Category Archives: imperfections; perfections

Take THAT, apartment!!!

Over the past little while, I haven’t been on top of my “domestic duties”, so to speak. I know, this confession is shocking coming from me, huh? The one who actually believes in the 50s housewife mindset {to a degree, anyway}. But it’s true! I’ve been slacking, and then some! The soles of my slippers are caked in squished raisins – and that tells you about the cleanliness of my kitchen floor right there.

For the past week, I’ve been super lazy and tired. I think my iron is low – actually I know my iron is low. I don’t get nearly enough red meats, nor do I eat anything else high in iron. So I’ve been lazy, spending most of my afternoons doing nothing but cuddling up my baby boy and reading stories to him. During his nap time, I also nap…or have been, anyway. Our bedroom was a laundry war-zone, piles of dirty scattered about on the floor and baskets of clean stacked high to the ceiling. I was too lazy to fold the clean laundry, and thus didn’t have any baskets for the dirty laundry. Nor did I have any room in the baskets for more clean laundry so I couldn’t just toss it into the washer and dryer to get rid of it. No, that would mean that I would actually have to fold some of the clean clothes. I did manage to stay on top of the dishes, more or less. After all, we don’t have a dish washer and even at my most laziest moments I can’t stand having dirty dishes in my sink. So, go me for that at least!

Yeah, I’ve been the definition of lazy. Even my blogging indicates that, and that’s totally okay. We’re all entitled to moments {er, in my case, weeks} of laziness. I prefer to call it “weeks of rest”, thank you very much.

In any case, I’ve broken out of the fog spell and slapped myself upside the head. I am the one who does the majority of the cleaning {okay, all of it – although hubs does help me tidy up toys in the evening}, because I am the one that gets bothered most by mess and dirty things. I’ve mentioned thousands of times before that Matt does not see messes the way I see them. He’s blind to them. They don’t exist. The man will cook a fantastic dinner, but leave all of the dishes on the counter. I’m lucky if some of them make it into the sink. So, if I’m the only one who does all the majority of the cleaning, you can bet your socks that our apartment needed my love and attention. So this morning, I gave it just that.

A huge chore for me was the recycling under the sink. We have a little blue recycling bin that is supposed to be taken out to our big recycling bin outside when it gets full. However, our big recycling bin is currently buried under tons of snow, I’ve attempted to make Matt dig it out several times before but according to him “it’s frozen to the ground and if he tries to get it out the bottom will come out.” So, we technically don’t have the use of a big recycling bin. I keep forgetting to go to Walmart and pick up a new one {that will we store in Matt’s truck cab}, not to mention Matt missed recycling this week. {He claims it doesn’t matter, because he didn’t have anything to put all the recycling in anyway – since our big bin is, again, buried}. Trust me when I say that the recycling literally piled up to the point where you couldn’t even open the cupboard doors under the sink without tons of it falling out at you. And I kept leaving it, thinking that Matt would deal with it. Pfft, yeah right! Matt deal with a mess?!? Even with my constant bitching about it, it stayed under the sink. He kept saying “oh, I’ll put it all in bags and put it in the back of my truck for now”.

Guess what I did today? I put all of the recycling in bags and then brought it out to Matt’s truck and tossed it in the cab. Now, the cupboard under my sink looks exactly how it’s supposed to…like this:

And Matt’s truck cab is loaded up with bags full of recycling, waiting for the day when we finally get our asses to Walmart to buy a new big recycling bin. Which, if I have anything to do with it, will be happening very soon. I think it looks really trashy {snort, trash…get it!?} and I want that dealt with ASAP. While it brings me such joy to see Matt’s truck cab full of recycling, that joy is dampened by the facts that a) he doesn’t drive his truck during the winter so what kind of punishment is that anyway? and b) as I said, it’s totally trashy and I hate trashy.

So, yeah. That was a huge chore for me this morning. Plus I cleaned the entire kitchen and washed the floors {and picked all the squished raisins off my slippers}. Then I cleaned the bathroom and our bedroom. I’m catching up on laundry {nearly there!} and I’ve vacuumed the livingroom. Our apartment is slowly being restored to it’s original glory, and I love it!

I don’t know why I allow myself to get in lazy moods like that. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does the mood drags on and on and on. Seriously, weeks of laziness? What the hell, me?

I’m glad I finally gave our apartment some tender loving and care, since Matt would like to have his college friend, G, and G’s girlfriend over for a “fondue party” tomorrow night. I’m game because chocolate fondue is bomb! And yes, I know, I should have recruited his help because he wants to have the fondue party, but guess what? I’m sure I’ll be making him clean something in preparation for this “fondue party” – our apartment never stays clean for long!

When I say that Matt doesn’t see messes the way that I see them, I mean simply that. He doesn’t see them. If I tell him to clean something, he’ll do it. I know, the recycling was just him being super lazy and probably unable to see how or where we could store all that recycling without pissing off our landlords {he was thinking truck bed, I was thinking truck cab}.

The best thing about being a stay-at-home-mom is that I only have myself to report to. Matt is completely fine with messes. I, on the other hand, not so much. So the only person I piss off when I get lazy is myself. I don’t piss off any managers or bosses, and I don’t loose my job for slacking. So basically, I can be lazy and still “have a job”. It’s awesome. Plus when I’m feeling lazy and not wanting to clean, it just gives me even more time to read stories to Nolan and play with him. We’ve had tons of snuggles this week!

Oh and by the way, I found Nolan’s other snow boot…it was stuck in his snow pants. So Nolan didn’t actually lose it at all. Mom fail? Totally. Oh well, he doesn’t seem bothered by the misguided blame at all 😉



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Damn Guilt

This year, in 2011, I am determined to change for the better. I am determined to stick to my resolutions and improve my follow through.

Last week, I signed up for a gym membership. Over the weekend, I questioned the sanity of that decision, and then decided to cancel my membership. I figured it would be no big deal – since I haven’t yet gone to the gym aside from signing up.

I had an appointment tonight with the friendly gentleman who signed me up to see if I could get out of it. I explained my concerns, my fear that we were biting off more than we could chew. I explained that the day care cost would just be too high, and if I waited for whenever Matt was home to watch Nolan, I’d barely make it to the gym at all. So, buddy hooked me up with an even better deal – free day care every time I go.

Um, hello! That’s pretty damn awesome! The guilt in my stomach over getting a gym membership subsided instantly. That would save us tons of money, and open up a lot of time for me to go.

It’s also given me tons of motivation, because in order to keep this deal I signed a promise that I would be at the gym at least three times a week. And now that the day care is free, I have no worries! My gym days will be Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I only have the girls for a couple hours Monday night and Friday morning, leaving tons of hours left in the day to hit up the gym, and Wednesdays are my days off so I’m free basically all day anyway.

So, I went in with the intent of getting out of my membership and walked out with free day care and renewed motivation. I can do this, especially with the cost of day care no longer a stress.

I know that my chronic pain disorder was also a worry {and a reason for the cancellation} but when I talked to the guy he explained that I would not be doing heavy work outs at all. My goals are to just get in better shape and slowly build muscle. He explained that they help you learn how to start out slow by giving orientations.

Which I would have known, had I made it to any of the orientations I was supposed to go to 😉

So here are my orientations:

  • Thursday, January 27th – Cardio Orientation
  • Tuesday, February 1st – Fit Fix Orientation
  • Wednesday, February 2nd – Free Weight Orientation

As you can see {read?}, my first orientation is tomorrow, at 5:30. I’m going to head out basically as soon as the girls’ father picks them up {around 4-4:30ish}. I want to get a parking spot SOMEWHAT close to the gym, and I want to get Nolan settled and myself changed and “warmed up” for the Cardio Orientation. I’m completely nervous as hell…but I suppose everyone is when they start something new…right?!

I’m also waiting for a call from one of the personal trainers {I guess? I don’t know what they’re called} about my Personal Health Profile. In addition to those orientations and appointments, I’m going to force myself to go work out this Friday, and on Monday and Friday of next week – even if I just go and walk/run on the treadmill or whatever, I need to do it. I am determined to go every single Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I have to get into the swing of it now, especially if I want to keep the whole free day care deal 😉

And I know I tweeted about my anxiety level being sky high while in the gym. It was. It was also sky high while I desperately searched for a parking spot in the dark in the middle of a snow storm. But guess what? 2011 is supposed to be about breaking out of my shell, getting over myself {and my fears}, and trying new things. AND improving my follow through.

It’s not going to be easy, hell it’s going to be a challenge in a half for the first few weeks. I’m going to be sore and tired as all hell…but I’m going to feel better in the long run. And if I don’t, at least I’ll know that I did follow through and give it a fair shot. I can’t quit before I even begin.

So, I’m gonna do this. I just need someone to kick my ass DAILY and motivate the hell out of me. I need someone who won’t let me be lazy and make excuses. Who’s in?!?

I also need a personal assistant to remind me of these orientations and appointments…

And a damn gym buddy, so I’m not as scared/nervous/anxious about going.

P.S. I have another post up over at The Wifey Blogs called Six Months. It’s about my thoughts/views on everything six months in to this whole marriage gig. So please go check it out after you’re done here!  Thank you 🙂


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But there really IS a 6 pack under these rolls!

Matt has been tossing the “G” word around.


He wants us to get a gym membership. Together. Not because he thinks I’m fat or anything, but because I’ve often expressed my frustration with my post-baby stomach.

Before pregnancy, I had what I like to fondly refer to as “effortless abs”. I didn’t do anything, and I had rock hard abs – despite the fact that I used to stuff my face full of McDonald’s and Dominos cheesy bread on the daily. Yes, hate pre-baby me, I sure as shit do now. Then I got pregnant, and WHAM. Now I have a flabby post-baby belly that I am too lazy to do anything about – other than bitch.

My stomach today.

Actually, that’s not entirely true. I have cut a lot of crap out of my diet, and I’m drinking way more water. But I’m not exercising. Winter is making it pretty damn hard to leave my couch. I do get out 4 times a week for sure – when I take J down to her bus stop with T and usually Nolan {except for Tuesdays, when Matt is home in the morning, then Nolan gets to miss out on the walk and sleep in. Lucky kid}.

I think part of my issue is that I don’t know how to exercise. Seriously, I’ve never exercised a day in my life and unfortunately, that is not an exaggeration.

So anyway, back to Matt. He brought home some pamphlets from a gym in town and I was reading up on the classes. I’ve gotta say…I’m deeply interested in taking some classes. I think it would be totally awesome to take a yoga, tai chi, or Pilates class or two. Of course, my social anxiety is a barrier right now. The idea of going to work out classes which a bunch of different people is totally scaring the crap out of me.

But I was all ya! Self improvement FTW! a couple of months ago, so I really don’t want that to be my excuse.

Money could be a factor, but Matt is animate that you can’t pay too much for good health. He also added that they have a dietitian that helps you work out a meal plan to get on the right track with eating healthy – I could totally use that, because I am clueless when it comes to “healthy eating” and everything I cook contains a lot of carbs and other not-so-fantastic stuff.

So…I’m on the fence about this. Especially since I totally want to hoard every last penny we have after bills for my ridiculous Ikea shopping trip in April.

But…I would honestly love to have more energy, and it’s a proven fact that working out and exercising gives you more energy. Maybe not at first, maybe not right away but it eventually does. I love the idea of attending a couple of classes each week to help with my stress levels {I hear yoga is great for that}, and I’d totally love a rockin’ bod for this summer. Toned ass, stomach, and thighs?! YES PLEASE! I’d be hitting up the beach daily, regardless of my scars because people would be all like “look at how toned she is! Her body rocks!”

Erm. So, yes. I’m on the fence about it.

But I think we’re going to do it; since Matt is totally for it. Hold me while I shiver in a corner and cry with fear.

P.S. Here are some cute photos of Nolan from today, because I know that’s what y’all keep coming back for. 😉


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Mama Guilt

I’ve heard that phrase a thousand times before. Mama guilt. I never really knew what it meant though. Surprisingly, it means exactly what it sounds like it means. Go figure, eh?

Lately, I’ve been a little focused in this whole ‘wedding’ ordeal. I’ve been penny-pinching to the nth degree, and spending the majority of my time stressing over/thinking about the wedding. At the end of May, I had knee surgery. Then Matt’s truck broke down and I was without a car for nearly a month. And then there was the whole “I’m the better mommy” drama from a few weeks back when a couple of girls tried to tell me how to parent, and thus scared me away from my regular schedule of taking Nolan to play group. I didn’t want to see them, because the whole situation pissed me off and when I get pissed off I kind of shut down. I felt judged, I felt as if they were playing the better mommy game and that I was ‘losing’ in their books. I don’t like feeling that way.

I know, it’s horrible. I need to find out how I stop shutting down when I’m pissed off. I’ve sorta been pissed off about a lot of things lately for a while now, and I suppose it’s been affecting my parenting. I haven’t felt like going anywhere. I haven’t felt like doing anything. I’ve been frustrated and angry with my situation and instead of trying to come up with a solution I prefered to hide inside myself and mope about it, then proceeded to withdraw.

Needless to say, for the past little while Nolan and I haven’t really been able to get out of the house for any significant amount of time. Some of it has been beyond my control {knee surgery, no car} but a lot of it has been my fault {the whole withdrawing into myself and being pissed off and shutting down bit}.

Someone {I’m not going to say who, because it really doesn’t matter} told me that they have been annoyed with me because they feel I’m not ‘stimulating’ Nolan enough. I play with him during basically his every waking hour, I try to teach him and I read to him and we do all those lovely things. But, this person? They feel that I’m not doing enough. I don’t take him out enough, he never gets to hang out with other kids his age & this is why he is such a ‘hell raiser’ {which I don’t think is true at all; he’s curious like any other baby, but whatever}, and so on and so forth.

This conversation, needless to say, stung me. Really bad. I know I haven’t been my best lately {on account of I’ve been so withdrawn, depressed and angry not to mention busy trying to plan this wedding without an actual clue on how to plan a wedding}, and we don’t actually know many people and therefore arranging play dates with children Nolan’s age is a little difficult {lordy I wish the two people with kids his age that I knew weren’t so self-righteous…} but I never meant to starve Nolan of ‘stimulation’. {I didn’t know I was doing this; he’s always happy so…yeah?}

This summer was supposed to go a lot better than it is. Yes, I’m getting married and that’s wonderful and exciting and I’m totally stoked and happy about that, don’t get me wrong. But…I’ve just been so frustrated with a few things that I’m trying to work on changing {in my home situation, and my relationships with some of my in-laws}. Not to mention, the shadflies sort of put a major delay on our beach trips {when they are around you can get The Itch from swimming…something I’m obviously wary of…plus they are NASTY}.

But it all is ‘just excuses’, right? The bottom line is I suck. Or, at least, I feel like I suck…especially after that conversation with that person {who isn’t Matt, for the record. He thinks I’m doing an amazing job}.

And thus, the mama guilt is finally here. I feel guilty that I {apparently} haven’t been providing a stimulating-enough environment for Nolan. I feel guilty that I am not more fearless and energetic. I feel guilty that I’m not the mother I thought I’d be. I thought I’d have endless bouts of energy and be able to accomplish everything and more. I thought I’d be planning weekend trips every weekend and going on adventures and just rockin’ this whole parenting business.

Also, as a result of this conversation {and some of the other mini-dramas in my life} I feel more guarded and insecure. Today when we went to play group, I was asked if he’s talking yet, and he isn’t. Someone made a comment about how usually they start talking around this age {15 months}. Total kick to my already low mama-self-esteem. I started thinking {and admittedly, still am thinking} that I’m doing something wrong. Maybe it’s because I don’t take him to the beach enough, or because he doesn’t play with other kids enough, or because I just suck as a parent and didn’t even know it until now.

Sigh. Needless to say I hate mama guilt.

And I know: I shouldn’t let these things get to me. I’m working on that; it’s easier said than done. I want to be the best parent, I really do. I love my boy more than anything in this world and I tell him a thousand times a day. We play together all the time, and yes…I don’t often take him places and I know I need to start, but I thought I was doing a pretty decent job all things considered. I’m still not 100% back on my feet since the surgery, I’ve got less energy lately thanks to other draining matters. And to go out every weekend on those fun weekend trips? Ya it costs money, money that we aren’t exactly rolling in right now.

So ya: post summary: I’ve been feeling like the worst mama in the world as of late, thanks to certain comments being made in my general direction.

I know I’ll feel much better after this weekend; after the wedding. The wedding has been a significant cause of stress in my life, and I’ll be happy to just have it done with and be married {again; I AM excited about getting married, I’m just not enjoying this stressful wedding process}.

And I have plans to get myself out of this rut and out of the house with Nolan:

  • After the wedding, I will be getting Nolan a membership to the YMCA and enrolling him in swimming lessons!
  • In August I have finally talked Matt into a little camping trip. It will just be one night, since it’s our first family camping trip, but still!
  • Also in August: I want to take Nolan to the Toronto Zoo. I know I might be over-reaching with this goal {the zoo is pretty pricey, as are trips down ‘South’}.
  • We’ll be taking more day trips to the waterfront to ride the miniature train and carousel.
  • Add to Nolan’s nursery. I wanted to make some special decorations for it, and get a collage of all his great grandparents and grandparents. I also wanted to find a better solution to the letter issue I’ve been having {his name won’t stay on the wall}. I think I’ve found it; we’re going to mount the letters onto a white antique looking piece of wood and then hang it on the wall like a picture.

And then, there are some things I’m going to do for the greater good of myself {even though I kinda feel like I’ve been thinking about myself entirely too much…sigh}:

  • Get a part or full-time job and enroll Nolan in part or full-time day care. It’ll be nice to actually get my brain thinking again. I miss working at the diner; hopefully I can get that job back…
  • Have a girls night/weekend.

And yeah, that’s really all the ideas I have right now…

Do you ever experience mama guilt? What do you do to ease that feeling and get back into your good mama feeling groove?


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house plants + baby = frustration. TONS of frustration.

House plants + 14 month old = constant headache & frustration, in case you didn’t know.

The house plants are the reason why we kept Nolan ‘blocked off’ in the livingroom, so he couldn’t get into the dinning room and play in the plant dirt. It was an annoyance before we started to block him off, but when the cat decided she was going to use the plant dirt as her personal upstairs cat box {because apparently going all the way downstairs when she was upstairs was just too hard to do}, I needed a solution. Fast. At first, I tried tin foil. It kept {and still keeps} the cat out, but Nolan kept moving it and dumping {DIRTY} dirt all over the carpet. So, we put the coffee table on it’s side and blocked off Nolan’s access to the dinning room. It worked for a while, and works when it’s up, but I felt bad for keeping him so contained.

None of us even like the house plants. They are only still here because my FIL wants to take them to his new place {which he has been in for a week, I might add}. Every time I ask him when he’s going to take the house plants {and the vinyl records under the TV that Nolan likes to get into…I might add} he gets mad. So I don’t ask.

I get frustrated when Nolan doesn’t listen, because I know he knows what ‘no’ and ‘don’t touch’ means. Heck, last week when I decided {I’m freakin’ crazy okay?} to let Nolan loose in the livingroom and dinning room, he listened immediately when I said ‘don’t touch’ and ‘no’. I was so proud, he’d hear my warnings and avoid the plants completely. He’d hear me say ‘no, don’t touch that’ and stop touching whatever it was that he was touching.

But this week? This week he’s decided to act as if he can’t hear me or has no idea what ‘no’ and ‘don’t touch’ means. It’s extremely frustrating. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to vacuum up plant dirt each day, or try to arrange my FIL’s vinyl records. I’m at my wit’s end.

I know, kids don’t listen, I get that. It’s not even that he’s not listening so much as these are things that shouldn’t even still be here, things that if they were staying here I would have insisted we found a new home for them. Well, the vinyl records at least. Vinyls are something I can’t afford to replace. And the plants have always been a pain in the ass – between Nolan and the cat, and the fact that they take up so much space.

Clearly, I’m not a plant person. Or a vinyl record person.

So, to give myself a little break from going insane, I’ve blocked Nolan back into the livingroom. He can still get at the vinyls {and attempts to every. five. minutes} but at least I’m not bringing out the vacuuming a billion times a day. I’ve talked to Matt and since he has a day off he’s going to help me move the plants downstairs & pack up the vinyl records.

At this point, I don’t care if my FIL gets upset. He’s taking both the records and the plants anyway, apparently ‘as soon as possible’, so why should it matter if they’re packed up in a box {or in the plants’ case, moved downstairs} or left up here? Up here just makes me go crazy. This mama doesn’t like going crazy, and things like my toddler throwing plant dirt that could possibly still have cat yuckies in it & breaking into the very expensive record collection makes me crazy.

A part of me feels guilty for wanting to pack up the records and move the plants downstairs. I’m worried that my FIL will get upset and think I’m not being understanding of what he’s going through with the divorce, but I am. I just know my limit, and my limit can not put up with plant dirt and records much longer.

It’s funny how the little things make us crazy, isn’t it? I’m sure that once we remove the plants and records, Nolan will find something else to drive me crazy with, but I’m confident it won’t be like this. At least I won’t worry that he’s ruining irreplaceable vinyl records, or playing with cat shit, right?


Anywho, moving along. Last night Matt had two friends over for drinks. I attempted to have a drink {it was freakin’ nasty} and then went to bed around midnight, exhausted. I can’t do this whole party scene anymore, it blows my mind that Matt can. Matt, who is up at 5am working a really physically demanding job outside in the hot heat all day long, can party better than me.

It’s sad.

Although, when I get drunk, I don’t puke.

So, take that.

The mess they left was pretty hilarious, but I had it cleaned up within the hour. I find it amusing that I don’t mind cleaning up after Matt, but get absolutely irate when I have to clean up after other people. Funny huh? The way I see it: he works hard for us, for our family, so it’s the least I can do.

I still haven’t gotten a chance to clean up the breakfast mess, because Nolan is being pretty high maintenance as of late {getting into everything the moment I avert my eyes…sigh. Such fun} but Matt should be home from the errands I sent him on any minute. Then I’m going to finish cleaning, grab something to eat and go to the flower shop to pay our deposit! I can’t wait to get out of the house by myself for a few minutes. This whole plant/record thing has been driving me up the wall the past week and I need a quick break. Even if it’s just 20 minutes, I know I’ll feel refreshed and happy afterwards. I always do!

This weekend we have tons of plans so I’m sure I’ll be back with something lighthearted and wonderful about how great life is. Right now, I needed that rant to get these frustrations out. You know, since ‘other options’ aren’t available this week.  🙂


Seriously, being a woman sucks.

And also: plants suck.

{side note: white cheddar mac & cheese DOES NOT suck, it rocks.}


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Ignorance in the aisles of Walmart

My little sister, Josephine, came down for a visit on Tuesday and slept over. Tuesday night, we decided to go to Walmart, just so that I could get out of the house for a little while and show her around the town a bit. Plus, I had some birthday money of Nolan’s to spend on him, so yeah.

Anyways, I wore leggings, a skirt, a t-shirt and flip-flops. I was wandering around the main aisle, waiting for Josephine to come back from grabbing a cart and talking on the phone with Matt (asking him what he wanted me to pick up, if anything) when two teenage girls walked by. One of them stared at my foot and started laughing and elbowed her friend, pointing at my foot. Her friend chimed in with the laughter and said “OMG, look at her toes! That is so gross” as if I wasn’t even there.

I froze, mid sentence, and felt my heart drop into my stomach. I was extremely embarrassed, held frozen in place by that embarrassment and in that single moment they were able to walk away laughing, looking over their shoulder at me.

Then the anger set in. I couldn’t believe those two young girls had the balls to openly point and laugh at someone for being different. I mean sure, my crooked toes aren’t the cutest, but seriously? Who raised them? MTV?

I was angry. I wanted to go up to them and say “Yeah, that will be five bucks please. If you’re gonna stare at me like I’m a freak show, you might as well pay me for my embarrassment” but didn’t, because I’m honestly not that ballsy (although, I totally wish I WAS).

It also made me extremely sad and worried about Nolan’s future. When I wear flip-flops or sandals or any other kind of shoe that displays those toes, I catch a lot of people staring. Most of them? They don’t school their features. The disgust clearly shows. It’s embarrassing. It’s one of the [millions] of reasons why I have such a horrible body image. It’s one thing to try to rise above it and think positively, but when you’re actually in the moment with people staring and even laughing and pointing at you, it’s hard to hold too that ‘everyone is beautiful’ mindset. It’s hard to feel confident. It’s hard to feel anything but embarrassed, insecure, and low as all hell.

I don’t want Nolan to ever feel the way I felt in Walmart the other night, and so…I’m asking all of you to do me a favour. If your eyes are drawn to something different and strange about someone, something that isn’t exactly society’s definition of “beautiful”….please don’t stare. Please don’t point and laugh. Chances are, you’re making that person feel uncomfortable and embarrassed. Chances are, you’re hurting them. If you see someone else doing this to a person, and that person is frozen with the emotions of having a physical feature laughed at, please speak out and say “not cool”, because chances are the person that they’re laughing at is too insecure and embarrassed to stand up for themselves, as I was in Walmart the other night. Had I been able to reach the anger emotion faster, I sure as shit would have [tried] to say something.


Filed under annoyances, challenges, dumbass people, genetically mutated, I don't know, imperfections; perfections, insecurties, issues, just thoughts, not so funny shit, pain, pictures, scars, self image, stuff that bites, the bad, the difficult, the ugly

On Young Motherhood, struggles and other such things.

I haven’t exactly been honest about this whole parenting gig. I mostly only talk about the really great stuff, as Jessica from Letters From The Heart pointed out in her post. I mean sure, while I was pregnant and a new mom I did occasionally write a really emotional post about how I was having a difficult time with such and such, but I shouldered a lot of the responsibility for things and kept a lot of the “difficulties“ I was having to myself.

The other day, my cousin-in-law was over with a friend of hers, and that’s when I found out that this friend of hers is pregnant. I had to school my emotions so they wouldn’t show on my face. My cousin-in-law (and her friend) are around 15-16 years of age. Her friend has decided not to keep the baby, and she’s pretty torn up about it. But this poor girl has no support what so ever from her family or the guy who knocked her up. His family would also not be supportive.

It’s her decision, 100%, and my heart aches for her, for her needing to make that difficult decision at such a young age. As I’ve said a billion times before, I am pro-choice. It’s not a decision I could ever make, but I respect that sometimes, it’s the best option. The girl made a passing comment about how she wishes she was in a position to keep it, and JDC shared with her some of the situations and difficulties that I have had, even with full support from both our families and Matt’s help. This girl would have nobody. I didn’t say anything, because I didn’t want to influence one way or another…it’s her decision, not mine, but it did get me thinking about my experiences over the past few years.

When I found out was pregnant, I was hell set on keeping it, no matter what the cost. I didn’t think about how having a baby would impact my fresh relationship with my now fiancé, and I am one of the lucky ones. I am lucky that it didn’t destroy us, because we went from having zero responsibility and zero care about anything but each other to needing to grow the fuck up and mature all in a matter of 9 months.

It was a slow and tedious process. Matt wanted to keep Nolan too, he never mention the “A“ word at all, and he’s a great dad, but he definitely wasn’t ready to be a dad. The idea of being a dad was fine and great, as was the idea of being a mom, but we knew so little about everything. We both had a serious amount of growing up to do. We both made stupid decisions with money, and we both fought like cats and dogs when Nolan was a newborn. We didn’t know how to equalize things. We didn’t realize how bad sleep deprivation and exhaustion and having a somewhat colic baby would affect us. We didn’t realize that our negative emotions (stress, worry, frustration, exhaustion) would affect our son and make him even harder to calm down. I was tightly wound for the first few months of Nolan’s life.

And I didn’t say anything. Not really, anyway. I was afraid of hearing “I told you so” or attempting that I really couldn’t handle it as great as I could.

I handled it well enough, I think. The constant stress of wondering if we were going to make rent and have anything left over for diapers and formula was wearing, I think I may have developed a few ulcers. The embarrassment of hitting up the food bank because we just couldn’t afford everything for Nolan and groceries for ourselves also impacted me a lot.

And I had a ton of support. But I didn’t like to use it, because I was afraid and scared they would think I couldn’t handle being a mom. It was hard. I was embarrassed that we couldn’t afford groceries after all was said and done. I was embarrassed that we both were struggling so much with not having enough money. Babies are really fucking expensive. And we both don’t have college educations, and Matt’s job wasn’t the greatest. And and and and…the list is endless, and toss in a bunch of stupid purchases and you have two people very buried in debt and confusion. We had a lot of love in our house, but still. We never regretted the decision to have Nolan, we just regretted the life we were now living, because babies are expensive and all that.

We made the decision to move up North because we were drowning down South. We couldn’t give Nolan the sort of life he deserved if we stayed down there, we needed to get back on our feet and save money and get out of debt. We needed to finish school and get career jobs that would allow us to never be in the same position we were for the first 7 months of Nolan’s life.

We are lucky. We have a lot of help, and sometimes I still find it overwhelming. Like Emmie Bee said in her beautifully written post yesterday, we can’t experience the extreme highs if we don’t first (or also) experience lows. I have been depressed, I have felt beaten down and useless. I felt like a failure every time I had to go to the food bank to get us food. I felt useless any time I couldn’t figure out why Nolan was upset. But I keep it to myself, because it’s my way of “manning up” about it. I did sign up for this when I decided to become a mom. I knew it wasn’t always going to be rainbows and butterflies.

I think that if I had waited until I was older, I would handle things a lot differently. That doesn’t mean I regret having Nolan, because I totally don’t, but any time I hear of yet another young person wanting a kid like RIGHT NOW, it makes me anxious. For them, for the baby, for everyone involved. My pregnancy was hard on all of our family members. It was hard on us. We’re making it, but we take it day by day. I’m proud of how far we’ve both come, but it’s taken us a while to figure out certain shit. I’m lucky that we are still in love, we are still passionate about each other, but with that being said, we’ve had our Earth shattering fights and arguments. We’ve been to the edge and back, and then back to the edge and back again.

And it’s really not that all the secrets of motherhood aren’t being shared, it’s just something that you have to go into knowing that things aren’t always going to be amazing. Babies need a hell of a lot of care, and they sure as shit don’t have a pause or mute button. We often shrug off the not so awesome parts because we just don’t want anyone to think we can’t handle parenthood.

So I have a message to all the young girls out there who are pregnant/want to get pregnant/young moms; it’s doable, but it’s the hardest thing you will ever do. It’s rewarding, but it’s the hardest thing you will ever do. There are extreme, EXTREME highs in this parenting good and extreme lower than lows. It’s a lifetime commitment, and you don’t get breaks from being a parent. You sacrifice a hell of a lot for many MANY years, and while there are rewards…you still miss out on a lot of the things you’re friends and peers are doing.

So, seriously…think twice about having a baby NOW, because you can still have one in five or six or ten years and it will still be the same, you’ll just have more life experience and patience to deal with it. Trust me, mixing teenage hormones with pregnancy and new mom hormones is no easy thing. Just…throw caution to the wind, my friends.

That being said…this is not impossible. It’s hard, it really truly is, but it’s not impossible. If you have the drive you can most definitely succeed. NONE of us, no matter what position/state of mind we are when we become moms, do this parenting gig 100% perfectly all the time. I fail many times during a day, as does everyone else. But if there’s one thing I never fail at, it’s trying. I try my hardest to be a good mom, to be what I think my son needs. I love him with all my heart and I tell him a kazillion times each day. I make sure he eats healthy and gets more than enough to eat. I make sure he sleeps and I try to teach him good, important lessons and behaviours.

I don’t always succeed in the teaching him good behaviours department, after all…I have a biter for a kid, but I work at it every day. I strive to be the best that I can. I may not always be as patient as I want to be, I may yell and lose my cool like 8 times a day when my son doesn’t stop chomping off chunks of my skin and I may need to take breaks and cry out into a pillow in pure frustration. But, we all do it.

And, it will definitely be ok.


This post was really about a shitload of things I’ve been wanting to write about for a while now. I hope it all makes sense, but it probably doesn’t because I so rarely make sense these days.

And, I finally captured Nolan walking on video yesterday. Well, kind of…it’s mostly a video of him being a silly pants but I did catch a couple steps towards the end there. You have to click on that link to go view it, since, you know…I can’t actually SHOW the video in my blog (can someone PLEASE tell me how I change that, or if I can? I’ve got WordPress hosting…sigh).


Filed under bitchin' and moanin', imperfections; perfections, life as I know it, linkage, mama musings, not so funny shit, oh my life, this crazy train, thoughts, worry wart, writing