Already?

My little Tootsie will be 6 months old tomorrow.

I can’t believe my life could be complete without her.

Before we knew her gender, I talked myself into being OK with a boy or a girl.  I already had a girl, so a boy would be great.  If we got another girl, well, we already have tons of girlie stuff.

Not really, though. I wanted another girl.  I could not contain my excitement when the ultrasound tech pointed out those 3 little lines. My mind filled with visions of two sisters playing, laughing, sharing…they were blissful pictures.

I had fallen in love with my first born and was all too happy to give her the gift of a sister.

And man, does she love her sister! She hugs and kisses that little Tootsie so much I have to shoo her away.

I am the luckiest Momma ever.

I want to be Superwoman

We are saved!  Help arrived yesterday in the form of my Aunt Patty.

And let me tell you, I was at my wit’s end.  To say I was overwhelmed is a serious understatement.  I mentioned the grumpy husband, remember?  Well, I can handle my girls, I can handle the house.  What I can’t handle is my girls, the house and a so-cranky-he’s-a-little-mean husband.

I was feeling like a bad mom.  My toddler watched more TV this past weekend than I care to detail and the baby spent more time in the excer-saucer than ever before. 

There were arguments and tears.  I felt like I was trying to drag 400lbs uphill and failing miserably.

My husband told me I’d better get more help for the next surgery, because “you clearly cannot handle this on your own.” 

Clearly. 

Enter Aunt Patty.   She cooks, she cleans, she spoils my kids with attention AND acts like there is nothing in the world she would rather do than fold my laundry.  I have never heard her speak an unkind word and she happens to be the world’s best hostess.  She is Superwoman. 

I want to be just like Aunt Patty when I grow up. Seriously.

I'm not proud.

My stress and anxiety hit the roof this week. Let me tell you why. It all circles the fact that my hubby had his hip replaced Monday.

The surgery already had my levels raised. Even the most remote possibility that something could happen to my Hubs puts me on edge for all of the obvious reasons.

Add the fact that I had to sit and wait through the surgery with someone I truly dislike and that the surgery lasted longer than it was suppose to.
My hubby stayed in the hospital longer than initially expected. The girls were with sitters for 3 days and I know they felt the strain, too.

When we were finally home Wednesday evening, we were at maximum capacity. Hubs was crabby, I was crabby, the kids were crabby, here comes the meltdown...

I yelled at my toddler. A lot. Something along the lines of  "Go ahead and do whatever you want, I don't give a $&%@ as long as you stop screaming!"  It was so bad Hubs scolded me for it.

I felt bad immediately. I just lost it. The thing that broke me was Hubs. I'm not saying it was his fault, it was mine, I'm not trying to hide that.
Hubs is a good natured person. He isn't usually crabby, but since his surgery he has been. And I just don't know what to do with it. I'm not blaming him, man, if it were me I would be a bear-but that would be expected from me. The fact that HE is crabby is so out of the ordinary that it's throwing me off.

I can't make my husband happy, I can't make my toddler happy, I can't make my baby happy, but I've got to take care of all of them. HELP!

So, it's been a couple of days, we're all feeling better. I pray my toddler won't remember that I took my frustration out on her. I will let her have as many baths as she wants this weekend in hopes that warm water and scented bubbles will wash away the memory of her crazy mother and let me start new.

We needed it.

I called in sick to work yesterday.  I called it a Mental Health day.  You know the expression “Bored to Tears”?  That is the literal description of me at work.  My level of frustration at work hit a peak this week that made it feel impossible for me to go in on Thursday, so I didn’t.

And let me tell you, it was so worth it. The icing on the cake was that my hubby was off work, too. I got a whole day of my kids and my hubby all to myself. That doesn’t happen very often at my house.

I got up at 6, cleaned and rearranged my kitchen, we had breakfast, I made homemade beef stock from bones and scraps I had in the freezer, I made dough for tortillas, we visited the cousins, Hubs made an amazing dinner, baths, movie, bedtime….whew. I was a great day, not as exciting as my single days, but I wouldn’t trade my life for anything.

This upcoming Monday, my hubby is having his right hip replaced.  No need to re-read.  Yes, I said hip replaced. And no, I am not a much younger, second wife.

My handsome husband is 33.  His hips, though, are closer to 70.  It’s hard to know for sure, but years of football and wrestling may be the culprit.  Although he doesn’t complain to other people, I know he is in constant, terrible pain.

I’ve been in denial about this for a long time.  I thought, somehow, a miracle would occur and his hips would be magically healed.  When we started talking replacement more than 6 months ago, I just never dreamed the actual day would come.

Well, Monday is fast approaching and my blissful state of denial is no more.

After a reassuring appointment with the surgeon, I think that not only will my hubby have a successful replacement, his quality of life will improve such that we will kick ourselves for waiting so long.   

So, here’s to Mental Health days and artificial joints making our lives better!

Head Space

I try to give my husband and kids the attention they deserve. Sometimes the chaos in my head distracts me from my family. Ideas, questions, plans, stresses...I'm going to put it here in an attempt to be clear and present with the ones I love.