Owwww

So, I started a workout and diet regimen.  I think I might be dying.

Okay, maybe I'm not dying, but O. M. G.

I gave up carbs.  I WANT BREAD so badly.  Like I dream about quesadillas and Subway.  And I gave up sugar (except for my coffee creamer).  I want ICE CREAM.  I'm not kidding.  I'm feeling like all I want are things that are bad for me.  Isn't that supposed to go away?  Aren't you supposed to happily crave all things good after a little bit?  Yeah, not happening here.  I want all the fatty, carby things.

I started the Bikini Body Mommy 90 day challenge.  I joined on day 15, so it's really the 75 day challenge for me.  You know that awesome sore from working out that makes you feel so good?  Good hurt?  I don't have that.  I am hobbling.  As of today I have shin splints.  I am MISERABLE.

I hate my body.  I do.  I HATE it.  I can't stand looking in the mirror.  I don't want to be naked (and I hate clothes).  I don't want anyone looking at me.  I'm embarassed by the extra baby/medication weight I am carrying around.  But I'm so so sore and hungry.  This shit is hard.

I wish I could have a gym membership, have time to go, and could go when they can watch the kids so I can work out at a pace and style that better suits me.

I haven't done a weigh-in yet.  That happens every 2 weeks.  So I'm hoping to see some improvement when that day happens, because honestly, if I don't see SOME sort of change, I'm going to be very disheartened and inclined to quit the pain.

I know, lifestyle changes are hard.  But I'm not really up for hurting myself in the quest for weight loss.  There has got to be a less painful way....

Diagnosis: Strong-Willed

So, we saw the pediatrician today.  The news is good.  For him, LOL.

His behaviors are consistent with a strong-willed and super smart kid.  No autistic issues.  He even recommended books about strong-willed children.  So he's fine, we're just in trouble with this one.

He said the keys are consistency and positive reinforcement and that pushing things with him will only make things worse.  Offer "choices" to guide him, making it seem as though HE got to make the decision.  He assured me he will eventually learn to obey and will probably always push limits but that it will get easier.

Basically, he's a handful, he will continue to be a handful, but there's nothing "wrong" with him.

I guess I'm reassured.  Just tired.  And off to read books about strong-willed children.  Oy.

Decision

After talking to my mom (yes, I still ask my mom for advice) who spent 10 years working with an Autism program in the schools, I've decided to call the pedi and take P in.  I'm going to ask for an evaluation.  It could just be that he is strong willed, big personality.  It could just be that he's super smart and gets absorbed in the things he is doing. (Don't even try talking to me when I'm reading. I won't hear you.  It's like that.)  But I've worked myself up into a tizzy worrying now.  Actually allowing myself to worry.  I even took books out of the library on some topics.

Just for the sake of record keeping, the things that are bothering me (and that bothered my mom) are

• obsessive behaviors
• difficult to engage at times (gets so absorbed with things that he will not respond to you)
• no change in how he deals with his brother - basically ignores him, including his safety, most of the time
• discipline, talking do not help with hitting and throwing. no change in that behavior.

Again, this could all be completely normal.  Normal is a broad range.  But I'm going to feel better if I have him evaluated and find out. 

ASD?

I've never considered P's behaviors as indicative of the Autism Spectrum Disorder.  Autism? Not my kid.  He is sociable, fun loving, not at all withdrawn.  But several of my friends whose children are on the spectrum replied to that last post saying perhaps we should have him evaluated based on their experiences with their children.

His well visit is in March, 2 months from now.  So I'm thinking I will bring it up then.  Early Intervention is a bit touchy right now because he is so close to the cutoff, so I'm wondering if it is worth having them come out at this point, or if we could even get in with them.  (Horrid run on sentence, sorry). I think I want some input from the pediatrician first.

It seems odd to take toddler behaviors and diagnose him.  I've obviously never had a toddler before, so just assumed all this stuff is normal toddler stuff.  Especially since he isn't socially awkward, speaks, makes eye contact, and such. Kid comes up to me at least once a day with hugs and "I wuv you Mommy." I don't want to jump and have a diagnosis at such an early age if he is just being a stereotypical toddler.  He is mostly good with other kids. I say mostly because sharing is so not his thing and he is physical about getting his way.
Is it worth seeing the pedi now?  Or wait a couple months?  Thoughts?

God, I really don't want to think about this.

Not In Charge

I'll admit it. I'm not in charge of my child.  I'm not sure where I went wrong, but P is definitely in charge.  It seems his will is stronger than mine.  He can reduce me to tears.  The stubbornness is epic.

Yesterday he went until 5 pm on 1 PediaSure and flavored water.  Because he only wanted chocolate milk and I won't let him live on that. Then he acquiesced and ate some crackers and a banana.  He eats only a few things.  He WILL NOT try new foods.  How he continues to grow is beyond me.  I can't force him.  I despair of him ever eating like a normal person.  It just seems to get worse the older he gets.  Typical conversation: "Want chocolate milk."  "You can have crackers or a banana or 'juice'..." "Want chocolate milk."  "No, I told you what you can have."  "WANT CHOCOLATE MILK."  "No."  "Want juice."

He refuses baths a lot.  This is a kid who normally loves baths and swimming and water.  But god forbid he be clean.  Sometimes I just can't deal with the battle, so he just gets dirty.  Last night I sucked it up, dealt with the screaming, writhing mess of my near-preschooler, and got him in the bath.  It was horrid.  Most times I just don't have the energy.  He wins.  I surrender.  At least in the summer he was in the pool everyday so I could pretend he was clean.

Sleep.  He wakes up every night.  Many nights he crawls on the couch with Hubby (who sleeps there because it makes his back hurt less), but often he decides it's party time at some godawful hour.  And throws a tantrum if you don't give in to his want for the phone or the tablet or whatever.  Last night he was pulling toys out and generally making a racket and a mess.  At like 1 am.  Hubby usually deals with him, but those nights we are all affected.  I swear he has insomnia.

The TV.  It's his.  The battle is not worth it to me most of the time.  He screams, shrieks.  He is horrid.  And god forbid we don't give in to a whim.  Hitting.  He hits.  Time outs?  Won't stay in them.  "Stop that or you get a time out.  Do you want time out?"  "Okay."  You can see how effective this is.

I'm not sure where I lost the disciplinarian battle.  I try.  I really do.  Maybe it's just toddler/preschooler hell.  Perhaps in the next year we will see some improvement.  I can hope, right?  It's normal for them to be evil and horrid at this age, right?  I've heard the terms Terrible Twos, Terrorist Threes, Threenager.  I get them.  I do.

I should note that he is also incredibly loving and has a great laugh and is such a joy a lot of the time.  But I feel like he is definitely in charge and as though I have failed as a parent because my toddler is in charge.  Oy.  Parenthood is not easy.  Rewarding, but hard as hell.

PTSD?

So...

It's been well over a year since I've had sex.  Like when Finn was conceived long time.  I can't do it.  The only reason Finn was conceived is that I was self-medicating.  When I got pregnant and spent time in the hospital all that stopped.  And apparently so did my ability to have sex.

Which all stems from the rape.

I was talking to a friend recently and she said it sounds like PTSD.  I had never considered that.  I know I need therapy, I just DON'T WANT TO DO IT.  Because I don't want to think about it any more than I already do.

But the current situation isn't healthy and is extremely unfair to Hubby.

Why can't I just stay in denial and avoidance?

Nervous

I start a new job soon.  When is up in the air, but soon.  At a preschool, though I will specifically be a floater half the day and with the after school kids the 2nd half of the day.  I'm hoping I get to move to the younger kids eventually, or can one day get into an elementary program.  Anywho, I'm nervous.

I'm nervous because the start date has gotten pushed back due to new construction and the director is not great at communicating and my paranoid self keeps thinking they've decided not to hire me after all.

I'm nervous that I'll fuck it up.  I never used to be like this, but ever since being fired nearly 2 years ago my self-confidence is SHOT.  I don't trust myself.

I'm also sad about leaving the kids I work with now.  It's hard to build that bond and then leave suddenly.

I'm nervous about how working full time again is going to affect my relationship with my children.  I will be spending more time with other people's kids than my own, and Abuela will see them more than I do.  It's shitty.  I hate it.

I really hope it starts soon, though, so that anxious waiting is over. The waiting is the hardest part.  It makes me nuts.

Allergy Scare

Phelan is a hardy child.  Rarely sick.  Never more than a cold except for one ear infection he got from swimming and one stomach bug.  In nearly 3 years I haven't had to worry about him.

The other night we got home from a trip to Ft. Worth and I put him to bed.  Shortly thereafter he came out whining and clearly uncomfortable and his face was COVERED in hives.  Arms, too.  And a spot on his torso.  I panicked.  Maybe because there is never anything to worry about with him that this freaked me out.  So we went to the ER where I learned that most hives are idiopathic and we may never know.  Dosed with benadryl and sent home but told to go to doc if happened again.

Yesterday morning Hubby was changing his diaper and what do you know,  more hives.  In fact, Hubby said that's what the diaper rash looked like the other day.  Except it's hives, not a diaper rash, so now we knew there had been at least one other incident.

Off to the doctor we went.  Where they have decided that given his history of not having problems that something definitely is triggering them.  The likely culprit is the antibiotic he was on for the dog bite last week.  They finished Saturday but are still in his system.  He is now on prednisone for 5 days while the meds leave his system, and benadryl as needed.

He doesn't have breathing issues or anything with the hives, but it still scared me SOOOOO BADLY.  I never want to go through that again!

On Hold

We gave up potty training again for the time being.  I made it longer this time than last.  There are 2 camps of thought re: potty training.

Ready or Not Ready.

No Such Thing As Ready or Not Ready.

The question is, which do I believe in?  Because if I believe in the first, he's not ready.  If I believe in the second, he's totally capable and just being stubborn which happens.

So I'm doing some reading, will make a decision, and when PT starts again we are staying quiet so I don't get the conflicting advice which ends up making me doubt my own decisions.

Why do I think he's capable?  He can read.  If he can teach himself to read he can understand that poop and pee go in a potty.  He would wait until we weren't looking to go - meaning he knows he's doing it.  This sort of thought process puts me in the "No such thing" category.  I believe he can learn and that he doesn't have to be "ready".

HOWEVER, he is ridiculously willful, and so perhaps he does personally have to be "ready".  That's where I waver.  He never did trial and error with any skills.  He waited until he knew he could do them, and then just did them.  Like with crawling and walking and rolling.  All of it.  And he recently gave up his version of a paci (a nasty old sippy cup) on his own.  So perhaps there is no fighting this kid.  Perhaps he WILL have a "ready" time.

Anyway, it's on hold again.  We're not over the average age for boys, so no worrying yet. I just REALLY want to be down to 1 in diapers.  I feel like he should be doing more things for himself than he is and that is my fault.  But what do I know?  I'm making up this whole parenting thing as I go along.

Potty Training Day 4

Today is day 4.  I need alcohol.  A lot of it.

I know he knows where to go.  And I know he knows when he has to go.  Yet my floor is becoming wetter and wetter.  Right now I would kill for hardwood floors so clean up would be easy and the smell wouldn't linger.

A few have said maybe he's not ready.  But I remain convinced that if he can read, he can potty.

It's a battle of wills.  I only made it 2 days last time.  I'm not backing down this time.  I'm not.  The force in this one is strong though, and I want to cave, give back in to diapers, just deal with it.  I won't.  We can do this.  I know we can.

Pet Free Living

Yesterday our dog, who has been anti-Phelan for a while now, went too far and a snap became a bite.  We swore he wouldn't stay if he bit one of the kids.  The good thing is the bite wasn't too bad.  More of a scratch and bruising, so P basically looks like he got punched in the mouth.

Yesterday sucked.  It turns out the hospital has to report bites, so we had to find a shelter that could quarantine him, pay for that, and we signed paperwork to surrender him to the shelter after quarantine.  I pray they find him a good home and that he doesn't have to be euthanized.

A number of months ago we had to give up our remaining cat because of finances, and before that one ran away, and another refused to come to TX so my parents adopted him.  We've gone from a 4 pet home to a 0 pet home in under a year.  It feels weird.  I have always had pets of some sort.

I'm sad.  I want my kids to know animals.  But financially, getting another pet right now just isn't going to work.  So now we are a pet-free home.  I have to admit, no dog walks, no picking up poop, no barking...it's kinda nice.  But I feel terrible about how everything went down :-(

Potty Training May Kill Me

We bit the bullet.  Again.  But not giving up this time.  Potty training is on like Donkey Kong.

P is a heavy wetter.  Like 10 diapers a day filled to the brim heavy wetter.  He peed all of 3 times on day 1. That's it.  Needless to say he leaked through his overnight diaper.  Stubborn as a mule.  I mentioned that, right?

We have undies for him, but I think that's too confusing for him to start because he will pee right through them, so we're starting naked.  Every 30 minutes on the potty.

My questions are: when do you train them to stand up and pee?  And how do you get them to go poop?!?!  He is holding it.  I'm dreading that blowout.  My sitter is a saint for helping with this.

I know that a child who uses a toilet will be amazing once we get there, but I really despise this process.

But I figure that if he taught himself to read before the age of 3 he can bloody well use a potty.  Right?

Night And Day

Phelan is a fighter and a lover.  Always has been.  Very demonstrative about EVERYTHING.  Very vocal.  Oodles of energy.  Doesn't cry if he falls or bumps for the most part. Stubborn as a mule. Hated nursing.  It wasn't fast enough for him.  If I didn't know better I'd swear he is a fire sign.  He was supposed to be, so maybe that's it.  Definitely a go big or go home kinda guy.l

Finn is quiet, no babbling, more of an observer.  Cries easily.  But very chill otherwise.  Isn't fighting development like it's the devil.  Does things by learning.  (Phelan wouldn't do anything until he knew he could.)  Didn't get frustrated breastfeeding.  Will probably nurse till he is in college.  Mellowing out until things happen.  Not a fighter.  More laid back.  Easier.

In those ways they are night and day. Soooo different.

But both are mama's boys.  Can't sleep on their own.  These things are similar.  But to me they are night and day.  Shockingly so.

Anyone else's kids radically different from each other?

You Know You're A Parent When...

...you sacrifice the larger bedroom to your children to save your living room from being a clusterfuck all the time.  And because all you do is sleep* in your room anyway.

...broken bananas make you want to cry because they make your child cry.

...you go to bed when the kids do if you actually want to get sleep*.

...your bathtub is filled with toys that you try not to break your neck on every time you shower**.

...your house is a disaster area ALWAYS and you've given up on it ever looking nice.

...your fridge has marker on it.  So do your walls, dressers, windowsills, and mini blinds.

...goldfish are a food group.  The crackers.  Not real goldfish.

...you consider a shower** your most peaceful and sacred time of day.

...Dr. Seuss is all you're reading these days.  Unless you can squeeze in 5 minutes of alone time.  During which time you probably wish you were getting sleep*.

...you've considered covering your floors with tarps.

Just a few tidbits.

*Sleep is a myth.  One night Finn slept 6 hours straight.  I got 5.5.  I woke up at 2 am refreshed and ready to go.  It was amazing.  It may never happen again.  I can't remember the last time I had regular sleep.

**Showers are also a myth.  Hubby gets them every day. I aim for every 3.  I love showers.  I miss them.

DISCLAIMER:  I wouldn't trade any of this for the world.  But I might for just one night of solid sleep and a longer than 3 minute shower.  So I just want 8 hours and 15 minutes. Then I'm good to go for a long time again.

Love You Forever

A couple weeks ago at Hubby's company Christmas party I was getting antsy to leave.  Things were winding down, but people were still happily talking and hanging out.  I said, "I want to go home and see the kids." Someone, not yet a parent, said, "Aren't they asleep, though?"  I said that yes, they were, but I wanted to watch them breathe.  He was baffled.  His fiance laughed, and I just told him that one day he would get it.

P is nearly 3 years old and I still like to creep in his room and watch him sleep, watch his chest rise and fall, touch his sweet face, kiss it.  While he is asleep I still see my little baby.  He is growing so fast, learning so much, but asleep he is my sweet not threenager baby.

Finn is still my tiny.  Sometimes I have a difficult time falling asleep because I just want to watch him sleep.  8 months in and the miracle that he is mine is still alive and well.  I listen to his breathing to lull me to sleep.  I try to take it all in.

It goes so fast that I don't want to miss a moment.  Even when I can't wait for a few moments to myself, I end up spending them watching my kids sleep.  I can't be the only mom who does this.

One of my favorite books as a child was Love You Forever, which I still need to purchase for myself.  It always made me weepy. I was sentimental even then.  But now, now that I have my own little ones, I UNDERSTAND it.  The urge to hold my babies even while they sleep, to rock them.  Because they will always be my babies.  Until the day I die.