Who comes first?

 Dedicated to my friends and family, some of whom may not always receive the best of me. 


Sometimes, and I know this may be hard to believe, but sometimes, I have a difficult time saying no.  Or more times than not, I offer things that I don't necessarily have because I don't like to see people in need.  Or perhaps I've been through similar experiences myself and I don't like to see people go through the same things alone.  (Also, I am terrible about asking for help, or even accepting help from others.  It's sick.) And most of what I'm talking about is centered around my time.  Have you met my two needy children?  Just thinking about what my house looks like since Ethan has been born makes my blood pressure go up a little.  Whining is not part of my normal routine, so I'll spare you the exact details of life with a special needs child, but if you don't have one, you really can't comprehend it.  I can't even describe how much time is invested in preparing for their day to day life, their future, or even their long term future.  We have to read books about five, ten, and fifteen years down the road all while they're toddlers.  I'm not kidding.  Anyway, enough of that, that isn't what I'm talking about tonight. 

What I'm trying to say is that sometimes I over extend myself greatly and to the detriment of my friends and most importantly, to my family.  Nobody asks me to do some of the silly things that I do that absorb so much of my time.  These time suckers have to go!  I had a terrible moment of weakness today and I just snapped, and honestly, it wasn't at all about the person, but 100% about myself.  Dumb things that you say out of the moment just aren't worth saying.  Who feels better in the end?  No one.  I was a dumb friend and I felt so horrible that I burned dinner (and I never burn food!), and I wanted to shrivel up in a hole and die. 

After a few hours and I still felt awful, it occurred to me that I spent more time feeling awful about what I said to a friend than I've ever felt after I've said something awful to my husband.  Really.  This epiphany really has changed my life.  Sometimes it doesn't take much time to really change your perspective on things.  I probably say five mean-ish things to him a day (and most of this is just sarcastic stuff, but really that's just being mean in a somewhat funny way) and don't spend a minute feeling remorse for it.  Now, don't misunderstand me, it isn't as if I'm deliberately saying mean things to him.  It's how I speak to him on a normal basis that concerns me the most.  And most of that is because I'm overextended!  What's left for my family after all my obligations are completed?  And if I'm honest, half of them are never completed, which makes me crazier and crazier. 

So, dear friends and family, if I must decline an invitation, or a helping hand, just know that it isn't personal and I'm not being hateful. :)
 
My family comes first from here on out.  My family. 

Dirt

Sometimes I really miss living at home. Well, if I am truthful, I always miss living at home. I miss the way the dirt smells. It doesn't smell like salt. I tire of smelling salt water. No, this isn't a metaphor. I really do miss the actual smell of Georgia dirt. Maybe I can get some shipped here. And I miss the simplicity of dirt life.

Passing by

So sometimes I feel like my life is just passing me by. It is as if I have blinked and there went the entire Summer. I know we moved somewhere in there. Wait, I think that was actually Fall when we did that. I am so tired of being in survival mode. I am siting here typing this while I am waiting for Benjamin to fall asleep. Thank God for my iPhone. Sometimes I seriously think that I would fall off the planet without it and there are times when I wonder if anyone besides my family would really notice. I don't really mean that of course. I am just tired of being tired. I miss my old house. Or what I really miss is my routine that I associate with my old house. Bp misses his awesome swingset. I miss watching him play on it. I miss being outside. I feel like we are always on the go, always in the car, or always "just waiting for the baby to wake up, go to sleep, etc" so we can have fun. Thank God Bp loves Ethan because otherwise I think he just might hate him simply because of how much has changed in his life since E has been born. And thank God that he is a happy baby! I know that this will pass, and again, all I am saying is that I am tired of being in survival mode. I miss my life, my husband, and time!

unconditional love

Wouldn't it be awesome if we could love ourselves and other people as innocently as children love?  Children love their toys with their whole heart.  They don't care if their toys are scratched, messy, or torn.  When I say that I have the sweetest child on Earth, I'm not biased at all because it's the truth.  No really, let me give you an example:

We went to Michael's yesterday and I looked pretty horrible.  My hair hadn't been washed in days, but I didn't have the time to wash it before we went.  Ethan had just eaten, so we had to go ahead and run out there and do a few errands so I'd make it back home before it was time for him to eat again.  Or so I thought.  We were getting ready to check out and he just started screaming, which is really unusual for him.  The place was packed and the lines were long.  (No idea why everybody in Hampton Roads decided to go to Michael's on a Tuesday morning.)  So of course everybody starts looking at us and Benjamin starts laughing, which is really unusual for him.  He puts his hands on either side of my cheeks and gives me a kiss and says "Mommy, you're beautiful."  I kid you not, this is what he does. 

He still thinks that I'm beautiful with dirty hair, spit up on my shirt, and pants that are a little too tight in the seat. 

Solidifying my size

So I really do want to lose this weird stomach shelf thing I have going on.  I have been talking about it for weeks now, but really, I'm serious this time.  I am going to have to buy all new pants this winter if I don't lose at least 5 pounds.  And don't give me the whole "you had a baby" excuse.  I left the hospital weighing less than I did the day that I found out I was pregnant.  I don't have a baby excuse.  Well, I do have a surgery excuse as to why my lower stomach looks so weird, but not for the rest of me.  I didn't have surgery EVERYWHERE.  Maybe it was all those oreos this summer that did me in... or maybe it's this sugar cookie and tea that I'm having for breakfast today.  Something has to give though because nothing fits me and I refuse and I mean that I flat out refuse to get a bigger size.  I've never been bigger than the size I am now.  Never ever ever.  Getting older sucks.  But on the upside, I am eating more salad now and Benjamin loves salad.  It's hilarious.  We went to chickfila yesterday and I ordered a salad for me and some fries for him and he only wanted my lettuce.  He about ate all the lettuce in the salad, which left me with cheese and chicken.  So I ate his fries.

Life

I really have lots of interesting things to say, but I don't have time to post them.  Okay, I should say that I don't have the energy to post them.  Today is a particularly sleepy day.  Up at 4am yesterday, up at 5am today.  Please don't everybody be jealous of my schedule. 

Funny breakfast story

The day after I delivered Ethan, I was waiting on the doctors to come and do their rounds.  They usually arrived bright and early at 5am, but for some reason they were late that morning.  The NICU was closed from 6:30-7:30 and then again from 9-12, so if you missed the window of time in the morning, you had to wait until the afternoon to go and visit.  (They would let you drop milk off though if you were pumping.)  So being the day after surgery, my doctor definitely needed to see me, so I was basically stuck in my room.  He didn't get there until after the window of opportunity to see Ethan closed for the morning, so I was feeling pretty bummed out... so I called and ordered breakfast for the morning and apparently I attempted to make the hospital cafeteria broke as they told me that I couldn't order two different meats, and I just busted out crying on the phone and said fine and that I didn't want anything then.  So I just laid there feeling sorry for myself for a hundred reasons- some completely irrational, but I HAD just been through surgery and a baby that I had barely seen, plus a miserable pregnancy, and etc.  I heard the breakfast cart rolling through the ward, which only made me more miserable because I was starving and I knew nothing was coming for me... but then I heard a knock at the door and someone walked in with a tray.  I was a bit confused considering I told the lady that I didn't want anything, but I figured hey, whatever, I'm hungry.  The nice man sat it down on the table and I almost died from laughing because they seriously brought me every single item on the menu.  Hilarious.  I guess crying on the phone to strangers gets you places in the hospital.