When Seth was around preschool age and he’d get upset, we’d often try to sort out the matter by talking, snuggling and rocking. Once he’d calm down he’d burrow his face into my chest. (I know! Insert your own “motorboat” joke here.) In his words, he was “wipin’ ob-fff da ca-wi-yin.”  (”Wiping off the crying” if you don’t understand the toddler dialect.) Once accomplished, all was fine. It was as if a dried face was the emotional equivalent to a clean slate. He was ready to start anew. 

So last week when I found I had miscarried, I cried. Alot.

I have learned the hard way that when I feel utterly depleted, I just need to be left alone for a few hours. If I try to continue on with the daily chaos of life, that feeling intensifies and it takes longer for me to pull myself out of that pit. Thankfully, I have a very wise husband who understands this and gives me that space when I need it. 

So last Friday night Marc came home and took care of our son while I had my alone time. After a few hours, I decided I had cried enough. I know I’m very fortunate. I’ve got a healthy little boy, wonderful friends and family. I’ve taken quite a bit of solace in those these things. I also realized I need to take better care of myself (less sweets and soda, more water and walks) than I had been before this surprise pregnancy. 

So I took a page out of my little guy’s book. I “wiped ob-ffed da ca-wi-yin” that night and looked at Saturday as a clean slate. There are still moments where my eyes start to water and my heart breaks all over again. I “wipe off the cryin’” when I need to then try to focus on the future. I’m moving forward, slowly, but alas I’m beginning to heal.  

The support I received after this post was amazing. (Thankfully, the scary ordeal is no longer “scary” nor an “ordeal”.) But I wanted to thank everyone who took time to read the post and comment. So I’ll be thanking a group of people as a part of each post until I’ve thanked everyone. So thanks to: Mama Geek, Jo, Jordan, Nicole, Kelli, Jen, Isis23, Jenn, Laurie, Nancy R, Stacie, Amalie, Farrell,Imstell, Nonlinear Girl, Debra, Jessica, Candygirlflies, and Diana.

Last night the hubs and I, along with several supafun couples, spent the evening at an amazing Italian restaurant in Town and Country.

We earlybirds sat at the bar having cocktails. And when everyone arrived, we found a private room especially prepared for our group.

Marc hasn’t been at his current employer for two years yet, but the firm has expressed a great deal of enthusiasm for his ideas. They’ve been very supportive in implementing those ideas as well as showing appreciation for his hard work. He’s already won an award for client development and this summer was asked to be a stockholder. As of last night, he was promoted to a director.  

So we toasted Marc. And then one of the partners of his office made a speech about how important spouses are to the company. Then we spouses were given gifts (cough, Waterford Crystal, cough) as a “thank-you” for supporting our hardworkin’ loverlies. SWEET!

And then there was much eating, imbibing, and lively conversation. And a “brown squirrel” dessert drink which tasted like a chocolate shake with Amaretto. (I am convinced these drinks could bring about world peace AND alleviate PMS.)

And then there was even more dessert and coffee.  And more laughing. It was a bit of a rough morning, but damn! What a fun night. (I may not have to eat for an entire week. Also, if you ever go there, do yourself a favor and GET THE SEA BASS!  See how strongly I feel about the sea bass? I used an exclamation point AND caps! It totally warrants that kind of emphasis!)

So congrats to mah hubby. I’m proud of ya babe. And happy for you too.

P.S. Yes, with the wild pattern on the dress and bangs I think I look like a reject from a 70’s porno too! I was NOT going for this look but its a long story… ) 

The support I received after this post was amazing. (Thankfully, the scary ordeal is no longer “scary” nor an “ordeal”.) But I wanted to thank everyone who took time to read the post and comment. So I’ll be thanking a group of people as a part of each post until I’ve thanked everyone.

So thanks to: Glennia, Kathryn, Stephanie, Momisodes, Amy, Mollie, Tracey, Kat, Rebecca, Madge, Jenn, Mahala, Ali, MoxieMamaKC, Angela, Growing a pair, Amanda, and Metro Mama.

My heart is so heavy these days. 

I have a difficult enough time sleeping. But when I travel its far worse. I’m really weird about noise, pillows, texture of blankets, mattresses and a few other things. Usually I don’t manage more than an hour or two a night when on the road. After awhile the stress of being in a new place and no sleep wear on me. My routine is disrupted, I don’t get any time to myself, and I get really edgy and bitchy. I usually end up with at least one migraine during a trip and several after the trip. (Ask poor Kristie. She was my BlogHer roommate.)

Before the trip I was completely stressed. Things only got worse while on the trip. I took on some projects I thought I could finish while on the trip. I vastly overestimated the time I MIGHT have to get these projects done. I barely slept and had a super nasty migraine over the course of the trip. Honestly, I was ready to go home 12 hours after I got there. And no offense to Texas. Ya’ll have great weather but I seem to get this way anywhere I go these days.

During our last day in Texas, my cell phone died in the middle of a conversation with Marc. Our flight got cancelled. I got angry. Because he was trying to make back up arrangements, he was late in picking us up (he dropped us off at a movie while he went to a meeting). And I when my son asked why daddy wasn’t there yet (we’d be waiting almost three hours.) I had no idea and I assumed the worst. I said something very mean and unfair about Marc which Seth repeated within minutes of seeing Marc.

To make matters worse, I felt betrayed by my son for saying this to Marc. I know! He’s five. How stupid. I had no right to badmouth my husband in front of my son, let alone feel hurt by what Seth repeated to his father. The next day I made my son feel guilty for relaying my comment to Marc.

Oh and did I mention that at one point while in the car with Seth and Marc (we ended up driving home. Yes! At least 11 hours in a car — all of those miles covered in about 20 hours.) Seth was talking and I yelled at him to “Shut up.”

God, I can be so ugly and mean. And I’m so horrified and ashamed. I hadn’t packed enough meds for an extra day so that meant no sleep and a raging migraine. I hurt so bad I seriously thought I should go to the hospital. Most of my energy was directed at not throwing up. Turns out I have a nasty sinus infection now which was probably a reason as to why I was feeling so crappy before as well as during the trip.

My husband is really angry and disgusted with me. I patched things up with Seth but my marriage seems as if it might not recover from this. There have been other fights through the years and I think we are both so tired of fighting. I don’t know how to fix this. I fear its a permanent rift between us. And that really scares and saddens me.

My migraines, sinus issues, and insomnia don’t help. Because there are times, after a good week or so of not sleeping and feeling almost constant pain, I start to feel like a raw, exposed nerve. I seriously start to wonder if I’m on the cusps if I’m losing my mind. I start feeling shakey and sick and weak. My husband doesn’t understand what it is like to live with constant pain. (But I can see how it would suck to live with me.) I start to get depressed. I’ve tried all sorts of medications to help. So far what I’m on now has been the best way to stave off migraines but even the meds are no match for all of the triggers that can set off a migraine. (It is better now. But I still get weeks where I’ll have 4-6 migraines in one week.)

But insomnia, sinus issues, and migraines aside, I feel so ashamed of my behavior to the two men I love dearly. When I apologized to Seth again today he said, “Don’t worry mom. You were just having a few bad days.” I feel like I don’t deserve his love. Even now, the whole thing just reduces me to tears. And I’m working on taking some steps that will hopefully prove to be constructive. I feel like I’ve sunk to an all time low. I didn’t control my frustration and got irrationally angry. And I took it out on two people I love the most.

So I’m sorry about not visiting. I’m sorry this is so heavy and depressing. I’m sorry I can be so toxic. Trolls, or anyone for that matter, if you want to tell me what a horrible bitch I am, you are more than welcomed to. Because I deserve it. I did act like a totally selfish, horrible, ugly, hateful person. And I’m so horrified. But I just wanted to let you guys know why I haven’t been around. I felt like I owed ya’ll an explanation.

Oh and I wrote a review for Building Bobland Bay for Parent Bloggers Network. If you are interested click HERE.

Once upon a time, many years ago, there lived a sweet little pup by the name of Abbey. Abbey was a needy little creature of almost nine months. Being that her daddy traveled quite a bit, Abbey would follow him all over the house whenever he was home.

 Earlier on a fateful Saturday, unbeknown to Abbey, her daddy had eaten White Castle on the sly. She had no idea that White Castle + human alpha male = stink of epic proportion. (It was so bad, he was banned from eating the greasy yummies unless he was out of town.) A few hours after his feast, when the daddy felt the urge to “go”, he went to the bathroom.

Needy pup followed only to get the door closed in her face. She whined a bit. Her dad finally relented and let her in. She didn’t realize he’d done so while laughing evilly.

Dogs have an acute sense of smell, yes? 

After a few minutes, the odor got to be too much for the poor pup. At first she started to whine softly. Then she began to paw at the door in desperation. She wanted out. She could take no more! She whined louder. She scratched at the door with more fervor.

 The alpha male laughed manically.

 Just when the poor pup thought she could take no more, he flushed, washed, then let her out of her hell. She shot out the door as if her tail was on fire. She didn’t go near him the rest of the day.

Abbey learned a painful lesson. And to this day, she won’t go into a bathroom with her daddy.

I’m pretty sure that if Abbey could talk she’d tell you herself that being a homeless itty bitty puppy with worms (before we adopted her) was far easier than being stuck in that bathroom with her dad. In fact, even at the ripe ole age of nine, she’d probably still shudder from the memory.

By this afternoon, my husband will be a few grams lighter. He’s slated for surgery to remove his uvula.

Ya see, Marc’s a snorer. But not just any ole’ snorer. To describe the noise as “loud” is a great understatement. (Sometimes I can even hear him across the hall in the guest bedroom despite the hum of a noise machine.) The “noise” is not a rhythmic, smooth kind of sound either. It is of the “quiet for a few minutes, then it starts, then it stops, and then it starts again ALL NITE LONG . (Whether he’s on his back, sides or stomach.) Sleeping with that man is like trying to take a nap next to an onery cuss with a chainsaw lookin’ to mess with you. When will the noise start? Wait for it. Waaaaiiiit for it. I find myself waiting “for the other shoe to drop” the entire time I’m laying next to him — but its as if there’s 5000 damn shoes!

So after trying a sleep device, different herbal and over-the-counter stuff as well as allergy meds, (all within the past two years) the ENT decided surgery was the only option left. Marc (tired of his wife sleeping in the Pepto Bismol pink guest room) agreed.

 The doctor planned to fix his deviated septum (Dude! There are things on that man’s body far more “deviant”. Can you fix his digestive system too?) as well as take out his uvula.

So I ask Marc: “If they take out your uvula, will you no longer have a gag reflex? That would be so cool if you didn’t. You could have a career swallowing swords and stuff!”

Marc: “If I don’t have a gag reflex I may turn into a VERY POPULAR gay prostitute.

And then he looks at me. With that odd little mischievous smile. Sometimes, I KNOW what he’s thinking before he even thinks it.

Me: “NO!” (Scurries back upstairs to hide…)

Sorry hon. I’m keeping MY gag reflex.

Speaking of uvulas… Did you know they can be pierced?

Haikus

Oh little boy Seth
Your toys litter various rooms.
PLEASE, please pick them up.

Black, white and spotted
Abbeydog, get OFF the bed.
And please barf outside.

My dear Honeybuns
I love you so much more when –
you aren’t so gassy.

Oh lovely Dyson
A quite talented vaccum –
well worth the money.

Cool bloggin’ mommies
Reading your posts keep me sane.
I love all of you.