Little House on the Hilltop

It's all coming together. I love our little house. I always have. But it was just that little. Maybe even tiny. Hubby built it with his own two hands and we always planned to add on later. The day I found out I was preggo with Bug he started plans. Realistic plans. Doubling our home from a mere 500sq ft to 1000. When I went into labor he had accomplished the shell and Windows. Oh MY WINDOWS! Prisoners have bigger Windows then I in the original house. But I hunted for at least three hours at a window boneyard and found not only matching huge Windows but a sliding glass door as well. So proud! After Bug came he quickly finished all electrical, plumbing, painting and we moved in floors be damned. In the last couple of weeks my wonderful Hubby built a river rock hearth built with rocks we collected trying to push me into labor, sea shells from our first date, and then we cemented bugs foot into the perfect spot. My father in law welded us a gorgeous cast iron fireplace. And then we picked out redwood flooring. He has worked so hard. And our dream is almost complete. Our house grows as our family does. We have provided a stable loving home for our daughter all the while maintain our loving relationship. I dont know how I got so lucky. Maybe soon we will have to plan another addition for a new little Bug, here's to keeping our fingers crossed.

Catching Up

Whew! I was starting to worry I would never find the time and energy to write again. But here I am. So much has happened this month I don't really know where to start. Bug now has three teeth. All bottom front ones. She got them all at the same time. She had every symptom I have ever read that babies get. I'm talking no sleep, cranky, fever of 102, diarrhea, her first ever diaper rash. Basically mommy hell. But I pushed through it, trusted my instincts, ignored all the oh my god your babys sick go to the ER now. And we came through. Bug is also full on crawling. Cruising along anything she can get her hands on. And CLIMBING! Wtf. Only a stubborn child of my loins would try to climb things before she can walk. This means I have spent most waking hours covering light sockets, moving things up a shelf or three, and basically rescuing my girl from whatever perch she gets herself onto. She is also saying a clear mummum now. So freakin cute. Hubby is a little, ok a lot, jealous. His main goal in life is teaching her about dada now. I also tried going back to work and no matter how much water I drank or how often I pumped my milk started drying up. In like 3 days I could only pump 2 ounces total. So I headed to my local health store bought some fenugreek and mothers love more milk plus. I have to take 18 pills a day, my body, urine, and baby smell like maple syrup now (yum in a weird way) but I have more milk then i did before I went to work. Talked it over with Hubby and we aren't ready to wean yet and I don't want to take any chances so I'm back home now for the foreseeable future. But he also has some down time right now so we are getting a lot done on our home. Yippy! Today he put together over half of our new rock fireplace hearth. Beautiful. The rocks were collected from family land while I was over due with Bug. We were hoping the manual labor would push me over the edge. Nope. I also scattered in some of the sea shells he and i collected on our first date. Plus we left a little spot blank and cemented Bugs foot forever onto our mantle. So freakin cute. I am getting sleepy and Bug will wake soon so I will end here for now. I will try to get back here more often.

To Work or Not to Work That is The Question

Before my Bug came along I had my own house cleaning business. We live in a small close nit community and I did well. I made my own hours, was my own boss, and I had a full clientele of people I felt were in genuine need of my service. Not just lazy sobs. I put all that on hold when I was pregnant and after much debate with Hubby we decided we would rather he work full time in construction and carpentry and have me home with Bug. Being home all the time was such a change.I have had at least a part time job my whole life since I was 14. If not a full and part time while going to school. After a while at home I thought I would go insane but with summer came vegetable gardening, hiking, swimming, picnics, days at the beach. You get the idea. Plus I was able to breastfeed on demand. Cloth diaper. Wear my baby. Attachment parenting in my own crazy way. It's worked out very well for us. But this week it started to rain. Ugh. And in passing conversation I mentioned to Hubby that a couple of my clients have called and wanted me to come back. Enough clients to provide a full half week of work. And I have to admit I'm tempted. I could pay all my own bills again. Supporting myself has always been of the utmost importance to me because let's face it my parents never could support themselves. I take pride that all my bills are paid in full and on time if not early. And to be able to do this myself is the cherry on my sunday. Hubby pointed out we do have his parents who are willing to take Bug on the days i would work. But its not the same. I look at her and try to picture what our days would be like and I know they love her but they don't love her like me. Honestly Hubby and in-laws just dont get my parenting. I constantly hear how I'm spoiling her. I'm to quick to feed for comfert. I don't allow her to just cry it out. Just wait you will cave eventually they say. Bug is 33 weeks tomorrow. There is no caving. My question is how do I let go? I have to return to work sooner or later. Do I get her used to people not jumping the second she needs something? Or do I trim my budget and pride, let Hubby cover our expenses and raise my daughter the way I see fit?

The Mamma Cave

Hubby built our very modest home with his own two hands. Just himself no help. Well I painted . And because of budget we have kept thing very simple and low key. Except for the bathtub/shower. Imagine if you will a walk in all black steamy haven. When showering under our dual temp double head shower you are standing in our six foot whirlpool bath tub. Eight pulsating jets of bliss. We have a couple friends that have whirlpool baths or outdoor hot tubs. They never use them. We swore if we were going to put that much money into something we would use it. I took that promise to heart.
The majority of my days I will take a half hour or longer mini vacation. Hubby will watch Bug without complaint and I will take a good book and better microbrew and turn both shower heads as hot as I can stand sit in the tub and let the hot water melt away everything. Drink my beer and yes read a book as the shower steams up more and more.I will be beat red before Hubby reminds me that we have a limited amount of water on hand and I will have to hike a quarter mile straight up hill to pump more in the morning so by evening I can start the whole process over again. it is my guilt escape. I try to explain to Hubby that its a craving from childhood. My parent were broke my whole life. Well honestly they always found enough money for cigerettes, beer, and meth. Just not luxeries like hot water. or a phone. Or food. I think i can count the years they had hot water on one hand. For my whole life. In highschool I spent hours boiling water to fill the tub a couple inches. So a tub like ours. An on-demand hotwater heater and our own spring and water pump. I am in heaven! i would write more but i think I hear my mamma cave calling.

Sit down, Hold on, and Shut up!

I don't think I drive that fast. But I do come from a long line of race car, motorcycle racer, dare devil drivers. It must just be in my blood. Awhile ago when I was about four or five months preggo with Bug a group of my girlfriends and I were hanging out and it was decided we should all drive the 15 or so miles down to the river to cool off. Not many of my friends had rode with me at this point and the ones who had just smiled assured them I was Pregnant and a good driver and kind of herded the unsuspecting newbies into my crew cab pickup. It was myself and four girls with a dog in the truckbed. Two of the girls are from out of the area. I didn't think that to them our narrow, curvy, steep, somewhat beaten roads are a little intimidating all on their own. I've lived here my whole life. I drive these roads all the time. I know what my truck can and cannot do.( I've pushed the poor thing pretty hard) and I was pregnant. I wasn't going to risk my babys life so to me I was actually going slower then normal. I don't think the girls saw it that way. My manic laughter and sick twisted sense of humor probably wasnt to reassuring either.two miles in we hit the paved road. I rolled down all the Windows and turned up Bob Marley. Completely in my element and confident. Having a great time actually. I start to notice no one is talking or singing along to the music all of them are clutching their seatbelts with white nuckled hands. One is actually starting to silently cry. My front passanger has one foot on the dashboard, both hands on the roof and starts to scream we surrender. We surrender. I had to slow down then. I was laughing so hard I was crying. When we reached our destination everyone tumbles out as fast as they can. Austin looks at me shakes her head and says " dude! I thought I would be safe with the pregnant one!" I don't know why they all found other rides back to the party.

Sprinkler Alarm

Bug has not been sleeping well. She starts off in her crib for 3 or 4 hours but round 1am ever night she wakes up and screams until we go collect yet for her first night time feeding. I usually fall alseep during this and wake round 4 am to put her back in her crib for another 3 hours. But this last week she hasn't slept between being put in our bed and being indignantly ejected from our bed. She has decided beating me is more fun then sleep. So she slaps, pinches, kicks, bites, flails, and gnaws on me instead. I sleep through most of this.
Until last night. Growing up with hillbilly parents I am not unaccustomed to sleeping out in the open night air. In my sleepy stupor last night I thought I was outside and it was raining. When I pulled myself awake I realized I was in bed. On my back. With my breast shooting milk straight up and back down in my face. Wtf! So not fair.

Being a Mom is Hard Work!

I have almost thrown my back out this week. I don't think I have ever been this sore in my whole life. And I have a tyrant to take care of. But what a cute tyrant she is.
Bug has almost learned to crawl. She will be 7 months next week. I cannot believe how big and strong she is getting. And now that she is slow yet mobile I realized something. Well 2 things actually. 1) our house is currently and will remain, a construction zone. 2) there is no way to baby proof a construction zone. I never knew something so small could be so evil. Boundary pusher. She gets close to something she knows she isn't supposed to have like an extension cord and will look over to see if I am watching. Then slowly put her hand out while gageing my reaction. If I say no don't touch, owie, bad, or yucky she starts to smile really big and wait for me to look away before repeating it all over again. So friggin hard not to laugh.
We have been enjoying this last week together so much. Couple of days just her and I playing in the sunshine. Then family time for a few days. I even stole my 11 year old niece for an overnight help out session. She held bug and followed me around while I tackled projects that have been put off for to long, like the laundry and washing Windows. All in all a pretty great week.

My Bug

I haven't had a lot of? time to write lately. Frankly its been to hot to be inside and Bug and I have taken advantage of this shady spot down by our vegetable garden. Laying there for hours on end. Watching the butterflies flutter by and the squirls chase each other. As I also usually post from my phone this is the first post from a computer I thought I would give people a little glimps at a little tyrant that holds my heart in the palm of her hand.

I hope everyone has been enjoying their summer as much as we have!

Birth of a Bug

I thought I was ready. I spent ten and a half months reading every pregnancy and birth book I could get my hands on. While I worked I listened to hour upon hour of birthing podcast. I made my plan. I should have known better.
We live two hours from my backup hospital. I was never nervous, I honestly didn't think I would need it. Women have been doing this since the beginning of the beginning. And I hate hospitals. My dad spent half his life in one. Not for me, and I was right about that.
I had two wonderful midwives and my tiny home was all set. The only problems we could see were 1) bug had her hands on top of her stubborn little head and 2) my midwives were leaving for Africa two weeks after my due date. I am always early to everything so my daughter will not be late I told myself and my team. Ha.
My due date comes and go. Every little twinge I think this is it, here we go. And nothing. Finally ten days late on Wednesday February 9 I go to my first ever acupuncture appointment praying for help. My midwives are packing their bags to fly out of the freakin country in six days not to mention my birthday is in five. I have horrible birthdays. That should have been a clue.
After my apt. I go for a fast waddle. I make 3 miles in 50 minutes with a contraction here and there. I have been 75 % effaced and 1cm dilated for a month. I have eaten pineapples I even rocked on my nieces trampoline, hell I took captor oil three times and tried every herbal concoction made to make women go into labor. Nothing.
I go to bed and wake up Thursday February 10th at 9 am to a soaked bed. Yippy! We call the midwives they ask all kinds of questions. No I am not contracting. Yes I feel fine. No I would like some time alone. Hubby and I lay in bed making out and trying nipple stimuli which produces a couple weak contractions but overall not much is happening. Friday February 11th my midwives come up mostly to calm my family down. I will not let anyone see me. I hate being in pain, I don't handle it well. Frankly I get real real mean. So I kept everyone away until then. Midwives show up give me the human hand puppet routine and still nothing. Obviously something is emotionally wrong and my body is stalling they tell me. So I am forced to talk about every problem I have ever had. Ever. And boy howdy my life is not all sunshine and roses. But I think I have handled it pretty darn well thank you very much. Still nothing. I beg for one more night at home before they make me go to the birthing center. My water has been broken for 36 hrs now. But as long as bugs heart rate is good and my temp stays normal there is no sign of infection I can sleep one more night in my bed.
Saturday February 12th the drive to the birthing center flys by. The sun is shining, the trees and flowers are blooming I forget we are driving to the most hated of places. Until we get there. Because we waited so long and I am not progressing at all I am forced onto pitocin through an I.v. I am then forced to be strapped to not one but two tight ass monitors on my now contracting belly. Nurses and doctors and interns come and go every ten minutes. They want blood and urine samples. I get two or three new puppet masters. My whoha has never been so active.(thank god) the contractions are getting stronger and stronger but they are not doing anything. My bug is happy right where she is. I start to get really fuzzy at this point. It's all down hill from here anyway.
They now insert a monitor inside me to measure the strength of contractions. I ask if there is another machine they would like to hook me up to why not. I beg to be taken off the monitors. I beg to take a bath. We find out my tub leaks. The whole reason I picked the room. My contractions are now 2 minutes long and 2 minutes apart. I'm not sure of the time after midnight I know that much. There is now a woman in the room next to me and we start contracting and moaning these animalistic deep moans together. Somehow knowing she is there helps. But I am loosing it. I won't let the lights on. I try walking, squating, rolling on the birth ball. Nothing is helping. I hear my dead fathers voice telling me to cowgirl up and hang in there. That helps for a couple of minutes that feels like days. Then I give up. I go silent and limp. My husband is holding my hand crying. Praying I will be ok. Asking why I'm quiet. I don't have it in me I need a rest. I force myself to count how many deep breaths to get through a contraction. Five. I can do five. I focus on that for half an hour. Then its to much. Did I mention I am puking the whole time. I allergic to a lot of meds we find out. Like clock work every ten minutes or so I thrown up for hours. Until there is nothing in me to throw up and I just weakly dry heave while my huge belly contracts.
Where was I, so I break down. At this point only hubby and 1 midwife is in my room and I beg for something anything to get alittle help. I can't do it this way any longer. I am sorry I am a weaker person then I thought please help. They have been waiting for this. Just try. Little longer they tell me. I no longer see them as people who love me, who are there to help. They, like my body, and the doctors, and nurses are against me. I AM ALONE. Finally 30 minutes later somewhere around 4 am Sunday February 13th I get a shot of morphine. It takes the edge off for 20 minutes tops. I beg again and again they bring more and more. At 9 am I am reevaluated still 2cm and my temp is up bugs heart rate is slightly up. I get an ultra sound that is inconclusive. My baby could be 7 lbs or 10. The cord could be hung up or not. I ask for an epidural and to keep trying. They bring in a surgeon to try to talk me into a csection. I beg for more time. I'm not ready for that yet. They give me an epidural and at first I am in bliss. Until I realize 1) I'm allergic to this too 2) I am paralyzed from my chest down. My father was a parapalegic. For half my life I helped him move, bath, live. And now I was too. I freak out. But exhaustion takes over and I doze. When they wake me up at noon every family and friend I have is in the waiting room. Watching me like a broken clock. I sleep some more. Round 1 pm my epidural wears off. This isn't supposed to happen. They give me more. But I can still feel the contractions. 6pm I am checked again and only 4 cm. They have no choice. I am going to surgery. I am to tired to cry much but I am terrified. The one nurse I don't get along with is the only one that will be with my baby. I am terrified. I ask about letting her cord pulse and keeping the placenta. They don't answer. Next thing I know they are straping me down to the operating table and I am alone. I feel them swabing my stomach and tell them so. I should be numb they say. I'm not. They give me more meds. I'm starting to shake uncontrollably. The whole table is moving from my shaking. They put up the cloth across my chest, I am extremely closterphobic. The cloth drapes down and starts to cover my face and I freak out. I start to vomit. Ever tried to vomit while your body is numb and your strapped down flat. I don't recommend it.
Finally they let my hubby in and I start to beg for death. I cannot do this. I can feel me dying. Lover that he is he slaps me across the face and I calm down a tiny bit. Actually not at all I just shut up. Then I hear her screams. Hubby says it takes four people to rip my daughter from my body. She holds her head up and wails her unhappiness to the world. Go with her I say. And hubby does. That is the last thing I remember. I black out. I go into cardiac arrest. I start to bleed out. Three hours later I come to. I am lying in a recovery room with a strange nurse closely monitoring my vitals. I ask about the baby. She is fine her grandmother is holding her. You can see her in an hour. WHAT THE FUCK! I had made hubby promise he would be the only person to hold her until I could. An hour I will kill someone hurry up! They roll me in the room in less then thirty minutes. Hubby clears out the inlaws when he sees my looks of death. Give me MY BABY NOW! They lay her on my bear chest. I look at her and smell her and something inside me comes alive. she is worth every minute. I am whole.

Homemade Hair Mask

I have waist length thick hair so I use
2 avocados
2 egg yolks
2 tblsp extra virgin Olive oil
2 tblsp organic local honey

Blend avocado with fork until smooth. Add rest of ingredients. Apply to hair. Paying special attention to the ends. Wrap in celiphane or shower cap. Wrap hot towel around head. Leave in for 30 minutes. Wash and condition ad usual.

I'm not a doctor a specialist this only works for me. I'm giving this information out as advice only.

Baby Vs Sand

We took Bug to the ocean for the second time. The first she slept. But this time she was awake and aware of everything. It has been close to 100 degrees here and with the teething I admit defeat. So hubby took a day off work and we went to the ocean. Bug loved it!. It was overcast, and cold. She loved wAtching me feed the seagulls my french fries, they got so close to her. And all she wanted to do was eat the sand when we went down to the beach. Baby, teething and sand do not mix. But I got some great pics of her and her daddy that I will never forget.

Summer Fun

I just completed my first fresh blackberry cobbler. After hubby got home from work I was at my wits end with my fussy Bug. So I loaded up the truck with board planks. A step ladder. Big bowl. Long sleeve shirt. And most importantly beer. Went the 6 miles down our dirt road to where the pavement begins and there is a huge ripe patch of blackberries. I was only gone for an hour and a half but I collected enough sweet berries to make two cobblers and a pie. Plus a little extra so Bug could experience this little piece of heaven for the first time. She's not to sure about all the seeds but she loves the juice. Her whole toothless mouth was black and cute. It's amazing how just that little bit of time by myself was enough to make me miss my family and reset my inner clock. I need to make a habit of taking a little time for myself now and again if only for the fact it makes me a happier mommy to my Bug. And the look of love and adoration on her face when I walk back in the door melts my heart.

Country Living

We wake up, have a little cuddle and giggle, then I strap her into a bounce chair while she watches classical baby. It gives me time to make coffee, feed the dogs and cats, and wash a few dishes. Then we settle down on Tue couch for her breakfast and I read the news. We read a book, then she goes down for her nap. I pick up the living room and eat scrambled eggs. She wakes up and we go down to the garden to water and see what's blooming maybe pull a few weeds and let her play with the windchime. We feed and play with the chickens. Spray each other with the hose then come inside out of the hot sun. Bug has some tummy time while I fold clothes and sing her songs. I break out the bubbles and she watches them float around her in awe. Down for another nap while I try to figure something out for dinner. I'm hate cooking. It's been so hot its bbq again. Daddy gets home and I get to take a long shower before I give her a bath and she has some time with daddy . They rock and sing in the glider. He reads her curious George. Then its bedtime for her while hubby and I talk about our day. Maybe play some cards and then we turn in for the night. We don't accomplish much but I have never been happier.

Worst Day Ever

I'm still alive. Really? The only thing worse then food poisoning is food poisoning with a nursing teething titty tyrant.

Beaten by a 5 month old

I'm dying. Slowly. Painfully. The life is being ripped from my chest by a 15 lbs blue eyed wailing ball of tears. I wake up in the morning look at the clock and start to count the hours and minutes until her first nap. When I must lay her in her crib and walk out of the room while she reaches for me and screams. Big crocodile tears rolling down her cheeks. It takes about eight minutes of screaming and the baby monitor goes silent. The occasional sobbing hiccup the only noise. And I look at the clock and count the hours and minutes until I must start the battle all over again. Everyone keeps telling me how proud they are and honestly when I hear this I want to junk punch them in their man business. It's only a natural part of childhood I hear. LIARS! I am the mommy. If this was natural I would feel it. Breastfeeding is natural. Making her smile and laugh is natural. THIS IS NOT! It goes against every mothering instinct I have. And if things couldn't get worse, now that Bug thinks I'm torturing her she is on a potty training strike. We were so close. Down to four diapers a day. I guess the moral of the story is there's only one way to go from the rock bottom. Up. And now I will quit focusing on the negitive and count the minutes until she wakes up, realizes I'm waiting right by her crib, and gives me the biggest toothless smile and my heart mends itself just a little.

Sleep Torture, I mean Training.

Wow, my first blog how exciting! This is the week that my husband and I (mostly him) decided we want our bed back. We spent a lot of hard earned money on a queen temperpedic mattress a couple years ago not thinking of kids or cosleeping and frankly my family has outgrown it. We received a beautiful and expensive crib as a present from fairy godmother when we found out I was expecting our little bug. She is now 5 1/2 months and will not sleep in it. Ever. We call her the velcro baby which is fine with me after 4 days of labor (YES 4 WHOLE DAYS) and an emergency csection I'm just happy she loves me. But my hubby wants like room to rollover in his bed and selfishness like that, so we are trying a modified version of the cry it out. Basically its called that because the whole time she is awake and screaming I'm setting on the couch crying hysterically. 1st day she never stopped crying. after an hour of straight crying for both of us I admit defeat and took her to bed with me. 2nd day after 45 min she went to sleep, less then an hour later and cried until I picked her up. 3rd night cried for 50min but stayed asleep for two hours. Lasting she fell asleep in under 5 min and stayed asleep for five hours people. I cannot believe how hard this has been on me. It makes me feel like the worst mother, and so selfish and mean. But it will get easier right? It has to.