Motherhood is...

powering through when I'm in a bad mood, depressed, tired, sad, and/or sick.
BB (before babies), the only way I got better was to rest. I mean, not-do-a-damn-thing-but-stay-in-my-bed kind of rest. This became impossible when I decided to be a mother. Even with my extraordinary village which includes The Man, my parents, school and after school program, a kiddo still needs to be roused, fed, clothed, entertained, and driven somewhere. Essentially, cared for. Would you believe it is easier to rest during the work week than on the weekends? Because during the work week, school and/or childcare is already in place. But on the weekends, it is a tag team effort between two parents (if one is fortunate to have a partner in this game) and there really isn't opportunity to rest unless a parent absolutely needs it.
Why do I mention this? I caught a wicked cold earlier this month which did a number on me. I was able to call in sick one work day but, because I just returned from maternity leave, I only took off that one day. When I don't load up on meds and pass out (my preferred version of rest), it takes longer for me to bounce back.
This morning, I felt the early symptoms of a UTI. As the day wore on, I could tell my UTI was getting worse. I tried cranberry vitamins and lots of fluid, to no avail. I called my healthcare provider in the afternoon to get meds. I knew it was going to go downhill fast. I would be doubled over in pain by nightfall.
Thanks goodness, my provider will push through a prescription without me having to see a doctor.
My husband, kids and I stopped by the pharmacy this evening and picked up my meds. Unfortunately, it takes a few hours to kick in. My discomfort grew and grew. But I powered through.
BB, I would've picked up the meds by myself, went home, and crawled into bed after two glasses of wine to numb the pain and help me sleep. Now, this mama has to remain coherent and sharp. My daughter is still under the weather and the baby still needs to be breastfed. There was no time for futzing.
Motherhood is ugly and beautiful, chaotic and serene, thankless and fulfilling, heartbreaking and abundant with love. It is incredibly ironic. Sometimes, I wonder what the hell I was thinking. Most times, I feel utterly blessed.
Tonight, as I lay next to my husband and am finally resting, I'm so very thankful to be my husband's wife and mama to two lovely kiddos. (The UTI is a mood killer, though.)


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Pregnancy update flashbacks & props to the Nana (& Papa)

I'm not one for selfies. Not because I'm too cool or above them, I'm just a little too critical and self-conscious to be comfortable with them. But I'm so glad I did them with The Bun. So technically, they're called ussies? Whatever. I posted them in my blog but I wanted a page where I could see them all at once so I could show The Bun and, eventually, The Bean:

18 weeks.

19 weeks.

20 weeks.

21 weeks.

22 weeks.

23 weeks.

24 weeks.

25 weeks.

26 weeks.

27 weeks.

28 weeks.

29 weeks.

30 weeks.

31 weeks.

32 weeks.

33 weeks.

34 weeks.

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35 weeks.

36 weeks.

37 weeks.

38 weeks.

Now here is the photo I took on my first day back at work:

I wore this dress at 22 weeks, too:) I have to give a shout out to my mom. I wanted to hem all my wrap dresses so that they were above the knee. Then I could also wear them with flats! I found out that each dress would be $20 to hem. I have a lot of wrap and wrap-like dresses. My mom said she would hem them for me for free, the only catch that it would have to be at her pace. Absolutely! So it's like I have a bunch of new dresses. Man, I love my mom. And this also reminds me that, as shorty, I really need to learn how to sew. Simple alterations can really cost a lot!

But totally not the point of this entry:p I wanted to see all my photos together and give my mom huge props at the end. Yes, she is a hemming goddess. But she's also watching my second little one. She knows he is a bit fussy (he hasn't been diagnosed as having colic but she swears he does) and my mom doesn't want to leave him in the hands of a stranger in case they lose their patience with him. So at 72 years of age, my mom has come out of retirement yet again to work 12 hour days to take care of my baby. That is hard work. And my mom isn't a healthy 72 years. She has battled breast cancer, isn't big on fitness and proclaims to be allergic to healthy foods:p What can I say? I can only suggest her to change things. Just like with anyone else, anything more than suggesting is nagging. And yes, she has told me to stop nagging.

Me and the queen bee at my graduation party ten years ago.

I am absolutely blessed to have my parents nearby. My dad will be 80 years old this year. While my mom is the primary care giver to The Bean, my dad steps in here and there when my mom needs a break. This golden dynamic duo makes it possible for me to go back to work and, as my mom likes to point out because she is very fiscally-minded, saves us money on daycare. I admit, I worry because they're health is spotty, but we take it one day at a time. I love and appreciate them so much.

Me & my parents at my wedding six years ago.