back to work...oh how i miss my little guy...

his giggles when i dance, his grunts while sleeping, his humming while eating....the big eyes watching my every move, conveying so much more than he has words to say..nuzzlng my face in his neck crevices...that gaze that says...

I love you like no other mama.

now im blessed that i have a great job to return to, a supportive boss who's first question on my first day back was..." how are you doing? are you ok?

knowing as a mom herself that day one away is not the best time ever. I admit I cried all the way to my exit to work...not out of worry, but hoping that i had created enough memories in his bank that would sustain him so my place in his heart was solidified...

the daycare find was blessing number #2...right up the street, wonderful owner who called me a few hours later to tell me he was fine, ..and that if i wanted she would call me daily...

I said thanks...

so that afternoon when he dad dropped him off and i saw his eyes tell me i love you, and his face break into that familiar grin...all was right in my world.

and that's a very very good thing.

drink coffee or sleep? oh yeah and now my cat hates me..

my cat is out of food...I've gone to the store three times in the last fifteen hours and all three times the cat food, ( the starred item on my list) is the ONE thing that I come home without..so the cat is sniffing our bar stools, eating the gladiolas and giving me the mean cat stare. But the baby is sleeping, the teen is sleeping, my boyfriend is sleeping...which means...

i have silence..

Cat will have to wait.

I'm recovering from a nice little bout of mastitis, also known as a breast infection, which gave me my first fever in two years, and reaffirms my recurring thought that while breastfeeding is tremendous for my son, it is hell on wheels for me. I consider it my ultimate gift.

I dance with my son, whisper a million i love yous in his ears that i reason will tide him over while I'm at work until i can rush home and see his eyes focus in on my face and that perfect gummy grin....reserved for me...

seems like a minute ago it was a girl instead of a boy i was staring down at, and it was espresso brown instead of gray eyes studying my face for validation and eternal love....

i see feet kicking in the bassinet, and I'm almost out of flowers...

still getting the swing of this...multiple kid thing..

not Kate Gosselin multiple, one plus one type multiple. I am finding there is a big difference between one kid and two kids......HUGE difference between one 13 year old and a newborn AND a 13 year old. My last month of maternity leave I am determined to get this mother thing down.. I WILL not show up to doctor's appointments three days late, I will not forget the items for my daughter's science project, I will remember the grocery list when i go shopping, and I will not get sidetracked by how flipping cute my son is...( i lose precious hours lost in his smiles..)

Instead, I finish my to do list with time to spare, dishes clean and put away, laundry baskets with nothing but lint..and a baby soundly sleeping in his crib... this is what I aspire to..

oh yeah, and I want to work out and be fit again and fit back into my jeans..I actually started the P90 X series, designed to over the course of 90 days...assist me in getting my sexy back, and on day four i have one recurring thought...

i like eggo waffles alot better than edamame.

In no particular order i have found new appreciation for -

the word anti aging

nightlights that keep me from tripping in my bedroom in the middle of the night..

le mystere nursing bras...allowing me to have a little lace in my human cow life

clothing that hides barf ..self explanatory

tv stations with a three to five am lineup....

baby wipes...suddenly handy to have all the time

flip flops =my bff

extra super thick mosturizing lotion...yep scales belong on snakes..

dimmer switches...

as i type my milk alert is happening...baby is hungry..blogging must wait...

while i go pull the milk truck up for my baby:) he's the one on the right in the brown...

till next time..

baby is here..fog is lifting..sort of..

having babies is not for the faint of heart, or the sane. On September 1st at 5:06 am my son entered this world fourteen days early and I joined the ranks of the walking comatose. Thankfully the mind allows you to forget exactly how the combination of childbirth, lack of sleep, breastfeeding, and the eupohoria of it all is enough at any given moment to make you collaspe where you stand. Sleep leaves your house as quickly as you depart your own bed for the couch. I dream of getting my sexy back but staring at my still plump figure in the mirror...understand that it will take more than hard wishing.
Baby sleeps and like most moms I stare caught in the rapture of my miracle, forgetting that precious sleep minutes are ticking away never to be seen again..my once pristine house now is worthy of a clean house makeover but all i can do is..
drink another soda and lean back further on my couch aka bed.
Did i mention I had a c section?
Yeah, about that. The shaking on the table, hearing my doc say " now stay really really still for the next ten seconds.." while he has my stomach open.. a little un nerving. Who knew this pain would have me longing wistfully for a vaginal birth?
Oh and my baby is wicked cute.
Although my skin is drier than a cactus, i keep drinking soda, because I can, and right now, fitness and health isn't my top priority. I eat when i can, what i can, and currently it's better than prior to birth, but not by much. As the haze disappates my desire to be fit and trim returns...

hurry up and wait syndrome, also known as..my baby's quite comfortable..

where he is.

In the last two weeks, I have called the doctor three times after hours and visited the hospital once in the middle of the night.

Yesterday I came close to taking on my OB doctor's office lead appointment maker, or whatever the hell her title is, who was too curious and not enough helpful.

It was hot, I wanted to see the doc and she seemed oblivious to the fact that 37 weeks pregnant, comes with a free pass to irrational land. Logic left during the second trimester.

Of course my due date hangs on my calendar more enticing than a Neiman Marcus yearly half off sale, but each day that brings that elusive day closer,

comes less sleep, more weight, and the oh so super fun..

pregnant waddle.

I'M NOT A DUCK! I DON"T WANT TO WADDLE!

I want to sleep on my stomach, have my hair do what I instruct it to, wear just one pair of shoes my feet don't slide into..and not have to be pushed in order to get up from my couch.

yet I know that I gave up these inalienable rights back on January 5th when that little bitty white stick revealed two blue lines.

STILL!!!

while i go slightly insane, my baby continues to be remain above the fray, choosing instead to sleep his way to his birthday, when not having drum sessions and football practices in my belly.

yeah i love it.

But I've cleaned the corners, folded, creased, washed, waxed, worried, screamed, cried my way to the finish line...

almost.

leg cramps and buckets of tears, and baby brothers

It was a wonderful day yesterday, all the way until, the switch turned and out went happy and in began waterfall number one of the week..reason not important or sensical. That lasted for about two hours until my explanation of why I was crying caused even me to laugh..

welcome to the home stretch. where logic has left the building.

I think back to every woman I know mother to more than one child and I want to personally call her and tell her...

she's insane or my hero.

back to the early am leg cramps...such fun...if going to the bathroom three or four times a night isn't enough, or the 2 am kickboxing class my son teaches...after all,

sleep is for sissies..and I am a mom..

and will there be a day when sleep finally returns..when my son is a toddler.. ?

THAT'S A QUESTION!!!!!

he has chubby cheeks like his daddy and my chin. and he grins alot ...thanks ultrasound..

his big sister is ready and dying with anticipation and i remember a similar feeling when my baby brother popped into the world, 11 years after me.

and I will walk, clean, eat, bathe, laugh, talk to my friends AND

sleep.

just maybe not all in the same year.

btw..that's my little brother on my lap..he's 6'4 now.

sunday morning freakout..

with my daughter, breastfeeding was anything but effortless. Frantic calls to my mom, the La Leche league and tearful pleas to my daughter ..made birth seem like cake in comparison. Now with less than eight weeks to go, I wake up on Sundays, with a fresh list of items to fret over., not made easier or shorter by tips, ideas and must haves from anyone and everyone that has ever birthed a child.

I remind myself that the most important components come included in the baby pack...baby..and love...and that most of the rest is extra stuff sent from a far a way planet to worry me...speaking of worry,

my belly is so big now I have two regions to my body...ab(above belly) and bb( below belly).
the bb region is now gone from my eyesight until further notice..i.e after my baby boy pops out.

my tattoos continue to stretch and stretch....but still thanks to the genetic God..still no stretch marks.

I'm back to reading to my baby, talking to myself ALOT more and constantly wrapping my head around being a mom of TWO kids.

why is it that i notice the most minute of dust particles but can step over an entire laundry room of laundry?

I require a good push to effectively get up from a seated position on my couch. And I haven't cried in the last 48 hours...

good way to start the week.

little gifts my baby boy leaves for his mom..

three pimples, wider feet and inablity to sleep longer than five hour stretches....groovy. I remain a wee wee bit on the grumpy/weepy/estatically happy side. Less than eight weeks to go, and each day hammers in the facts..

there is a baby in my belly and I am the mama.

Wowsers.

I read all the pregnancy books, listen with great sarcastic interest the " advice" from celebrity moms....I plan detailed projects..( this week's is to plant flowers in my yard) usually to be derailed by ..my lack of energy..kinda like ordering more than you can eat..although that is an awful analogy right now...

baby boy...

he hates ultrasounds..refuses with great intensity to reveal his entire unobstructed face..rests his head on his hand as if to say.." enough already momma I am busy"..what he does love is music like his daddy and some call them hiccups, I like to think he is giggling.:)

I dream in

belly 3 d...waking up checking to make sure it ( the belly) is still there..then a light nudge or push..so my boy will push back..just to know he is there and fine..

hot

isn't the term I use when I first look in the mirror in the morning..puffy, pregnant, shocked...much better choices...

and so it is..on a Saturday in preggoville.

add sweat to that list..

of lovely things that good ol pregnancy brings.....now sweat takes cover under my mountains..ala my boobs, my belly, my forehead,.. and all this within seconds after sleep hits..what gives?
did i mention panting like man's best friend while completing simple tasks such as grocery shopping? I've accepted that I'm not getting my sexy back until the leaves change...but do I have to like perspire like a mechanic from Phoenix in the summer?
ok enough griping..
let's see i love..
eggo waffles, ranch dressing, cheese pizza with way too much garlic, potatoes in any form, blueberry everything, spinach, my couch, reading and rereading every book on being pregnant, staring at our ultrasounds..guessing whether that was a foot or a hand, no periods, target, pears, other pregger women, my OB aka my new BFF.
my lack of stretch marks are made up with the cellulite that is accumulating on my butt..

and what's a little cellulite anyway? and Eggo if you're reading..i think i deserve a lifetime supply for all this good press..

it's official.. I waddle

not like a duck, more like an unbalanced penguin...my shoe collection now consists of three pairs of flats, my 3 and 4 inch heels blowing me kisses from the corner of the closet where they are gathering dust...
my Uppababy stroller arrives and I know without a doubt that it's significantly nicer than my first car. when did being preggo get so chic?
I am amazed and appalled by how my body has completely taken over my willpower to do..
anything useful.
wake up..work. eat. go home..eat. plop on couch..eat something else..watch the yoga video..key word watch..collapse in bed with my new boyfriend..aka the snoozer pillow..obsess over everything not done..wonder if there are two or three Eggo waffles left..get perfectly comfortable..only to have to pee...collapse again..sleep for what feels like a minute..bathroom break..fall deeply asleep..wake up..just because
I don't exercise, although i dream of it..sometimes..
and my waist expands the weeks decrease...i spend precious time marveling at the flat stomach that once was..
reaffirming that in it's place is one healthy happy little fella.

third trimester = body is not your own..

My hair grows faster than I can wax it, and yes it’s true Matilda..you cease to be able to see your “parts” without the help of a very good mirror. I am sleepy, moody, weepy and excited. All within the span of five minutes. I plan my unborn son’s wedding, yet avoid setting up his nursery because it acknowledges I really am going to be a mother ..again.
I come to the conclusion that I am indeed the only pregnant woman not exercising. My body formerly known as fit will remain a part of history, along with my prom pictures. I tell myself to listen to my body, and it screams rest and Eggo waffles.
I buy flats for the first time and remember that laughing too hard causes leakage..of the pee kind…I know..gross. Ultrasound cufflinks are hot, and I measure my nose and my feet for unwelcome growth.
I notice that my baby loves the sound of drums and the piano and prefers me sleeping on my left side. I thank him for sparing me the stretch marks and swollen legs. When not crying, I am pretty damn happy.
I count my weeks gone by and to go obsessively, read over checklists and hate celebrity moms just because.

I jumped into the world of

expandable jeans - and to my surprise..I loved it! While shopping with my daughter for dresses for her graduation weekend last night, I decided with great reluctance to peek in Gap Maternity and check out the jeans, officially tired of trying to pack my belly and butt in my regular people jeans.. With a variety of beautiful shirts to choose from..I grabbed two pairs of jeans and took off for the fitting room, positive that while I might find comfort, I wouldn't find happiness the way I had with my True Religons..

HOW WRONG I WAS!

with the belly like girdle waist around my tummy, and the boot leg cut, I for three seconds felt..

FASHIONABLE!

I believe I actually squealed in the dressing room..
Four tops and one pair of expanda waist jeans later..( on sale no less)
I departed a happy camper..excited about showing off my belly and my baby blue jeans..
proves don't knock it till ya try it..

baby kicks the 24 week version

the proof of life that the jumps, punches and kicks bring never grow old to me....they can bring me out of the worst mood or anything that has me feeling less than wonderful...and I tell him so...when I find myself focusing on how big my butt has gotten I think that I made a decision to think not of my self first for nine months and I need to honor that..

I want to bury my face in his neck and kiss him till he giggles, I want to see what his eyes look like looking back at me, and what it will feel like to hold him as he falls asleep in my arms..
I wonder what it will be like to love two children when I so passionately love my daughter already, but being one of three, I know that the love is increased not diminished,..

I want him to see the world with light in his eyes and passion in his soul, and a strength that can only come from being loved fiercely and unconditionally..I want him to know how he is changing his dad daily before he has even laid eyes on him..

My house is still quiet..and I pray that my life inspires him. the way his already does for me.

nightmares, registries and exercise guilt

My butt is going to be as big as my belly soon..which is a first for me, since I have always had a pancake butt..but I guess eating waffles everyday doesn't help my cause...I am doing well to exercise three times a week..and by exercise I mean halfway through my yoga video, walking about 15 minutes and a few weight exercises here and there...other than that..i feel totally ok counting laundry, grocery shopping, and cleaning my house as exercise...
I wake up like clockwork before I would like..which somehow tells me that our baby is going to be an early riser..and his patterns, seem to coincide with that as well..his stuff is overtaking our apartment and we haven't even put the crib together yet..I dream in houses specifically one on the beach with a nice breeze..but that housebuying dream is on hold indefintely for now...and I am ok with that too.. I figure less to clean and no need for a baby monitor because I can hear him throughout the apartment!
Nightmares - GO AWAY! can i please have my pleasant dreams back and not these action packed Misson Impossible while preggo ones???
Baby registries...oye! I see everything and want everything but have to keep it realistic I suppose right? right..haha
I want to see my little guys face sososos bad..16 weeks to go and while it seems like a lifetime, I try to remind myself that out of the course of a lifetime, 10 months is a drop in the bucket..so enjoy being able to take him everywhere without sharing him, a stroller or a diaper bag..it's just me and him..

dad is gonna be the best dad...

while we are not together, we talk daily about everything and anything about our boy, both of us laughing about his developing personality that seems to completely take after his dad, I laugh at how he can't distinguish anything on the ultrasounds while I am convinced I have his features down to a tee...dad's chin and nose, my eyes, ..
we laugh about the lack of sleep approaching, laugh about whether or not he will pass out in the delivery room..
and I am reminded that in all things God has a perfect plan, and that us being friends for so long has turned out to be more important than anything else...he trusts me to be the mothe of his child and I trust him to be the dad..
of course we both wanted marriage before a child, but for whatever reason..that is not the path for us..
still.., I am peaceful and blessed and happy to have this boy of ours and the dad in my life!

that was the sound of my underwear tearing..

yep..the super sexy La Perla pair that I paid way too much money for..in my prior life( aka not preggers) they were loose, hung on my hips.granted I should of taken note when shift back and forth to get them on, but I needed to believe on Tuesday that they still fit...

then there is the fur like patch on my right shoulder that appeared out of nowwhere..
my nails that i can't trim enough my hair that grows faster than i can keep up with..
and my endless obsession with all things ranch ..dressing that is..

my son's schedule is interesting...currently...5:45 am, 9:30 ish, repeating every three hours..then for a wide awake, both feet and hands drum session..at 10 pm to 10:50 EVERY single night..
I guess that's his encore..:)

my baby keeps me sane..

some days i wonder whether i have lost my mind completely..between the fatigue, working a full time gig, juggling a pre teen, there is very little time left in my world for me...myself...without somehow feeling selfish..and complaining really doesn't work, after all no one wants to hear a pregnant woman's woes..( most think we wanted to be pregnant so...)
anyway,
the rainbow in the midst of the storm is my baby thump, kick, tickle giggle, reminding me..that all of this isn't a big merry go round of nothing..i am growing a little guy who is depending on me, and sending me his smiles via an elbows below my belly button...
and my 12 year old when not being over her mom does all and everything that a big sister should..washing dishes for me, cleaning up, climbing in bed next to me and showering my neck with her kisses...
oye..
I know God knows what he is doing...so i am trying to fall in line and be stronger than i am weak most of the time..
but when all i want to do is sleep and daydream.....
such is modus operandi for a thursday...

Do you know your child?

Do you know your own child?

I think I do. On most days that is. She’s beautiful, witty, athletic, outgoing and super tenacious. She’s exacting, punctual, and hates breakfast. She thinks there should be a moratorium on euthanizing animals. She quotes Kimora Lee Simmons and says thank you to beggars and bums when they hold the door for her. But she’s not popular. In fact, she avoids lunch time by hanging out in the computer lab, so sitting alone won’t be so obvious. She pretends the jokes made at her expense don’t sting, although she can’t help but listen to the discussions about birthday parties she wasn’t invited to. It’s happened for the last two years so continually that at times I have grown dull to her pain, because on most days much like most pre teens, she hides her hurt well.
.
Last night was different, and sadly, I almost missed the window to comfort her. My day was less than stellar, and I was hoping to slink into the house, and be bare minimum mom for the night. Say hello, hug, cook, small talk, bed for her, some peace and rest for me. While I washed dishes, I saw that glance shifting in the silence, waiting for me to offer her space. I turned away, even as she asked me to come sit and talk to her. I wanted it, whatever it was to wait another day.

She sensed my closed door and relented, picked up a book and withdrew. The gleam in her eye gone, and there she was, just my little girl who needed me more than I needed to be alone.
I wrapped her tall as me body in my arms and the tears started immediately, sobs caving her shoulders so much that I had to clench my own jaws to avoid crying.

“Why don’t they like me mama?” Everyone has at least one friend except me”

I rattle off a few names of girls that she occasionally mentions.

“They only like me sometimes. “

“I think you are perfect, and strong, and wonderful.” I say, knowing it’s not enough.

“They act like I don’t have feelings mom”

I let her share all her pain with more detail about her aloneness than I want to know. This is my first born and joy and all I can do is hold her, wondering if the parents of the children who cause this hurt..Know who their child is.

Because in a flash, I almost lost sight of mine.

karate chop kicks, 19 weeks, loss of sleep and lots of joy

He likes when I recline on the couch with my feet up, that seems to illict the most response from him, but last night was amazing..my daughter was laying on me, hand on my stomach, and her brother gave the strongest kick to date like " hey big sissy did ya feel that??" She jumped up, yelling excitedly " Mom I felt it!" to which her brother responded with a few more karate chops to confirm his presence..

Call me crazy but I am already learning his personality, and I know that he will be much like his dad and his sister, calm and a watcher, very content...somehow he quiets my fear and lets me know we are all going to be okay.

My belly button is turning into an outie..as my daughter observed, and while I am not in full on waddle walk, I do see no reason to return to heels.

I wish i could sleep past 6:48 am...have a feeling that may be the bewitching wake up hour for my boy..and he is preparing me..my desire to eat leafy greens and lots of fruit has left and now, I have to force myself to not eat sour cream and potato chip constantly...oh how i miss red wine...

I am going to put on a bathing suit today and let the 19 week stomach hang out in all it's glory..

a half pound and 8 inches long!

My doctor said we are going to have a long big baby boy! He was moving every which way, showing off for his dad, since it was his first ultrasound appointment..I thought on several occasions he was going to pass out... big difference from seeing a picture of an ultrasound and seeing THE ultrasound in real time... Our baby likes to wave, ALOT..while on his back, his side, and any other way that he can think of, all the while kicking his mama...

I can feel small flutters and outright kicks..his favorite space is right below my belly button on the right, mvoing over to the left side for the night time...

I have said goodbye to all but one pair of my pre maternity clothes...a pair of 27 inch True Religons, and those are barely a fit now...it's onward to the dresses, and the like, since I refuse to buy maternity garb, just don't like it!

But what I do love, is being pregnant. Even when it sucks, and I can't get comfortable, my nose is congested and the fatigue rules,

I only think of that little face inside of me working overtime to grow, and all of sudden,
all is right in the world again...

not superwoman..this week at least..

All week I have been doing my version of “I think I can I think I can” ..reminding myself that getting pregnant is a blessing and not a curse, just because I am not married. Last Saturday my belly popped out, at sixteen weeks, so like that, I went from barely looking pregnant to pregnant. The belly opens up the door for the entire universe to comment on the state of your pregnancy.

“Wow how far along are you again?”

“Make sure you get checked for gestational diabetes”

“Talked to the father lately?”

“I could never do what you are doing. Ever. You are like superwoman”

Usually, maybe, sometimes, but not this week. In fact, I have carefully searched my apartment for my cape only to come up with nada. My 12 year old is gone for a couple of weeks visiting her dad for Spring Break. It’s just me in a pair of Nikes, running a little faster than this cold, and our cat Sunset.

The phone hasn’t rung this week with a call from the dad. I only gained a pound in the last four weeks, just seems it’s all in my belly. And as my breasts expand even further, I attempt comfort by a trip to Old Navy to get some clothes more in line with my current size.

I end up crying silently in the dressing room, picking up the mediums and large size dresses that fit. This sucks alone. Especially right now.

I have a pity party in my head back to the car, and then I sit in the car for about thirty minutes.
I rub my stomach and tell my son how my I love him, and to ignore mom’s momentary insanity. I tell him every single good thing I can recall of his dad which takes a while.

I tell myself screw the cape and get over it..there will be a lot more days a whole lot tougher than this one. I knew that going in.

So I dump a bag of fear and a smaller suitcase of loneliness out the window. For now.

And drive home.

exhausted and comatose..that's where you'll find me

I spend most of my days somewhere being exhausted and comatose. Waking up tired is chic and my appreciation for all things take out has returned. My inner Martha Stewart folds and creases endless pages with great sales ideas and all the stupendous projects I am going to tackle..tomorrow. I have notebooks to organize my notepads and lying in bed nightly solve the problems of small countries . I condemn the laundry with a stern look and refuse to be lured by it’s continual growth, setting an alarm on my blackberry to check out full service wash dry fold places.
Daily I cart my gym bag to work, remembering how great I felt two months ago when I slipped on my Nikes. More energy, more stamina, and no droopy butt. However, lunch is infinitely more enticing and what’s 20 stinkin minutes on the bike going to do anyway? My body continues to shape shift in preparation for baby landing aka birth. Potato sacks and burlap soon will be my only viable options, as the breasts continue to make their case for soverign nation status. I spend whole hours staring at black and white grainy ultrasounds, fascinated by my baby boys face already. I cry for everything and nothing, laugh and talk to my stomach knowing I am heard.I dig in my daughter's ears in public, lick my finger to get dirt off her face, and just like that, I am my mother.
Pregnancy brain loss surfaces when I return to the parking garage clueless about my car's location. Sexy underwear left with my waistline and in it's place a worn Sox jersey and my used to be too big sweats. I'm officially hot.I scroll through my 12 year old daughter’s phone contacts and come across my own name saved under mom. And just like that, I am cured for the moment, from the over everything and underliving blues. At least until tomorrow.

amazed at the assumptions people make

My father is a red haired Irish man, my mother a Monacan Sioux, dutch black woman. I was raised and continue to be nurtured and blessed by the best parents on the planet. Marriage in my family is the norm, and I can't think of anyone in my family besides myself who is a single parent. Despite my liberal upbring in Massachusetts, I have been an active member of the Republican party since I was 21. I didn't finish college but have worked my tail off to get to the place where I have a pretty comfortable standard of living. My daughter is a joy,beautiful, kind,intelligent and her dad and I have always joined forces to give her the best we can from two different homes. It was very difficult coming home the first time unwed and pregnant, more so because I felt I had let my parents down and I didn't want to become a statistic. So even when times were very hard, I worked three jobs, maintained home and joy and believed even when I couldn't see it that hard work and determination can get you out of most situations.

I never planned on another child unmarried, but morally abortion was never an option. Financially I am capable, and I feel that part of the problem of our society is the throw away mentality. Don't like what you did, take a pill, ignore it, blame someone else. Do anything but face your own choice square in the eye. I tell my daughter that while she can survive any situation, God intended for parenting in the best case scenario to be done with two parents and not one.
Daily, however, as I blog on various topics throughout the web about my single pregnancy, people make the assumption that as a woman of color having her second child, I must be headed for or already on welfare.
I am the first to denounce lazy people- black white, red green single married. There are many many people of all races and creeds that worked hard day in and day out because that was the right thing to do, and because they had a strong sense of integrity. However I know especially in this day and age, people hit hard times, and as a single parent, those times come five times as fast, because there is only one person to count on.
No person in their right mind would without great and deep thought have a child alone. I pray daily for strength, courage and fortitude to be all that i need to be for my children. And as much as I cry when it comes, I will never feel sorry for myself nor wonder why me.
I chose my life and I put into place the circumstances. How i react to those always is within my control.
Just as I teach my daughter right and wrong, I teach her that while she should have a strong moral compass, it is not her place to stand in judgement of anyone, that remains on God's shoulders alone.
My parents love is going into it's 41st year. I am thankful that they were able to be steadfast and choose love over comfort, and were able through example to instill that in us.

"You're single and pregnant...so.....

“You’re single and pregnant…so…
”I’m single and pregnant. Translated means, not married, one name on my lease. And no, the father didn’t bronze my pee stick. He’s my hot friend that I’ve slept with, here and there, heavy emphasis on the here and there for the last fourteen years. We tried the traditional dating and never lasted for more than a month, yet have a definite bond.. That everyone else talks about even when we’ve been oblivious. The morning after the night of the “deed” (feel free to insert a more graphic term suitable to your imagination and taste) I called him and informed him that we had to cease and desist. (aka no more nookie nookie) He agreed and I called my best friend excited that we finally had agreed to leave each other alone.
A few weeks later the flashing preggers appeared on the digital stick. Contrary to what you might think up to this point, I don’t advise single parenthood as a first choice. Any mother will tell you motherhood is a dual position in an optimum environment. Going it alone requires a measure of insanity and fortitude not easily found in the female population, but readily available within me.
15 weeks into this pregnancy has been ideal and my emotions constant and cheerful thanks now to my love of everything food. Especially ranch dressing. I talk to the dad a little more often now, even discussing names and parenting styles. We don’t hate each other and he will be a present father, dare I say a wonderful dad. I’m not bothered by the stares or the silences that come with my announcement or the lack of real joy because of my single status. I’m 40 and thankfully haven’t worried too much about public opinion since tenth grade when I dropped the baton during the state championships in the 4 x400 relay. My exuberance doesn’t mean I lack fear or sadness, it only conveys what my mom has always told me..

”What you feel is most of what you are.”

And I feel blessed. Even single and pregnant.

i love being pregnant..

even though sleep is never enough, my hips are baby having hips now, my nose i think is most defintely wider, yet in still i laugh much more, am more relaxed, able to see alot more good than bad, more forgiving of everyone and anything, and unable no matter how and what way i look at this, to see it as a bad thing..

no matter what coat it comes in, it's a blessing.

I officially bid adieu to my waistline yesterday...with a touch of

sadness..yeah, I know...selfish, but hey, I'm honest..I opened up my trunk and with one flick of my wrist, tossed away my vanity...my beloved 25 and 26 inch waisted True Religion jeans. then I went back upstairs to focus my energies on my favorite pregnancy passion...eating...i wish i could just jump into a pool of ranch dressing and live there...I can't get enough! and when not dreaming in ranch, I am staring at my ultrasound, proudly already determing that he has his father's profile..:)

dreamt oatmeal and woke up tired

...but no one ever said growing a baby was easy. I've pulled over into the exhausted lane of life, happily, and figure it's a prelude for the next eight years of life with boy. My obsession with all things food continues..as I type I am dreaming of the oatmeal and how yummy it will taste, picturing what is exactly in my frig now and looking forward to my morning scramled egg whites, grapefruit and toast with oj.

My daughter continues to lift up my superwoman cape for me when I am more content to shove it in the back of the closet, she hugs me and her baby brother more than usual, talks into my belly button and tells me what a great momma I am..

and I can't help but remembering the joy I felt when I first saw her face, how instantly i understood what uncondtional love was staring into her eyes..how in that split second how I wanted to be better and more....
I would rather walk blind with faith than eyes wide open with fear...I figure if I'm not a little scared, I'm not really human...

just makes me a parent...this is one of my favorite pictures of my dad and my brother..just because..

that wasn't gas! that was baby field goal kicks!

My eggs are old, I'm old, everything should hurt, I'll be outta breath, tired, crazy and did i fail to mention?

old.

If you want to get really jazzy add single....The warning labels are plastered everywhere.. " Be happy! ...as long as you are under 40...other wise...

"get your med alert bracelet and brace for impact.."

okay I am joking..kind of...but believe it or not, I feel BETTER with this pregnancy at 40 than I did with my daughter at 27 and with her I lost the 35 pounds in three weeks, she slept through the night from day one and never ever wet the bed...

Alot has to do that it's safe to say I am a wee bit saner this time around...more mature, less likely to give a flying ....about the blank amd silent stares directed to my empty left finger when I say i'm preggers...dare i be....

Happy?? and 40????

yep.

that's what I am..and so is my baby BOY!!!.

.he gives me baby field goal kicks at night and keeps me so happy the other 23 hours of the day that I imagine six kids..in another lifetime...( no Octo mom here..) I like being pregnant!...even at 40..Today my doctor is going to humor me and let me know if I have a linebacker or ...not..:)

Either way, I'll still be 40...and defintely...stillhappy.

sleep and my waistline have offically left the building..

I guess that is my trade off for no morning sickness...Getting comfortable is impossible..body pillow, the couch, the " correct " sleep styles...all yuk...between my Mt Everest sized boobs and my expanding waistline..sleep has officially left the building.. I cat nap..and when lucky find a few moments where sleep is perfect, golden, before I have to get up to go to my favorite place..

the bathroom...

Being the exclusive caterer and hotel for my little baby boy( remember, this is my reality..) is going to require some great eye cream, but come September 15th..it will all be worth it..

pancakes still, ranch dressing, carrots and TACO BELL..oh my!

You would think I was feeding a future starting linebacker the way my cravings have gone...first five weeks, I ate bags of spinach,asparagus and broccoli..then i graduated to celery, carrots, turkey and pasta...moving on with great speed to my current fave, pancakes, anything and everything with ranch dressing( i lick the bowl till its gone) scrambled egg whites and toast.....and now to the big boy Taco Bell...for the last five days at work, it's been three tacos with onions and hot sauce...I feel like all i do is eat! I am going to confess...I caved into a half of cup of coffee one day..and I my baby didn't give me a seal of approval, in fact I think he kicked me..no flutter there, a KICK!
In between actual work at work, I am consumed thinking and planning my next meal, silently calculating in my brain if I have given baby boy/girl enough nutrients..am I doing enough of everything..before I get home, peel out of my work clothes and collapse into my fav yoga pants, Red Sox shirt( quickly becoming a half shirt) and fuzzy slippers..
then my daughter and I coo and talk to the baby boy( I am going with that until further notice) before the late hour of 9:30 comes around and my eyes start to get heavy on the couch...
By ten o'clock I feel like I have been working in 100 degree weather in the cotton fields...
Being pregnant can wear you out!:)

I'm having a baby! - no that's not a typo..

due in September..thought about renaming the blog, but too complicated and I like my moniker..I'm eating veggies now, hot dogs, belgian pudding and celery when the mood hits...Gave up coffee, tequila, and red wine cold turkey..fun week that was.:) 40 years old and I am sure that God always has a sense of humor with my life...not a planned pregnancy but I am thrilled...and the baby xray( as my dad calls him) is cooperating immensely..no morning sickness, just a superhuman nose..I can smell everything anyone has eaten in the last day, as well as bo around the corner...not the best super sense to have, but it beats barfing...I've joined every baby club on the net, but most of those women scare me, have me obsessing over things I would prefer not to obsess about.. although it's fun to see that there are over three hundred women in my due Septemeber 15th birth club..not so fun to think I'll qualify for the early bird specials when my baby xray is graduating from high school...my firstborn thinks this is awesome and is being the best big sister already...but she was born essentially perfect..so nothing less was expected....

gotta go now and eat this healthy breakfast I guess..headed to the doctor to see the little baby heartbeat...swoon...I am officially in love with my baby.