Rainy Saturday

I don't even really have anything I feel like writing about; this entry is more about having the ability to be on the computer right now. Mark has already left for work and Matthew is sleeping next to me on the bed. He's been out for a little while so I'm not sure how much time I'll have to type away on here this morning, but I'll take advantage of it while it lasts.

We're moving next week. Moving into a 150 year old Victorian house. I'll have my things back... all of my things that have been packed into boxes in Mom's garage for the last 5 months. My Pottery Barn dishes, my Pampered Chef stoneware, my candles and pictures and mirrors... my stuff. Opening the boxes and unpacking will feel like Christmas morning!

I'll be out of this 12x10 room. I'll have a kitchen and a living room again! I'll have windows that can open!! A room for Matthew!! Life will be good again... I'll feel like a real human being again, instead of like this sub-human recluse.

It's hard to believe that just a year ago I would never have pictured my life coming to this. I had a 3000 square foot house, completely and newly renovated by us, an in ground pool with gorgeous patio furniture. I had a car and a gym membership, and I bought Dooney and Bourke purses on a whim.

Now I live in one room and have a baby. I have stretch marks. I don't go to a gym because I don't have a car and couldn't afford a membership even if I did have a car. I have 2 pair of jeans (and 23 that don't fit). And I sold all but 2 of my Dooney and Bourke purses on ebay when the money first ran out.

Matthew is awake! I really do miss him when he sleeps! This post was a complete ramble, but nice to have the 10 minutes free!

Four Months

Matthew is four months old today. As I write this, he's sitting in my lap leaving me only one (sometimes none) hand free to type. In four months I've gotten pretty good at one handed typing, with typos and misspellings occurring less frequently.

Last night Matthew went to sleep at 6:15, after an hour and a half of solid crying. He woke up to breastfeed around 7:30, and took some of a bottle around 8:45 without fully waking up. He slept straight through until I woke him at 7:15 this morning. I didn't sleep well last night; I was constantly turning over to listen for his quiet breathing. I think the prolonged crying episode followed by such deep sleep had me freaked out.

It's amazing that I've been a mom for 4 months already. I still feel so unprepared for this some days. Some days I can tell I'm doing a good job, but I really haven't ever felt like I get it completely right.

He's really the most amazing thing I've ever done. Sometimes the feeling of loving him so much makes my eyes fill up with tears. Nobody in the world can understand how this feels. (Except maybe every other mother?) He's so beautiful, so snuggly, so perfect. Every single thing about him is sweet and amazing.

He's changing so fast. It's hard to remember how things were just last week let alone 4 months ago. Everything passes in a blur, and it's all too easy to picture him starting school, making friends, growing up and away... Some days I just snuggle him and breathe in his sweet baby smell.

At 4 months, Matthew is intent on trying to talk, cooing and gurgling. He knows that "talking" will bring me to his crib, and he'll smile when he sees me coming to him. He and I have very serious in-depth conversations which involve his coos and my agreement. He's laughing out loud, a special funny kind of giggle that could cheer me out of my grumpiest bad mood (at least for a minute). He still sleeps in his car seat due to reflux... I'm too afraid to lay him flat to sleep. He smiles at me every time I say the word "beautiful", even if I'm not looking at him when I say it. He wants to stand on my lap pretty much non-stop. He naps everyday around 9:30 and 3:00 for about a half hour each. He loves his bath, but hates the drying off/getting dressed again part. He fusses in the stroller when he's been in it for more than 20 minutes, and he refuses to ride in it in any kind of store or mall.

The hardest part of being a new mom has been the amount of time I'm alone with the baby. Alone with no help, no one to talk to, no ability to just take 5 minutes for myself all day. I shower no more than 3 times a week... usually just twice a week. I don't believe, will NEVER believe that Mark has a single bit of understanding of what this feels like; I am absolutely certain he could never do this. I'm also fairly sure that he's thought to himself on more than one occasion "well, what did you expect when you wanted to have a baby?" I know I'm holding a lot of bitterness and mistrust towards Mark, which I will either have to get over or it will end our marriage.

All three of us are living in my mom's dining room, with a fake wall partitioning us off from the living room. We're living with 6 disgusting cats who throw up and poop in places where they shouldn't. I spend a lot of time in the make-shift bedroom with the baby, because I feel like things aren't nearly as clean as I'd like them and I do not have the time to clean them myself. I'm just waiting to move, waiting to get away from this messy house and all the cats. Waiting to have my own things out of storage, to have a nursery for Matthew. (My heart still breaks over having to leave his nursery in NC.)

This is what my life is like with 4 month old Matthew.

Stroller envy

We had a beautiful weekend... the kind of weekend where it's not at all difficult to remember why we got married. On Sunday we took Matthew to the park for a walk. It was beautiful weather, warm but a nice breeze off the water. It was really just a perfect day, with one minor exception.

I'm coming to realize that my stroller is very, very uncool. I have an ordinary Graco stroller. It's beige and green, with the typical ugly plaid fabric. We bought it before Matthew was born, and I chose it myself, primarily because it was part of a travel system that seemed like it would be the height of convenience. It was one of several similarly priced, similarly styled strollers, and honestly I didn't really give it a whole lot of thought.

Now, everywhere I go, I'm seeing these Bugaboo strollers. Every other mom I see is pushing her kids around in this sleek-framed, brightly colored stroller, and at least it seems to me, they're looking down their noses at my hopelessly un-sleek plastic disaster of a stroller.

I looked on the Internet, and came to find that these Bugaboo strollers cost over $600! WTF??? Where are these moms getting that kind of money? I really can't imagine that all these mom's can afford that kind of expense with all the other expenses that go along with a new baby.

So, while we were enjoying a great day in the sun, strolling along and talking in a way we really haven't since Matthew was born, along comes this obviously Type-A mom, with her DOUBLE Bugaboo stroller, her new baby in a sling across her chest and her 2 year old riding in style. As she's pushing her DOUBLE Bugaboo stroller with a speedy powerwalk stride, she's chatting on her cell, probably about something way too expensive for me to even understand.

While I don't admire this woman, I admire the hell out of her DOUBLE Bugaboo stroller. I want a cool stroller too, even if it's WAY overpriced. I want it. I want to feel cool while pushing my baby around the parks and neighborhoods and mall corridors of my little world. I want to feel supremely cooler than the other hopelessly unhip Graco stroller-pushing wanabees. Yes, I am shallow enough to buy into this ridiculously expensive stroller hierarchy crap.

I've got a bad case of stroller envy.

Pretty lame, I know.

Yes, I am the wicked stepmother

Well, this past weekend was better in some ways and worse in others. Mark and I got some time alone together, and talked a lot of things out. I'm not sure how long things will stay straight between us, though; I have a way of twisting things up again when I've spent too much time alone. We'll see how this week goes.

J came up for Fall Break, and was kind enough to squeeze in an almost 2 hour breakfast with us. Her mom had planned all kinds of family activities (which is weird, since she wouldn't even break a date before when J came up), and J was booked up with her mom all weekend. Maybe that's how she wanted it anyway. Maybe I'm blaming her mom for playing games by making all these plans. But maybe J just wanted it that way. Thinking about all this crap makes me tired.

Anyway, I went into the breakfast meeting feeling defensive. J is pissed at us for leaving NC. Never mind that it really wasn't by choice, that I was 31 weeks pregnant when we lost our house which included the completely redone baby nursery, and that going broke and having to move 500 miles away from home right before the baby came was stressful, embarrassing and just plain sad. Nope, we won't even think about that. We'll just think about how any money spent on the new baby is money not spent on her.

We gave her wallet size pictures of Matthew from the pictures of him we had taken a few weeks ago. She just looked at them, didn't even pick them up, and sneered, "Oh! Professional pictures, huh?" I couldn't even believe it. She couldn't bring herself to smile at the baby (which was fine, since everyone else in the diner was smiling at him and saying how gorgeous he is).

Actually, it isn't fine... it really hurts/bothers me that she can't get over her selfishness for one minute and be happy about the baby. I've spent the last 8 years doing everything I can to make life better for her, to help her, to foster a relationship between her and her dad (which has been difficult), and she thinks it's ok to shit all over Matthew... to ignore, begrudge, or envy any little thing done for him. The other kids are the exact same way. I almost (not completely) expected it from them; they live with their mom and I know she's not at all supportive of any relationship they might have with their dad. But J lived with us. We were close, at least I thought.

It's not ok. And I don't know what to do anymore. I'm tired of trying and trying and feeling like shit. I'm tired of feeling guilty about being married to their dad. No matter how much we do, it's never enough, and I'm tired. I have other things to think about. I don't know if I should just wait for her to get over it... that could take months. I don't know if I should try to talk to her about it... she's so bitchy and accusatory on the phone, and I'm tired of apologizing to her just to make peace.

I think in the end I'll do nothing. She's not my child. She's 22 years old. I'll still remind Mark to call her periodically, but for the time being I'm going to back away. She's got anger issues and I just can't help her with this.

I really just can't.

Where is the light at the end of this tunnel?

I swear things just keep getting worse and worse. Mark and I are fighting all the time... I just keep telling him that our marriage is over, and the worst part is that I really mean it when I'm saying it. I don't know what is going on; we were absolutely best friends before Matthew. Now I feel like we're just like every other married couple who can barely stand each other. We used to be each others' greatest support. Now we say such ugly things to each other that I can't remember what I liked or admired about him in the first place.

I don't know how things went so bad so quickly. And I don't know if things will ever be the same again.

What I've Missed the Most

Since going broke and becoming a mom happened around the same time, it's hard to know which life changes were brought about by which event. I realize now that I took a lot of things for granted before Matthew was born and when we had plenty of money.

Before we went broke we had nice houses, nice furniture, the swimming pool, frivolous shopping, trips to the beach, dinners out, Vegas, and just a general sense of security you get when you lay your head down at night without worrying about paying the bills.

Before Matthew I had time to myself; time to do my laundry without scheduling it into my day. I had time to take a shower AND blow dry my hair without worrying. My boobs stayed in their bra all day , and no one other than Mark ever saw them. I went to bed at night without listening for tiny sighs and snores, proof that the baby was still breathing and therefore alive.

But, the one thing that I miss the most that I can attribute both to going broke and the birth of Matthew is:

Taking a bath.

I was an every night in the tub kind of girl before going broke and having a baby. I would take a book and sit in there for at least an hour. Mark would come in to the bathroom to chat, bringing with him some kind of snack. Since we went broke, I haven't had a tub available to me, and since Matthew, I haven't had the time for a proper bath.

All that's about to change.

Thursday night, we're getting a hotel room with a luxury bathtub, and I'm going to soak until I shrivel up like a prune. And, before we check out the next day, I'm going to soak again. In fact, I may just sleep in the tub all night long. I'm so excited!!!! I just can't wait!!!

The good, the bad, the adorable...

The Good...

This weekend started out beautifully. On Saturday, Mark came home from work early and covered the baby so I could take a long shower and blow dry my hair. We loaded up the baby and drove to an outdoor shopping mall about a half hour away. The weather was beautiful and Mark had just gotten paid, both of which helped to lighten our mood.

In the Gap, I bought my first pair of non-maternity jeans in my new and quite frightening size. Actually, it wasn't as bad as I expected... still not good, but could have been worse. Buying those jeans felt like turning a corner, in a way. As though buying non-maternity clothes has officially ended my pregnancy in a way that giving birth didn't. Or something like that...

In the end, we came away from our day at the outdoor mall with a set of 6 wine glasses from Pottery Barn for $22, 2 bags of Williams Sonoma's Pecan Pumpkin Quickbread mix, and a jar of fancy tomato sauce to be used on chicken later this week. Not a huge haul by any means, but more than enough to satisfy the frivolous shopping need, when we spent the day strolling in the sun and congratulating each other on our gorgeous baby. We really needed a day in the sun like that.

The Bad...

That night we went down to pick up the girls for the night. That didn't go very well, but i really don't feel like writing anything about that right now.

The Adorable...

What was amazing though was that while I was digging through the Gap's sale rack for jeans (there was NO WAY I was paying full price for giant pants), Mark held Matthew up to the mirror and Matthew smiled and laughed when he saw himself. He's been doing it ever since then, and we all keep putting him in front of mirrors to see him laugh.

Are all babies this amazing? Do all moms feel so "lifted" when their babies smile at them? It's got to be the most incredible feeling.