high school.

Jonah has been doing much, much better in all areas. He's matured and not so aggressive these days. I worry about him as I don't think he's terribly social...a little too wierd for other kids. I hope to see that he develops some good friendships in the next few months. His teacher says that all the other kids love him. I see a lot of Chris in him. Jonah loves to be the center of attention, but he doesn't really let other kids in. And, they don't seem to want to play with him one-on-one.

Evan is a fucking handful. Don't get me wrong. That kid has more strength of will in his little finger than everyone else in this house combined. He's amazing--and so smart. I knew that he was the one that I would have to watch out for, and that's proving to be an accurate, and frightening premonition. He's headstrong, mouthy, cute, bossy and has a frigging intellect that will do him well if he can harness it.

I'm not in the best space right now; I'm having a tough time with finding my place in the world. I know that sounds wierd, but I am having a time of it with my group of friends. I just feel like I'm stagnating in this little pool of gossip and nitpicking. I don't know if I'm communicating this right, but I just dont want to be tied to these folks. Not that I want to forget them or stop talking to them entirely, but there's not much new to say, and I am tired of the same old conversations (whose kid is signed up for what sport, where to have lunch, what kind of annoying thing did your kids do this morning, what are you getting for Chanukkah, what kind of car is your husband getting when his lease is up). It's all about money, how much you have and how to flaunt it.

With Chris travelling like he does, I just have been relying more heavily on my friends for adult conversation, and it just isn't happening, and I find myself less and less fulfilled.

My life as a stereotype

I know that I've been back on here and posted. Maybe I didn't publish too? I don't really know what I am doing, so this is all kind of hit or miss.

I only have a few more weeks of non-infant time left. Leo is coming sooner rather than later, six weeks or so, and I am wondering what I did. I have no patience for anything at this point, not my children, my husband, my animals, or my body for that matter. I am seriously wondering if I have lost my fucking mind....

Today is another exciting day of Burger King and playing. Hopefully my oldest will keep his hands to himself and we'll be able to stay. He's been such a handful. I don't know if it's really him, or if it's me. Lord knows I have no tolerance for anything that doesn't go exactly as I want it to.

The 2 year old is a fine example of "monkey see/monkey do" in perfect combination with the terrible 2's. It is really ugly around here most days. Right now they're wrestling on the floor--and I am hoping that there's no blood when all is said and done. I am done being in the middle of it...they can fight it out.

We're going to have the eldest evaluated for Sensory Integration Dysfunction, because he's having some serious difficulties at school. Enough such that the school called in a social worker for an independent evaluation. He's the one who suggested the whole SI evaluation. I've finally made some phone calls about it, but I'm not really planning on doing anything until school ends in the middle of May. I figure it will be early to mid June before the evaluation is completed.

The scary thing is that I see the little one acting just like the big one. Hands over the ears with each little noise, the belligerent attitude, the high energy, the extremely physical play. I don't know if it's just the way we're raising them, or if I make defective little boys. Great, something else to obsessively beat myself up over.

It's been a long while. A very long while as I am half way through this pregnancy. I'm 19 weeks and feeling like a moron for doing this again. It's exactly 4 months since I wrote the last blog. Apparently I didn't need to have sex that night, because I got pregnant anyway--and who can remember if I actually had sex then or not. Checking on the Fertility Friend website, I apparently did have sex.

We found out by accident that it's another boy. I will be the Queen Bee in the house, with much raging testosterone for all. Chris seemed a little disappointed. But, when he figured out that he had a built-in 4-some for golf, he immediately perked up.

We're having his folks here for Christmas this year. I couldn't bear the thought of travelling. Jonah has been a pill lately, and disrupting his surroundings would have just compounded the issues.

Have you ever noticed the way that your darling spouse can be so frigging subversive? We've been trying for 4 months now for another baby. The thing that kills me is that my darling husband thinks I'm still 18 and can get pregnant by just looking at me. What the fuck? He knows that there are only a few days--and sometimes a few hours-- that I can get knocked up, and yet he's playing this power game with me. What man declines sex?

We skipped screwing last night. He didn't feel well. I think he's hitting that "what have I done with my life" and "what do I have to show for it" thing. I think between getting ever closer to 40 and somethings going on with his family that he's having a pity party and taking it out on everyone around him. It really stinks for the boys--they don't understand why daddy is being a short-tempered asswipe.

Personally, the thought of screwing him when he's like this isn't appealing at all...but let's face it. This will all blow over in a few days or weeks and then I'll be sad that we missed the opportunity this month. I'm planning on getting back on track tonight. Screw him if he doesn't want to fuck. I'm not in the mood to be nice about it.

It has just been a long few days with the testosterone blues in my house.

Today is another in a long line of what-the-fuck-am-I-going-to-do-with-the-kids-today days. I cannot wait until school begins. They're so bored and I can't watch another episode of Rugrats. Maybe the airport to watch the airplanes or the train...we'll see.

More later.

Okay, so I am a caricature of the suburbanite mom. My kid plays soccer, my other is toddling around pressing the key fob to my minivan and I'm crazy enough to want a third. My two favorite websites are www.flylady.net and www.fertilityfriend.com. What happened to the cool, hot, hippy chick that used to go to bed at 6am? I think I've died and gone to my own worst Hell. The weird thing is, I wouldn't change it for the world.

I almost feel a little guilty that this is here and that I can just dump. Dump to my heart's content and not really give a good Goddamn who sees it. Sometimes it's nice to not be so nice. Uck--the cat's hauling up a frigging hairball. Now that I know that this is here, I'll be writing all the time. For now, it's Resolve carpet cleaner, a glass of merlot and bed.