The moment you know you're a veteran mom...

Wow. Long time. I'm just not good at this blogging thing, I have to admit. It's not for me. So, I post VERY infrequently. I could never make this my "job." I'd fail miserably. I'd fire me.

Anyway, I was reading another blog today where a mother (just had her first about 4 months ago) was talking about how she has yet to have her first horrifying moment with her son. I thought, "hmmm...nothing really horrifies me anymore."

Then I thought about the moment when I knew I was an "old hat" in many ways.

With my first, anytime he pooped in public, I felt like it was an emergent situation. I had to fix it IMMEDIATELY.

With my second, just a few weeks ago, I knew he was dirty, but we were buying a new car, his diaper bag was in my husband's care parked about a quarter mile away, and I thought "we can wait a minute." Well, it was more than a minute. And it got BAD. So I finally had to excuse myself to go change him. I left Ben to deal with the salesman (this may or may not have been a self preservation move. I hate car salesmen). And off we went.

We were not 20 steps out the door when I felt it. Warm, gooshy, and STINKY. All over my left arm. An explosion had officially happened. I looked at my arm and, sure enough, there was a PILE about an inch and a half deep and 4 inches long on my forearm. And it was not solid.

What does a veteran mom do? Hold the baby with the other hand and flick the offending pile off the arm, then move on. I didn't even miss a step. That was when I knew. I was that mom in the commercial, comfortable enough in my abilities to handle even the grossest situation in public without batting an eye.

Go me.

Stupid Dogs

Monkey, our big boy, is accident prone. He just is. He's 2, he's energetic, he's not *completely* in control of his body 100% of the time. So he gets bumps and bruises, as most 2 year olds do. My answer to this is the Boo Boo Birdie. I found the pattern at Just Another Hang Up, and make them for Monkey. He loves them. They look like this:

Unfortunately so do the dogs. They smell the rice and then go all tazmanian devil and destroy them. I have made no fewer than 6 of these, and all of them have been destroyed (Granted, one was because Finn threw one in a toilet full of ick, and you know I wasn't about to clean it, but still).

*Sigh* Looks like I'll be at the sewing machine again tonight, making another one (or three). Maybe one will survive.

On a positive note, I successfully made swim trunks for the baby. And I have enough fabric left over for trunks for Finn, and matching hats for both. Is that too much? :)

Laundry Room Redo.

I hate my laundry room in this house. While it has enough space for everything, there are a few problems.

1-I house my crafting stuff in there. And it's a LOT of stuff. It takes up 3/4 of my above-machine shelf space and not in an attractive way. I'm thinking that most of that (with the exception of my sewing machine and sewing bag) are about to be relocated.

2-The above-mentioned shelf is way too high, but since we're in on-post housing that's just something I have to deal with. I would love it to be about a foot lower, but that's life.

3-The laundry room is also home to a pantry and multi-tasks as a mudroom and dog kennel. I have to find a way to make this work better (aka function as all 3 without driving me insane).

So I have some ideas for the space. And I'm going to make it happen, with or without help. Because I can't do it anymore. Hopefully I find a way to make the space function better, look good, and not DRIVE ME CRAZY!!!

My Eldest is a Rock Star

I was so worried bringing Ian home that Finn would react poorly. Either he would want nothing to do with his new baby brother or he would act out in anger...worst of all against the precious new baby that I was bringing into our home.

I also felt guilty. Guilty that I was not going to be able to spend as much time with my first born, that he would feel "replaced," and that I was upsetting his little life in a major way, and one he did not ask for or even think about.

Boy did he prove me wrong. He is a ROCK STAR.

Not only is he a wonderful big brother, constantly trying to "fix it" when Ian cries (paci, blanket, etc), but he has grown up a lot. He has always been a great independent player (something I feel I take advantage of way too much), but since Ian needs my attention a lot more than Finn does, at least at the moment, I notice it a lot more. As I type this, I'm lying on the couch with Ian asleep on my chest, and Finn is coloring quite contently at the coffee table next to me.

I am constantly talking to him about what he is doing...what color he is using, reminding him to put the cap back on the *washable* marker, etc. And he is still not talking as much as I would like. BUT...my sister was right. he is talking more now that the baby is here.

And he has adjusted SO well that I'm not feeling nearly as stressed as a new mom of 2 as I thought I would.

I am thankful for my smart, funny, handsome, helpful first born. Because right now, he is my hero. Thank you, son, for being so perfect.

Ian Patrick (Peanut) Is Here!

It's been a busy few weeks here. I had my last week of work, welcomed my mother in law here to help with Monkey, and, well...

WE HAD A BABY!!!

I was due February 12. On Feb 11 I went in to see my Dr. because I had a headache that I couldn't shake. It had been 24 hours and nothing was working...not good. Sign of pre-eclampsia not good. So he checked me and I was at a 5...which is where I had been for about a week. No progress. We set an induction date of  February 13, purely because between my moderately high blood pressure, headache, and  swelling in my ankles I WAS DONE. Plus my Dr was leaving on February 14 for a week-long cruise, and he wanted to deliver the new baby.

So, at 6am on February 13, 2013, in we went. By the time I was admitted, checked out, and hooked up to everything, it was 8am. And we started pitocin. With Finn, pitocin did nothing. We're talking I slept all day without feeling a thing. Not so much this time. Since I was already at a 5, we decided to place my epidural and put it at a very low level, just so that should things progress quickly we could turn it up and have it be effective and offer relief. Since I delivered at a different hospital this time, it was a different experience. Instead of hunching over a pillow and hoping that I remained still, the nurses brought in what looked like a massage chair, complete with face hole. It was awesome and made things so much easier.

Then, we waited. And waited. I was feeling the pressure of contractions, but no real pain. By 2:30 pm I asked for the epi to be turned up...I was uncomfortable. Not really in severe severe pain, since I already had some pain meds coursing through me, but I wanted a bit more. Then the Dr came in to check me...a 6. And as he was checking me...my water broke. From there, things moved quickly. Within an hour I was fully dilated and "ready," but the nurse had me sit up in the bed (the foot of the bed moved down, so it was like sitting in a chair). That lasted for about 30 minutes or so. Then in came Dr again and away we went!

In looking at my discharge papers, the breakdown was: 8 hours of stage 1 labor (aka waiting for me to dilate and for my body to do it's job). 1 hour of stage 2 labor (aka active contractions that I felt) and 6 MINUTES of stage 3 labor...aka pushing. That's right. I got this kid out in 6 minutes. I remember at one point the Dr saying "OK, stop pushing for a second." All I said was "I'm not pushing."  Ian was coming whether we helped him or not!

And he bit the Dr. We're talking, Dr is trying to get all the gunk out of his mouth and my son clamped down and wouldn't let go. Great. I have a biter on my hands.

We are so happy that it was an easy, uneventful pregnancy, labor, and delivery. After everything I went through with Finn, I was so nervous about this one, thinking that I would have do do all of the high risk appointments, multiple daily medications, etc. again. Not so. This pregnancy and delivery made me think "I could do this again." I'm the first to admit that I DO NOT LIKE being pregnant. I'm pretty close to hating being pregnant. But that special little baby in your arms at the end of it...that makes it more worth it that I can even describe.

We're all doing well. Big Brother LOVES his new baby. Finn is constantly looking at him, kissing him, and trying to feed him or warm him up with a blanket. We're going to have to curb his need to try and hold the baby though. Whenever Ian cries, Finn's first instinct is to pick him up and make him feel better. While I love that...the 2 year old picking up the newborn is not the best course of action. Our family is complete...we think. Of course, give us a couple of years. We could change our minds.

Why I Have a Love/Hate Relationship With Organizing Blogs.

I love organizing blogs. I love the theory behind organizing as well as the great feeling I get when something has been successfully organized and LOOKS good.

I hate that no matter how hard I try, my drawers/closets NEVER look like this:

This is from the blog iHeartOrganizing. I'm addicted

Rather, I attempt that lovely organization and ten real life hits. It really ends up looking like a classic Pinterest fail. The cords won't stay wrapped, and I have WAY more small odds and ends than any of the organizing pros seem to have. Plus...well, a husband and a 2-year-old. They tend to quickly undo any organizing I try to do. 

My biggest organizing enemy? The sheer amount of crap we have. It's ridiculous. Both Ben and I have trouble getting rid of things "just in case" we need them later. We are I am constantly trying to get rid of things or find homes for things, and it's an epic fail.

Maybe when baby #2 gets a bit older and I can sell all of the baby crap we have, I'll have a fighting chance. Until then, it's an uphill battle that I am DEFINITELY losing.

Stick a Fork in Me, I'm DONE!

OK baby boy #2, you are welcome to make your entrance any day. Although I'm not willing to try anything to make him come early, I would not be disappointed if he decided to come now. Or yesterday.

It's no secret to those who know me that I don't enjoy pregnancy. I don't feel like I'm glowing, and I'm not one of those women who would be pregnant ALL THE TIME if I could. I'll just take the baby, thank you. I love the baby part. The pregnancy part...while it's fascinating and all, it's just not my cup of tea.

Don't get me wrong, I'm very thankful to be able to have a successful pregnancy. After being told that I may never be able to have biological children, being at the tail end of my second pregnancy is truly amazing to me.  I love that the Dr was wrong, and soon I will have not one but TWO healthy baby boys to call my own. If you have been reading for a while, you know that we were in the process of filling out adoption paperwork when we found out that Finn was on his way.

But this second time around has been harder on me than the first time was. I'm more tired, I'm swollen, I'm achy...and I'm chasing an almost-2-year old around. Throw in that I've finally started working full time, and I just don't have anything left. Thankfully Finn is a GREAT independent player, and lets me rest with my feet up a lot to reduce this AWFUL, PAINFUL swelling that I've encountered in the third trimester. Seriously, my feet look like the Elephant Man. It's gross.

So, #2...we're waiting. Ready, willing, and waiting to get this show on the road and welcome you home. Even if big brother still has no idea that you're on your way. We're ready.

Getting Good with Myself

There are a lot of things I wish I was better at. Or that I felt/thought differently about. Like photography. I really wish I could take photos like my friend Andrea. You can see some of her work at her Facebook Page, Maddie B Photography. Seriously amazing. And she's going to help me get better, but I will never get to that level.

I get lucky every once in a while, usually with shots of Finn. But once in a while isn't what I'm going for.

I wish I had more compassion. I wish I didn't judge others. I wish I had more patience. But the reality is I have what I have, I am what I am. I need to deal with that. I need to be OK with that. Because the second I am, I will be more at peace and probably be more successful at improving myself in the areas I want to improve.

The good news lately is I'm getting there. Just going back to work full time has really helped. I find myself to be more attentive and involved at home, both with the other members of my family and when it comes to housework, etc. That's great! I just was not built to be a stay at home mom. It makes me become slovenly and a much bigger procrastinator than I would like.

Maternity leave will be interesting, just because I've gotten used to being out of the house all day in a few short weeks. I'll have to adjust. And then adjust again when I go back. The good news is that Monkey will continue to go to daycare part time while I'm home with our new arrival...good for him, good for me, good for baby brother.

Here Comes Another New Year!

Well, our vacation to see family over the holidays was a whirlwind, but totally worth it! Monkey got to meet his other Great-Grandfather for the first time, which was wonderful! We drove up to Carson City, NV to see "Mimi" (aka Ben's mom), Ben's Great-Aunt and Grandfather. Spent 2 nights and then had to be on the road. But, Monkey got to play in snow for the first time!

 Little guy wouldn't keep his hat on!

And got to go sledding, which was hilarious.

Then off to Portland! We went to see Santa, which Finn (Monkey) still isn't too sure about. He REALLY didn't like the Easter Bunny last year, and this year Santa got the same reaction as he did the first time around...confusion. I don't have pictures uploaded of the Santa visit yet, but trust me, it wasn't super happy smiles. 

The thing about Portland that Ben and I *conveniently* forget is that it rains. A LOT. Especially in December. So a lot of our plans went bust. We really need to make a trip in the summer, when we have a better chance of staying dry. We got COMPLETELY soaked at Zoo Lights in the Oregon Zoo, and no one was very happy. 

Monkey cried the entire time we were on the train. You try to do something nice, and that's the reaction :)

After a few days there, up to Washington to see my family...Nana, Papa, and Honey (my grandmother) were all excited to see us. Finn wasn't too upset either. He's spent more time there than at Ben's parents' house, so it's a little more comfortable for him. AND he slept in Auntie Rawr's (my sister) queen sized bed...which had me nervous but he did great!

This was the first year he's kind of gotten the idea of unwrapping presents, so it was more fun than last year. The big hits were his train, his Rody, and my dad's new tripod.

This thing is great...a truly classic "Santa toy"

He still can't really bounce on Rody without falling over, but he's getting close!

And he had no idea what to make of the tripod

All in all, it was a successful trip, even if my big pregnant butt, back and hips were KILLING me every time we got out of the car! Finn did great on our 8 and 10 hour days (and that was just the driving part), so what more can you ask for? Now to get baby preparations seriously under way so that when boy #2 decides to make his appearance, we'll be ready!

I am horrible at Elf on the Shelf

The elf is supposed to move every night. The fun for most of us is thinking of fun little things for him to be doing, and in theory it's all fun and easy, and a way for us to get the whimsy back into our houses. Except for in those houses where we SUCK at Elf on the Shelf.

This is funny and creative. This is not our house.

Our elf's name is Rosco.  He has been in the Christmas tree for 3 days now, mainly because I forget to move him and Monkey doesn't really understand to look for him yet. I figure I'm OK...until next year.

I really wish I could get good at this. I want to make the holidays fun for my kids (and for the adults, it's never a bad thing to bring some of the magic back!). So why am I having such a hard time with this?

I think it would help if Ben were more into it, but he doesn't seem to be. OK, fine. Maybe if I could get my head in the game he would see the fun in it. But I'm in a funk...and I'm horrible at Elf on the Shelf. Maybe next year, when Monkey understands the concept more, I'll get better? One can only hope.

It's Thanksgiving Already?

I can't believe that Thanksgiving is in a week. We have so much to be thankful for this year, and so much to look forward to.

I am thankful for my husband and son. They may drive me crazy sometimes, and there are times I may not like them so much (even though I love them to death) and that's OK. They are still my family, they still bring joy to my days, and I would not be who I am without them.

I am thankful for our life. I mean, there are so many people out there who don't have nearly as much as we do...a home, food, steady income, ability to afford new clothes and the feeling of safety and security. We take it for granted way too much that we have all of these things, and that we come by them honestly.

Believe it or not, I am thankful for my 2 dogs. They taught me how to care for another living being long before Monkey ever showed up. Although they may not get the level of attention they used to, they are still my first babies, and without them our household would not feel complete.

I am thankful that this pregnancy (although a bit of a surprise) happened easily and has thus far gone smoothly. After everything we went through to have Monkey, how horrible I felt most of the time, all the Doctor's appointments, needles, and monitoring, it is truly amazing that this one seems like any other normal pregnancy. I'm so happy I get to experience that side of it.

On the flip side, I'm thankful that I had a hard, high-risk pregnancy with Monkey. It made me so much more empathetic to women and families who struggle with infertility and difficult pregnancies. That only makes me a better person.

I am thankful that we are going to be able to visit family for a longer period of time over the holidays. Although I really wanted to be working full time, that would not have allowed me to take 3 weeks for visiting, and we really need that. Especially since Ben has not been back to our parents' houses since February.

Last but not least, I'm thankful that I do NOT have to cook a whole Thanksgiving Dinner next Thursday!Last year I cooked the full deal for the 3 of us, and it was a LOT of work for VERY little getting eaten. I think we threw most of the leftovers away. So, this year, we are doing Boeuf Bourguignon, Homemade Artisan Bread, and some form of dessert. Nothing big (OK, it's still a lot of work, but hey, it's Thanksgiving), something everyone will eat (mostly, Monkey's going through a picky phase) and we are comfortable at home without feeling the need to entertain.

Now...off to try to convince Monkey to eat something other than bread and cheese.

So glad tomorrow is election day.

Because then it will be over and Television, radio, internet, facebook, ETC will stop being FLOODED with political blah blah. It's not that I don't care about the election and the state of the country. I do. But there comes a point where enough is enough. It's like the little girl who cried because of Bronco Bama and Mitt Romney...

She's about 5 and even she's heard enough (my thinking is most 5 year olds don't really pay enough attention to get upset about things like politics).

Regardless of which side of the fence you are on, or if you're on the fence...I just want life to go back to normal, where a politician does something dumb or something great, we hear about it, laugh about it, and move on. I am over being completely bombarded with it. Well...until 2016 at least.

Wow, it's been a month!

I don't update this like a good little blogger...but then again, I never pretended to be a good little blogger, did I? In the past month, I have finished trainings for my new job, gotten passed over for full time at said job (not super happy about that, but that's how the dice fell), and .............drumroll please.....................we found out that

In case your screen is weird, as my dad's is, the cheesecake is blue. We're having another boy. The big dilemma now is a name. We fell in love with Monkey's name after MONTHS of searching online and in books. Now I'm just having difficulty finding another name that is as unique (but not weird) and that I love as much. Ugh. At least we have a little over 4 months (give or take) to think about it.

I'm also working on Halloween Costumes. Mine is easy...a little bit of bleaching/dying clothes, sew a quick sash, and I'm done. Monkey's is more involved, but if I would just get my butt to work I could have it done tonight. It's Ben's that has me nervous. It's involved, it's a lot of fabric, and, well...kind of ugly. Our whole family is themed, so they all go together and will make sense when they are put that way, but for now it just looks like a big mess in my dining/craft room. Yay for me.

So much happening!

Well, folks, we have a climber. Monkey is on the verge of being able to climb out of his crib. It's a little scary, because I know he's not ready for a toddler bed quite yet, but I don't want him to hurt himself either!

In the past few weeks, I have found him on top of the dining room table, on the coffee table, trying to climb out of his crib, and on the back of the couch. Oh, and did I mention that through all of that, he has also developed a taste for coloring on the walls? Luckily the crayons are washable and wipe right off. Although we've received lots of suggestions, such as giving him chalk or designating a "space" on the wall where it's OK to color, ultimately we don't want him doing it. For a 19 month old I think that designating times/places where it's OK and others where it is not is just confusing. So, he's not allowed to do it, and when he does there are consequences, such as...

...time outs. We were hoping to wait until he was a bit more verbal, but he's just not taking us seriously when we tell him no, so something had to be done. He's still getting the hang of staying where we put him, so a 1-minute time out usually takes about 20-30 minutes to complete, and by the end we have a tearful child who won't so much as look at us. Oh well. He also has to clean the wall where he colored, if that was the offense.

Now for the biggest news...

#2 is on the way! Due 10 days after Monkey was born, so there is a chance they could share a birthday. I didn't really love the thought of having kids with the same birth month, but that's what happened. We're thrilled, and we *think* we're ready. Of course, that means nothing at all...

The Sound of Quiet

I never fully appreciated the sound of quiet until I became a mother. Now if it's not the baby, it's the dogs, the laundry, the dishwasher, the phone, or my husband disturbing the piece.

It's funny, quiet used to drive me CRAZY. I had to have some form of noise...TV, Music, anything. Now if I can get a few minutes of NO SOUND I am in heaven! I don't know if it's that Monkey is so active, or me getting older, or some random shift in my hearing ability since having him, but I hear EVERYTHING! Right now I can hear the dogs breathing, the air conditioner going, electronics humming, and Ben's computer upstairs. This is as quiet as it gets.

And, of course, the more I focus on it, the louder it seems to get (at least to my mommy-vulcan hearing that Ben says I now have). The other day Ben took Monkey for a bike ride in his new bike trailer, and I got 20 whole minutes of...nothing. It was delightful. Then the dog started having a sneezing fit, and life resumed it's normal, noisy pace.

The New Furniture Is Here!

So, for those of you who know me, you know that I have been bugging Ben for YEARS to get new furniture. I loved my old red couch when we bought it, but over the years it's started to look a little sad. Oh, and each time we move I feel more and more like it's taking over the living room...and not in a good way.

See? It's just a bit big. AND it blocked about 1/3 of one of the entrances to the living room...meaning you had to kind of sidle by it to get in from that entrance, and then walk around it to sit down. 

How was it looking sad? After dealing with Ben, 2 dogs, and Monkey, there was some definite wear (mostly in the corner in the back, where I usually sat and therefore where everyone came to me) and water marks from cleaning that I couldn't get out. On top of that, the wood detail on the bottom was chipped in more than one place, and I had re-stuffed the cushions with polyfill so many times I may as well have bought a new one already. Oh, and you couldn't take the bottom cushions off...nightmare for cleaning purposes. That couch ate several things that were never seen again.

So, after at least 2 years of convincing him that I needed a new seating set, he gave in. We sold the old one the DAY I put it up for sale, and we got THIS:

I LOVE this. It's not microfiber, but a soft, durable upholstery. It's in a great neutral grey color, so I can sew new pillow shams or make a colorful blanket to change the whole tone of the room without buying new furniture. And it's super comfy...like, I want to sleep on it all. the. time. YAY!!

Now I just have to find at least 1 end table (Ben is currently using a small folding table for his end table) and maybe a new coffee table. I'm thrifting for those, because I want them to be larger, have storage, and need some TLC so that I can revamp them and make them pretty again. I'm thinking beadboard on the sides and modern hardware on any drawers/cupboards. Then strip them down, prime and paint/stain them (probably not black, probably a rich mahogany color) and varnish them to make sure it's all sealed in properly. EXCITED!

Why I Both Love and Hate Netflix

A few weeks ago Monkey was sick. As in: ear infection, teething (molars no less, which we *still* haven't seen), and a stomach virus. I was up to my elbows in vomit, diarrhea, and tears (both his and mine). Because he had all 3 at the same time, we didn't sleep much.
I don't do well on little sleep. He has spoiled me immensely since he was 3 months old by sleeping a full 12 hours at night, pretty much every night. Once in a blue moon he wakes up for an hour in the middle of the night, but I can count on both hands how many times that has happened in the past 13 months. Not bad.
However, sickness is a different animal all together. Sickness throws a wrench in your well-oiled machine, and decides that it needs to throw you a curve ball in the sleep department. It's like the girl in your group who likes nothing better than to cause problems just to have something entertaining to watch. You know what is apparently really entertaining? Taking a mama who has gotten a full night's sleep each night for over a year and saying "Hey, how about 1 hour of sleep for the next 48 hours. Sound fun? Let's do it!"

That's what sickness did to me. I went to sleep at 10, Monkey woke up at 11...screaming. Ben can't get up with him because he has, you know, a job or something and needs to sleep. Want to know when Monkey went back down? 5am. That means that I didn't go back to sleep at all...it was practically time for the day to start.
Back to Netflix. That night, I watched the entire 1st season of Dowton Abbey on Netflix Streaming. It was awesome. I LOVED it. So I (obviously) immediately put the second season on my Netflix Queue. You know what happened? the words Very Long Wait popped up next to it. NNNNNOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
That was a few weeks ago. I have selectively been putting other movies at the top of the queue in the hopes that after I send that one back the next season will be ready. Now those evil words are gone, and I should be receiving the 1st DVD of the 2nd season tomorrow.

HOWEVER...my Netflix account claims that I still have the last movie they sent me. The one I sent back on Saturday. The one I held for a WEEK and never watched, so I Notflixed it....AKA I sent it back without even popping it in the DVD player.

Man oh man, I need a job. I'm way too invested in my Netflix...

Let's hear it for accurate record-keeping

So, as you may know, I have issues with fertility. Not the issues you hear about frequently (not that that makes them any easier to deal with), but things that you (and often times the Drs I see) have never heard of/dealt with/care to learn about. Because they are different. And difficult. And there is not a lot of research done on them, which means they can be hard to treat.

So when Ben and I decided that we *may* be ready to start thinking about #2, it means a lot of pushing to get what I want. Luckily, we have all of my records from my old fertility specialist, so we have a jumping off point.

Next step...the Dr. To get a referral. To another Dr. To see (hopefully) once and convince to put me on my old protocall. That's all I want. I want no tests, no unnecessary treatments, no weekly visits. I want a prescription. For what I know already works. OK...done. Referral was submitted, approved, ready to go. Then I call to make my appointment.

Want to know something fun? The Dr that they referred me to (besides being over 2 hours away, thankfully I can get reimbursed for gas) has RETIRED. How did they not figure this out sooner? Because apparently it happened a while ago. That's kind of a big thing to miss.

Now I have to wait for my primary care Dr. to give me a phone consult for another referral.

Hopefully they got the memo on that specialist's retirement. But I think probably not. I think they will just keep referring me until I either shut up or give up. Oh how little they know me!

The Search For Meaning

I was thinking today about how hard it is to make friends now that I am a little bit older. It used to be you ran into someone on the playground/in the hall/in the dorm/in class, you would talk for a bit, and then you were friends. Not anymore. Now it's an evaluation as to how much effort I want to put in, how much I want a new friend, and, generally, whether or not it will be worth it.

That sounds bad. I know. But ultimately, I have a son, a husband, 2 dogs, and a house to take care of. Plus looking for work, trying to maintain friendships with people who are spread around the world, and finding time for myself. There are barriers to pass, just as Leonard had to pass 3 barriers to become Sheldon's roommate.

So, we're picky. I like to cultivate my friendships. However, I don't want the scary clingy friend who calls/messages/texts constantly and can't get a hint that they are being a crazy person don't understand boundaries. Sometimes (OK, most of the time) it's just easier to say "screw it."

But, ultimately, I want some new friends. Mommy friends. Mommy friends that live in the same town, who's children are close in age to mine and who I have things in common with. That may be too much to ask. but I keep looking. In the meantime, while re-reading one of my favorite blogs, I came across. this post that helped me know I'm not completely crazy.

Looks like this time is starting with even MORE frustration!

Because we are a military family, we are at the mercy of our providers to give us referrals to the "closest" specialists when those facilities are not available through the on-post military providers. In my case, seeing a true OBGYN is one of those specialists. I was fine with this, and told that I could see someone within an hour's drive of where we live. OK, fine. It's a little difficult with Monkey to make long drives for one day, but an hour each way I can do.

Lo and behold, today I get my authorization paperwork. The Dr. they are referring me to is 2 1/2 HOURS away from us. That mean either a) a day of screaming Monkey in the car or b) paying for a full day of childcare so that I can go to 1 appointment...at $4 an hour. Now Ben and I have to have a discussion as to whether we want to just accept what we have been given, or try to get someone closer. There are drawbacks either way. If we roll with what we have been given, we have to pay a lot more for Monkey's daycare while I'm gone and I have to rush there and back, not to mention time the appointment just right so that I can drop him off and pick him up on time.

If we try to get someone different, it could take quite a while. We could not get someone different at all...we could still end up with the person we have been given.

UGH...I wish the providers here would just give me the protocall they have on file from my reproductive specialist at our last duty station and not refer me out. Life would be a lot easier!