The wrong way

Have you ever noticed that going through things together with your significant other either strengthens you as a couple or shows you a side you didn't know existed, or maybe ignored? Pappa Starbucks and I have been through a lot over the past year, good things and unforgettable experiences (like our trip to Europe for two months) and bad things (like graduating from college with no job prospects and coming back from Europe to not have a "home" anymore). Little Berry is a dream, but sometimes I get worn out being with her all day and let's face it, baby's don't measure out what they want from you in little request throughout the day. They want everything, they want it all the time, and they want it right away.
Sometimes I feel like I am failing to teach her patience, and just focusing on teaching her love, how to be happy, that I love her being sweet.
I know there is a balance. And from any outside view, we're doing a great job. But we disagree so intensely on the small issues that the big issues become pushed to the back of our minds. I know this is a recipe for disaster. I know that parenting is hard. Loving her is just the reward, the special reason that being a parent is worth it and the reason we all keep going daily. I have so much that I want for my life, and so much that I want for her life, and so much that I want for Pappa Starbucks' life that I don't know what to do first, where to put my passion. I want to do it all, and all well, but I'm not capable of that.
I take responsibility for other people's dreams and projects and desires, people not in my immediate three- and I do the best I can for them, but at the same time I am afraid I might be letting down the people who DO count on me. I can't be in charge of everyone's happiness and yet I want for us to all be happy. There is perhaps an easier way to say this, but it feels like I am being an underachiever because the only other option is to do everything, for everyone, so I please the people I know I can please, and I let the rest fall by.
I want to please, I have always been eager to make people happy. There are reasons for this, reasons I am just now beginning to understand but not willing to admit. There are consequences to treating myself and my partner and my daughter like we are last on our on list, but I don't know how to begin stripping away all of the problems and commitments that don't make me a better person, who I want to be, who I am, and focus on the ones that do. I am going the wrong way to get to my dreams but I am going to fast to notice it.

24 things

24 things because It's my 24th birthday!
Sweet things I love:
1) My Little Berry
2) My wonderful Pappa Starbucks
3) "Crazy" by Seal
4) Handmade toys
5) Phish Food ice cream from Ben and Jerry's
6) Co-sleeping
7) Vintage children's books
8) Sewing
9) Dogs
10) The color yellow
11) Bicycle rides
12) City life (and the bookstores that come with that)
13) Chap stick
14) Mint, paprika, rosemary, lavender....
15) Trader Joe's (and their mangoes!)
16) Sunshine
17) Rain
18) Pride and Prejudice
19) Chocolate
20) Cloth diapers-I'm especially loving the Bum Genius right now
21) These printable bookplates
22) These sweet fabrics
23) Vintage paper dolls like these
24) My new etsy shop! More dolls coming soon!

Today, dear

I have been bitter, angry. I am impatient and I feel like a spoiled child. My temper has grown increasingly shorter, like a roll of bubble tape that's being chomped on very quickly. At first I understood my feelings as being a part of new motherhood. I am trying to come into my own, I don't want to leave my children feeling they are a devastating creation, and yet I also want them to have independence. Freedom.
But I haven't even started being OK with leaving Little Berry. I wonder if I am imagining it, but all around me I see women whose grip is looser than my own. And yet they seem happy. Happy. A feeling that eludes me even in the sweetest moments. I feel like I'm hyped up on a drug, addicted. To spending time with my daughter.
I wouldn't even feel like it was negative though if my husband didn't resent it. I feel like you don't want any "us time" anymore he says. People said all of the romance would go out of the relationship but I didn't think it would be like this. I blame part of it on my return to school so quickly. Leaving the two week old babe was just so fricking hard. I worked very hard to have the birth I wanted, quiet, unmedicated, at a center that lets you go home three hours after the baby is born.
And when I got home, company. He had decided to invite people over, just four hours after I had the baby, oh.
This has created tension between us as well. I had wanted the first night to be just us. A new family, before the hubbub of visitors. And though it sounds like a small insignificant thing, it is one of the largest reasons I chose to go natural. I wanted to come home the same day. To be a mamma in my own home.
I am still extraordinarily hormonal. I saw a young lady my own age last night at The Chlidren's Place. My baby just turned one she said. I hardly ever get to spend time with her because I'm a manager here. It was late, too. It was 10:00pm on a Friday night. I turned into a puddle of tears, pity really, for this woman, whose baby was merely 4 months older than my own. But she wasn't sorry. She was happy, it was her choice. She was doing it because it was what worked for her, and I pitied because I would have wanted something else.
The judgmental nature of women against other women seems to be a perpetual cycle. We know better than to say critical, snarky things to each other. We have nothing to fear, no true reason to compete. I have become guarded against the words of my own mother you're looking good, dear. Loosing some of that tummy finally now huh? And bitter at the words of others, too. Last week a dear friend told me she did hope I wasn't planning on breastfeeding until she was three! I was shocked at her, surprised. I wanted to snap back first it's none of your business how long I breastfeed my baby, but the global average is 7! I had a complete reserve of angry things to say, but she was my friend. I hadn't prepared to use my weapons on a friend, I felt like I needed to dull them first.
So I told her the truth. I'm planning on breastfeeding until she's three, yes. I was breastfed until I was 4. And though my mother made me feel guilty about it throughout my childhood, I think she did it in my best interest.
This battle: how other women feed their babies? It needs to stop. How long your wife decides to nurse your daughter/ son? That battle needs to stop too. Especially when it's founded on words like
shameful
indecent
weird
creepy
nasty
etc
Because really, really, it's just feeding a baby.
The other thing is this- I don't know how long it takes a body to heal from childbirth normally, but I'd expected to be done by now. And the endless litany of complaints I've taken to my midwives is exhausting in itself. Granted, we've not had the easiest time. Little Berry has had Thrush since she was born, and I cannot get her pediatrician to treat it. They keep giving me ridiculous answers, like that yeast doesn't live in your gut...that if there are no signs of it, then she doesn't have it. Their only way of evaluating her is by the white patches in her mouth, and since I have had a running diagnosis of it myself, I know she has it as well. And yes, I have tried everything...
And Europe, we're going to Europe. I've never even flown, but we're going. For goodness knows how long. Maybe six, eight, twelve weeks. Three months. Pappa Starbuck's job search is getting frantic, but surely it will work out. Surely.

Why I hate hamsters

When I was in high school, I would make money by nannying, and working on a horse ranch. Coincidentally, the family who owned the horses lived right next to the family I nannied for, so at times I was doing both at once. The kids I nannied for were old enough to take care of themselves but not to be left alone for days. They needed help getting to school, picking up after themselves, fixing dinner, that sort of thing. The horse farm had 23 horses (7 in stalls, the rest were in pasture) and a herd of longhorn steer. Don't ask how many of those fella's there were because I kept away.

The family I nannied for usually hired me for extended periods while the parents were away on trips, so I would spend say four days with the kids getting them to school, fixing their lunches, taking them to sports games, that sort of thing. In the mornings I would get up super early and go over to the horse farm and feed, water all the animals, and then clean stalls and make sure everything was OK for the day. This was mostly while the lady who owned the animals was out of town as she liked to go to rodeo events in Texas every few weeks. Then I would go back to the kids' house, shower, fix breakfast and get them to school, after which I took myself to the community nursing home where I was doing clinical rotations for my CNA certification as part of a dual enrollment. After that, I went to school myself.

FYI, on the mornings that I didn't nanny beforehand, I went to school smelling like I'd cleaned up a barn. This was of course, very pleasant.

During one particularly long stay with the children and caring for the animals at the horse ranch, I took the girls out to eat for dinner one night. At this time, I drove an OLD one of these The previous owner was my youngest brother, who is notorious for being bad on cars. Anyway, the girls and I piled into my car and went to a local pizza place It's known for its buffet style (which in photos will always be shown filled to the brim) and for its breadsticks.

Unbeknownst to me, the middle girl had been given hamsters for her birthday present a few weeks before, and she snuck the little critter into her pocket before we left for dinner. This is the part of the story I will never understand. Her motivation could not have been anything but the 'cutsey' factor, but she clearly knew we were going to dinner. And yet.

I'm sure at this point in the story you think you know what happens, right?

Wrong.

About halfway to the restaurant, I felt something under my foot. As in the foot that was pressing the gas pedal and controlling the brake, because at this time I hadn't had a baby
and therefore could get my leg up there thought it was cool to drive with one foot propped up on the driver's seat. And one on the pedals. Imagine my surprise, then, when something MOVED under my foot. (This was akin to the time I felt a spider on me in the shower which is a really scary story I will save for some other time).

When I screamed, hit my breaks and pulled the car over the girls all began panicking. I thought at this point there was a wild (and therefore potentially rabid) squirrel, mouse, rat, or something else living in my car. I knew this was possible because months earlier, one had built a nest under my never opened hood and chewed almost all the way through my power steering belts, so they broke while I was going down the road.

During the chaos, I hear the middle girl start squealing. "Honey! Where is Honey! I can't find Honey!!! Where is she!!!" And immediately put two and two together. "You brought your Hamster? What on earth were you thinking?? We're going to DINNER. Not to the PET STORE. A HAMSTER has no business in a RESTAURANT!!!!"

Dinner was ruined. She cried the whole time, even though I called her parents and we talked about what had happened. Of course she was distraught. She had lost her new, beloved hamster and her parents would not buy her another one. She was miserable, thinking about how the critter had probably crawled out of the car and would never be seen again, to be eaten by some feral cat or die of starvation. I tried to reassure her by saying that Honey would probably be living near the restaurant, and eating all the leftovers that got tossed. She could even 'sort-of' visit Honey by coming to eat here.

I thought it was over, and I felt really terrible about the poor creature. I wanted to buy her another one, but as the weeks went by her parents continued to refuse to let me, on the grounds that her actions were irresponsible.

About a month later, I went out one morning and my car wouldn't start. I tried everything, and finally gave up, chalking it up to a dead battery or just an old, worn out car. We had it towed, and I dreaded the bills. I only had the car because my parents refused to drive me to school and insisted I have a car- the bills on it were ridiculous and I was wore out from working just to have it. They ran some scans and determined that it was an issue with the car's security system, that it had been triggered and therefore would not start as a safety mechanism.

They took the dashboard apart and lo and behold, in a tangle of chewed through wires found the cute little Honey. My bill from them read as follows:

Removed Dashboard. Found Hamster living there. Security trigger mechanism found. Replaced wires.

Total bill to completely replace my security system? Over $3000. And that is why I nominate Honey as the America's most expensive hamster.

 

 

 

Money baby,money

A few weeks ago, Pappa Starbucks and I were talking about making our lives more user-friendly. We examined our budget, because we’ve been striving hard to manage our money better. And we found some large ways to cut our costs. First, we decided that much of what we do is destructive to our lives instead of constructive.
For example, we both need to eat healthier and take better care of ourselves so that in the long term, we get sick less, and will miss less school or work, and so the baby stays healthier. This means eating better, keeping our home cleaner (getting rid of and collecting less stuff). There are things that we need still and we cannot afford (for example, I need a new post-baby wardrobe for winter), but also, there are things we buy that we do not need (i.e. more pacifiers for the baby).
We also have started eating many more meals at home, and packing food to eat when we leave. He has started drinking more coffee in our kitchen, and much less in his car and at the local *$.The baby needed some hats, and so I made them from old onesies she outgrew instead of dropping $10 for three at Target.
As students, we’re still learning how to manage our money at all, but as new parents, there are a million things we never considered we would need to watch. It’s easy to get caught up in consumerism as new parents: for example, we recently went on a spree of spending, despite the economy’s bad shape. However, it was on a micro level, and our tab only came to about $200. We got the top things we’d been wanting as new parents, and I don’t regret any of them- we thought, and thought about each purchase and resisted a long time. But now that we have them, they DO help us enjoy being new parents more than having that extra $200 sitting in the bank. The purchases?
A car mirror for traveling so Pappa could see the baby when I’m not in the car to soothe her , a Bumbo seat AND tray, even though she’s just 2 months old (we bought that in blue, too, just in case someday we have a boy..). Then there's the Peanut Shell sling for me, something I had wanted since before I had her, and I wish I had got sooner. This isn't a product recommendation, but I will tell you...it was WELL worth it.
The only thing I would have done differently, is, silly me- shopped for these items second hand (like, for example, maybe on Ebay, if I weren't a dim wit). Since they’re all lightweight, I could have probably got them at great prices and shipped cheaply. We did search for coupons online first though!
The other change we are in the process of making is reducing our dependence on plastic grocery bags. I’d like to say it’s all because I’m environmentally conscious, but I really just hate having all those plastic bags taking up space in my kitchen. Currently, we use them for doggy poo...which sucks when they are a bit holy.
The other bit of wisdom we have learned is to earn our credit card points. I never had credit cars before, but now I am learning to use those cards in my advantage. (HOWEVER, we make sure to never, ever, under any circumstance even so much as think about carrying a balance. It's scares me so much to think about getting into debt that I wont use the card if I know we can't go straight home and pay for the item). This means store cards and other kinds, as well as those points’ cards stores give you, which often come with being put on a coupon list as well. Most mailing lists I loathe, but free coupons are always nice if they’re for something I will use. And for the rest, I’ve started sending them to a sister in law, who in turn sends me her unused baby coupons. It’s a win-win for all, except the cat: no one seems to have one, and you’d be surprised how many cat coupons we get each week. Maybe we should start looking for a kitten : )