Stab at it

I'm testing out this blogging thing. I've been a mom for 16 weeks now and I feel like I have alot to write about it. So here goes.

I am astonished by how badly women treat each other. Is it that we are so insecure in our own decisions, and so insecure about our insecurity that we feel the need to belittle women who do something different than we do? And where is the line between sharing our ideas with other women and criticizing their technique. It is SO touchy. WE are so touchy. I know I am. On one hand I would love to talk at length with other mothers on what they do, but on the other hand I don't want them judging me. Can't I listen to advice and decide what to heed and what to dismiss without getting edgy about it? I want HELP people. Not a task master.

So that said... I guess now I can just write about some of my motherhood hardships. Noah sleeps well at night. But he is still sleeping on top of me. Not just in our bed, but physically on top of me. I'm not sure how this happened except that I was so paranoid about SIDS that I didn't even want to put him down to sleep. The first couple of weeks I slept propped up, which wasn't super comfortable. Now I am almost fully reclined and Noah is wedged between my really enormously large and annoying breasts. At least they are good for something other than back pain. Well, and the nursing. And I know I have to start putting him down at night. He can't sleep on me forever. And I think he may eventually sleep longer if he sleeps in the bassinet. But the first couple of nights that I transition him are going to be hell. So that is delaying me. Plus he so easily wakes me up when he wants to be fed that he doesn't have to get to become fully awake when I feed him - and therefore he just drifts right back to sleep. And plus, I'll miss him. He is so sweet, warm and cuddly nestled in close to me. So I'm also being a bit selfish about it. I guess it is just one of the million steps that my child will be taking away from me.

Have I mentioned that he is absolutely positively adorable? He is. I can't adequately express how much I love him. How my heart flutters when I think about him. It's more than I ever imagined it to be. I can get a bit bored at home all day, and sometimes he can be pretty high maintenance, but I am SO thankful for him, and for this chance to be home with him. It really is astonishing.

So despite the imperfections I am glad to be home. One of those imperfections being that we are poor. I try to let Mark worry about the money. Mostly because I suck with money. I only have two modes with money. Either I can spend it but not with any real ability to watch every cent or I can't spend it and I feel panicked because we are destitute. I'm not a big spender. In fact I am pretty cheap about most things. Like I have a set price that I won't exceed for things. For instance I would never spend more than $40 on a pair of jeans or $25 for a shirt. My problem is not amount spent on items - but more on number of items purchased. I buy too many jeans and shirts that I never end up wearing because I never feel like I have the RIGHT pair. So I waste money. And my biggest problem with money is that I don't feel like money you spend to go places and do things should count. Meaning you can really on spend alot of money if you have THINGS to show for it. But if you went out to dinner, to the movies, to the zoo - that money shouldn't count against you.

And have I mentioned that I am fat. I gained 70 pounds during my pregnancy! I have lost 40 pounds already, but I have another 30 to go. I have this nasty bag of fat around my stomach that makes wearing anything good impossible. However I am not dieting because I am breast feeding. And honestly I don't want to diet yet. My lord. If I had to diet and breastfeed too then I might die of aggravation. Breastfeeding is important and bonding and all that. But my breasts were already too big and now they are humongous and sore. I promised myself that I would breastfeed for six months, and I am doing it. But God, I can't wait to stop. I can't wait to not wear a bra. To fit into some of my old shirts and to wear more supportive bras. I will feel like a real live person again once I stop breastfeeding. May won't come soon enough for me. And hopefully my breasts will shrink just in time for spring to come and before baggy sweaters are not wearable.

So I guess this is my first blog entry. What a meandering mess. Oh well. Better luck next time.