3 Month Old Baby

So. My baby is 3 months old now. There’s a lot of things that I felt and thought immediately after the birth of my daughter. I wasn’t sure how to share those feelings though or even if I should. The last thing I needed at that point in time was to be judged. Then again, I might have gotten support from an unlikely source if I had just reached out for it. Either way it’s a moot point because my baby girl turned 3 months old on the 12th.

My little puddin’ showed up fashionably late, almost 5 hours after her due date. 😉 She weighed 9 pounds 3 ounces and she nurses magnificently. Her labor was relatively easy but I don’t know if that’s because it was actually easy or because I didn’t go in until the very end so no one was able to tell me how hard it was. Either way the back labor was most certainly worse than the contractions.

The past 3 months haven’t been as…..pleasant as I’d always dreamed them to be. This comes from a mix of actual reality, stepparenting shenanigans and depression dalliances. But either way you slice it, we made it, we’re here and we’re just making it work.

She cracks me the hell up. Seriously my baby is the funniest person I know. My husband comes home soon and I’m going to have to share her with him. I should be excited about that but honestly I’m not quite ready for that. I like holding all the cards and making all of the decisions. (Not that I’m not keeping him in mind but…he’s not actually here to voice a disagreement if he were to have one.)

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I Give World, I Give

So we’ve been dealing with all of this stuff with M and getting custody of him. Mr. G’s command won’t give him leave unless he has a court hearing to attend so it’s been stressful but it’s been what it is. The past couple of times we went to see M/go to court, we were supposed to be driving Mr. G’s car but we can’t because the state of Minnesota keeps getting his orders and not realizing what they are. So they’ve chucked them. When you add up the express postage to and from MN TWICE we could have just paid full price for the damn tags already. Especially when you add up the rental fees from having to rent a car to get to M because my car can’t make the trip.

 

We’re also PCSing. Packout is June 20th. We’ve gotten some stuff to work on the yard but we still need to replace a door, handle the coat hanger in the drain sitch, and patch up some plaster from where the house has settled (it was buillt in the 1960s). That’s all prep that has to be done before we rent it out. There’s still cleaning and sorting that has to be done, including the scanning of all of our documents because we’ve lived together for 5 years and never had a real filing system. I mentioned my car earlier well I need to replace an O2 sensor in it and do something about the oil. We have to go get M June 6th and take him back July 10th. (We still need to contact the court about scheduling a hearing before Mr. G leaves to set up M’s care in the event that something happens with his grandfather.) There’s all of this money that has to come from somewhere. Even with our tax return (where we claimed neither of the children btw) and me getting school money we’re still in need of substantial funds to get all of this done. (Although we’ve gotten a LOT done. Stuff to get the yard under control, parts for Mr. G’s car, bills, loans paid on so on and so forth.) We just…between not planning as well as we could have and then this court thing dragging out way longer than we were told to expect it’s a hard row to hoe.

 

Oh and we’re still not pregnant. And I know I should NOT care about that right now but I do. A lot. And I feel like maybe I’m not ovulating because I’m fat or maybe there’s too much scar tissue due to the abortion and I missed my chance and I just suck. And it makes me sad. Like miserable. But that’s such a small issue that I feel like sharing it would make me a jerk.

 

I’m just drowning. And I’m by myself. No matter how much of a good friend I am or how much I help others people are always busy when I need help and that’s just life. I’ve got me and myself and that’s it. When shit hits the fan and it gets harder you’re the only person you can count on. So right now I’m drowning. And without heartfelt texts or emails from friends, without handouts or assistance I’m gonna swim to the shore, get out and shake off the water and then keep trucking. But right this second? I’m drowning.

Take Care Of Yourself

The other day I came across this post written by Kris, a former military spouse who is married to a great guy who just happens to be bipolar. Her oldest daughter has already grasped a skill that so many adults forget to make time for. Every now and again we all just need to take a moment and just be us.The world can make so many demands of a person. As a student, as a wife, as an employee….someone is always there with their hand out. And somedays it’s hard.

I hope that one day taking time to remember who me is will be something I don’t think twice about.

Lazy Sundays

My husband is naked. I am wrapped up in a cotton blanket toga style. I enjoy watching it trail behind me like an evening gown.

We’re watching a variety of shows and I’m reading while he’s playing games on the Xbox.

There are dirty dishes in my sink and my floors are appalling. However today is just what I needed. As I’ve stated multiple times over I live with a mental illness. Sometimes it’s hard to be on top of it all and it makes the anxiety worse especially if I feel like I’m failing. A good rest day is always key to making me realize what’s important and what to let go of.

Choices

Everyone has choices. And options. And all of mine are spinning around and around in my head. I can’t shut it up and I can’t pick a path. My fear of doing the wrong thing is my greatest enemy. And it’s just this giant ass loop of “omg how is this gonna go” and “holy fuck it’s been 6 months”. I’m just…I’m burned out by my thoughts. There’s just too many of them and it’s not like all of this obsessing is going to do anything to help me.