Kerri, with a K

trying to be me


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Thoughts…

Sigh.

I should be sleeping.  Or cleaning.  But I’m wide awake.  I have some annoying life insurance physical exam at 10:30 this morning, and I have very little interest in it.  But I’ll do it and get it over with.

Otherwise, I’m taking a short pause from the A to Z Challenge.  Just a post about babies.  Which I could have done two days ago, under the letter B, but I didn’t really think of these things until yesterday.

I have a son.  He’s almost 10 months old.  And he is the best thing ever.  And Hubs and I tried for nearly two years to conceive before the Boy blessed us.  And now I’m wondering if we should be doing it again.

A friend of mine back home, who was pregnant the same time I was, just announced that they are expecting baby #2.  I couldn’t be happier for them.  I wish them all the best.  But it got me thinking about whether I want to do it again.  I guess deep down, I would love to have another child.  And if God wants to bless us with another child, so be it.  I won’t be upset.  But the question is: are we supposed to have another child?  Maybe not now, but someday?  I don’t want to put any silly limits on myself with age or time between kids and whatnot.  And if it happens, that’s the way it was supposed to be.  But is it supposed to be?  I know we won’t know until we know.  And we haven’t been trying.  And we’ve talked about waiting a little bit for the Boy to get a little older.

But the thing is, I hate the questions.  I hated the questions when I was single about when I was getting married.  And the ones when I was married about when we’re having kids.  And now that we have a kid, the questions that ask if we’re having more.  I think it’s a terribly personal question, but people love to ask anyway.  And I don’t really have a polite, classy, diplomatic response.  I usually answer, “we don’t know yet,” or something of the like.

I guess what I’m saying is that I would love to have another baby, but if it’s not meant to be I won’t be upset because that is the way it is supposed to be.  But if we end up being blessed again, I know I’ll be over the moon.

I just don’t like the questions that put you on the spot.

Also, I think I’m feeling a little pressure because both my parents mentioned it the other day.  In a very direct, very obvious way.  I told my mother that I didn’t want any more, and that one was enough, and she was sad.  But my default mode when dealing with my mother is to not give her any hope, because she WILL take it too far.  And then it’s sad if I have to let her down.

I don’t know.  Just a few things I’m thinking about.

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A is for… April Fools

One month.  26 posts.  A to Z.  Check it out here.  And join the challenge.

Ugh.  I can’t begin tell you how much I dislike April Fools Day.  Aside from the fact that the day belongs to my BIL, my puppy, and a childhood friend, Hubs LOVES to play funny practical jokes.  Except sometimes, they just aren’t funny.  Only in a not funny then, funny now sort of way.

Hubs played three successful jokes.  And by successful I mean that he was able to take advantage of my inherent gullibility amazing brilliance.  First, he told me our cat got out.  Grrr.  Tiny is an indoor cat who has been known from time to time to take a walk out the door and onto the front porch.  So this was very believable.  And I’m still shaking my fist at him for this one.

Joke number two was lottery related.  Given that we didn’t win the $640 million, Hubs bought a scratch ticket.  Typically, when we play scratch tickets, the most we ever win is $1 or $2, so we break even.  Hubs told me we won $50.  Yeah, I was excited.  Until he started giggling.  More fist shaking.

And joke number three was just as good and annoying (but don’t tell him about the good part).  The Boy has been trying to climb out his seat for awhile now.  He used to be successful at throwing himself out and faceplanting on the floor.  But then I raised it so he can’t get out.  Except he almost did trying to reach something on the floor.  So, while I was in the kitchen, Hubs told me that the Boy had climbed out of his seat.  Which would not have surprised me if he had.  And I went rushing in the room to see, only to find the Boy playing quietly with a toy I’d just given him.  Am I still fist shaking?  You betcha-by-golly-wow I am.

But in an effort to redeem myself, we called my parents for our big practical joke.  I made my dad get out of bed, so both parents could be on the phone to hear our BIG NEWS.  Dad was assuming our news was that I’m pregnant again.  Which I am not.  And would probably not tell them over the phone anyway.  We DID tell them that Hubs was part of a pool at work that won the lottery, so we had to split that $640 million 14 ways.  Mom was in hysterics with her screaming and yelling.  All dad could ask was if we were going to pay off the house.

Yup.  April Fools!

Also, one of my Facebook friends posted a funny status that was along the lines of:

What if April Fools doesn’t really exist and it’s the longest running practical joke ever?

Love it.

What were your best jokes from April Fools?


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Visiting Day

I went to visit my Aunt L (AL) yesterday.  It was a favor to my dad of sorts.  And probably the right thing to do.  AL is a recovering drug addict.  As in, I knew her all my life and she never did drugs around the family, and things never got to the point of an intervention, and I don’t think I knew about any of it until I got much MUCH older.  She has a daughter T, who now has a son OC who is severely disabled.

But no one comes to St. Pete to visit them.  Hubs and I have been down here three times, and this was the first time we visited.  Mostly because I didn’t have much interest before, given the history.  AL had stolen from me once or twice, and from the family of course.  And she is the reason my dad is blind nearly blind in one eye.  But when my parents needed her, she was there.  So I went to visit.

And it was sad.  The house she’s living in now was left to her from her mother who passed away five years ago.  She had three houses, and two of them were sold to divide the money between her children.  I don’t think my dad saw a penny.

The house looks very different than I remember it.  The outside looks awful and unkempt, but the inside was just as clean as it had ever been.

And I say it was sad because I hadn’t been here in over five years and I wasn’t surprised by any of it.  I went with a mixture of excitement and anxiety.  I don’t have many relatives, much less ones that I care to have anything to do with, and the fact was, AL was a constant for awhile.  And I miss having family.  I remember times when she would do my hair, and would want to take me places and would always acknowledge me.

I’ve had her on my mind since we decided to visit St. Pete this year.  Nothing big or spectacular, just a thought.  And I’d been weighing the pros and cons of going to visit and what precautions I’d have to take and how I would have to prepare myself emotionally.  But yesterday morning, I called my parents to ask their opinion.  I wanted to know that what I wanted to do was the right thing to do and was what they wanted me to do.

And it was, of course.

So we visited.  And it was hard.  And sad.  But also good because she is still family, and I was happy to hear she was doing so well.  T on the other hand, is doing exactly what AL had done at the same age.  Running the streets and doing drugs and probably selling herself for cash.  And perhaps this is all speculation.  And I won’t be the judgy one, even though I’m probably judging them six ways from Sunday because it is not what I would do.

But then again, what WOULD I do in those circumstances?

Anyway, it made me so grateful for the things I have and the life I have, and the family and friends that I have in my life.  It truly made me see that things are going to go the way they are supposed to go, and you just have to be patient.

But the point is, I did it.  And it was the right thing to do.


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the one in which I vent frustration for the purposes of venting and letting go

You can’t please all of the people all of the time.  You can’t even please some of the people some of the time.  I might want to stop trying so hard.

I’m not a pool person.  The fact that we are living in a hotel with an indoor pool does not speak to that fact.

If house hunting is for the birds, I must be one.  Except, it’s not fun anymore.  And I need it to be finished.

I have a problem with grudge-holders.  And I can’t stand people who hold onto things and do not tell me when they are upset, only to throw it back in my face later.  Even though I may have done it once or twice.  I’m a hypocrite, what up.

I’m feeling the mommy-stress in some areas.  I love my son.  But I sometimes wish I was better at this mommy thing.  And I’m sure there are some out there that think I’m doing everything wrong, when in fact I am just doing the best I can.

I hate the internet in the hotel.  It runs too slow and is keeping me from updating my iPhone to iOS 5.

There are few things in life that really hurt my feelings: saying I don’t care about my son and watching my dad have his feelings hurt.  I know I might not be able to understand how I may offend or insult, but don’t take it out on my father, or my family.

I need an endgame.  And I need to feel like everything I’m doing to get there is worth it.

I forgot how much I missed watching live TV.  The downside is that I also miss my DVR and because the internet is so slow, I can’t easily watch videos on the internet.

Avoidance benefits no one.  Except the on who is doing the avoiding.  Temporarily.

Don’t hate just because I like the Jersey Shore.  I’m allowed a guilty pleasure show.

It’s been 5 days, and I’m tired of living in a hotel.

I feel like I want to give up and surrender, but I do not want to be defeated.  The madness must continue until it’s done.


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Newsletter: Month Three

Dear Logan:

You’re three months old now.  Actually, you’re three months and a few weeks.  You turned three months on 9/11.  I didn’t want to post your newsletter that day because there was just so much else going on.  Ten years later.  I wonder how your dad and I are going to teach you about all the evils in the world, but not to be afraid of them, and to stand up for what you believe in.

But, wow.  Three months.  Time reallly does fly and at the same time move so slowly.  I just can’t get over that.  And every day you learn something new.

You’ve been talking so much more.  And you’ve learned to babble and blow raspberries.  But my favorite thing of all is that you learned how to scream.  At first, it seemed like it was just for fun, but then you started using it to communicate that you were hungry and tired.  I must say, the screaming is far more pleasant than crying, which makes me sad.  The screaming is pretty funny – for now.  And it’ll be funny until it isn’t anymore.

Your dad and I learned that you love to watch yourself on video.  We recorded you watching yourself, and talking to the video, and you loved it, and it calmed you down an awful lot.

Although, I think we created a monster because now you love to watch TV.  Perhaps that was to be expected, and you don’t have a real idea about what you’re watching, but that just means we have to be careful what we watch while you’re awake.

We took you on your first road trip over Labor Day weekend.  Your dad lost a friend, whom he still refers to as a former boss, and we thought to take the opportunity to visit your grandparents and various others on a trip up to Boston.  You got to meet your Aunt Mary, and your Pops’ closest and oldest friend, Cliff, and the crazy neighbor lady whose name I can never remember.  (Unless it’s Joanne, because then I TOTALLY remember it).

And your met your Papa, and got to see Grammie again.  Not to mention your cousins Austin, Liam and Ian, and your Auntie Erica and Uncle Don.

And then there was Kathy, your godmother and my best friend, and her family – Roger, Allison and Sarah.

And everyone absolutely loved you.

Oh, and all those Grandmas… the ones that love your daddy.

You were so great on your very first road trip.  We were in a different car, and we had never been on the road for that long yet, so I could understand why you were so cranky and sad.  But we fixed that immediately, and the rest of your trip was good.

One of the most fascinating things about your trip to the frigid north was the extent to which you respond to music.  We knew before that you enjoyed listening to dad play the piano, and the songs we sing in church.  But there was a moment when it just hit me that you absolutely LOVE music.  You were so cranky, nearly inconsolable and there was nothing you wanted to do… until dad brought you over to the piano and started playing for you.  And it was like a switch flipped inside you, and you were so content and calm listening to the sounds of the keys.  It was truly amazing.

Since we’ve been back, or maybe even a little before we left, we’ve been skyping with Meemaw and Pops, and they have absolutely loved it.  I’ve never seen them happier than when they get to see you on the computer.  Sure, you have no idea that the silly baby on the screen is actually you, but it is, and you love it.

I’m so proud to be your mom, and so excited to see what new things you’ll learn next.  So far, it’s been quite a ride, and I can’t wait for more.

Love,

Mommy


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The Worst Pregnancy Advice I’ve Received So Far

NOTE: This is one of those posts in which I talk about sex.  More specifically, MY sex life.  Not everyone is interested in hearing about such things, and if you’re one of those people, just stop reading now… you’ll thank me for it later.

Everybody is ready and willing to dish out advice on pregnancy.  Even those who have never been pregnant, but had a friend/relative/mom/sister/aunt who was, and therefore they know everything.  Everyone has an opinion about one thing or another, whether it be names or whatever else.

Now, I love getting advice and opinions, especially since this is my first go at child bearing.  There are a lot of women/moms out there that have offered information worth its weight in gold, and I am so grateful for it.

I’ve been reading books and getting weekly update emails about where I am or should be, what my little nugget is doing inside me, and how to stay healthy and keep him healthy.  And I love reading.  There is so much information, and so many things I never knew.

However.

There was one piece of advice that totally got into my head.  No, it wasn’t about labor or birth or C-sections.  All of those things have so much weight behind them that it’s easy to get lost in freaking out about that many things that could go wrong.  But I’m keeping a good attitude and a clear head about those things.

No.  The worst thing I ever could have read/heard about pregnancy was about sex.  I’ve heard from different people that it gets better as the pregnancy progresses.  That I will agree with.  What killed me was the idea that orgasms would be harder to reach.  Yes.  I said orgasm.

I understand that the orgasm can be elusive for some women.  And by no means do you need to have one to have great sex.  For me, though, I have no trouble achieving this elusive orgasm every time.  And that’s rare.  I thank my dear husband in large part for that.

However.

Since I’ve read this terrible information, true as it may be, my orgasms have become far more elusive – okay, nonexistent – and I can’t begin to express my frustration.  I had gone nearly a week without one, and I was starting to worry.  And the only thing that kept echoing through my head was the passage from The Girlfriend’s Guide to Pregnancy I read about this elusiveness:

…we have a consensus on three major points: First, if you are at interested in sex, you can get aroused much more quickly than ever before.

Check.

Second, even though you are easily aroused, it will probably take you longer than before to achieve orgasm.

More annoying Check.

And third, you should take all the extra time you need because the pregnant orgasm is even more profound, longer-lasting, and accompanied by more aftershocks than you’ve ever experienced before.

Color me the most annoyed person.  Ever.

If you ask my hubs, and provided he’ll tell you, I am extremely in tune with my sexuality.  I mentioned above that under normal circumstances, my statistics are pretty high when it comes to orgasms.  But after reading that, I found myself profoundly annoyed, and I let it get to me.

Do I get aroused more easily?  Maybe.  Honestly, I didn’t notice a change, and that’s fine.  I was super into it before, I’m super into it now, and I will definitely be super into later.

Are orgasms really THAT much better during pregnancy?  Um, not really.  They were already mind-blowing and earth-shattering to begin with, so the alleged upgrade does not exist for me.

But damnit if I didn’t get caught on the it will probably take you longer than before comment.  Seriously?

Honestly, you can only go for so long before getting tired, especially when pregnant.  You’re tired all the time anyway.  And the more work you do, the more energy you exert and the more tired you get.  And also, your partner might want to have a say in the length of time spent getting your naughty on.

So, instead of being in the moment, and enjoying time with my hubs, I couldn’t get my mind away from stupid thoughts.  Am I taking too long?  How long is this really going to take?  What kind of trouble are the animals getting into?  I wonder if hubs is getting bored because I’m taking too long…

My advice, gentle readers, is this: if you are pregnant for the first or the third or any time, read as much as you can, get advice from friends and other moms who have gone through the same things, but take it all with a grain of salt.  Understand that everyone is different.  Everyone has different responses to different situations, and no one person is exactly like another.  Don’t get hung up on the little things.  You are bringing new life into this world and there will be side effects.  Don’t let it bother you and go on living your life.

For those who were brave enough to read this until the end, I was able to get out of my head and into the moment long enough to not take forever.  And I must say, it was deeply, deeply satisfying.  No more head games for me.


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I just spent hours on the phone with the car insurance company and the cable company.  I don’t think I want to be on the phone anymore today.  I don’t understand why people don’t get the concept of good customer service, or customer service at all.  Like I NEED to be stressed out and frustrated.

To calm those nerves I spent less than an hour at the bookstore looking for a book I heard about on TV yesterday.  Exploiting My Baby, by Teresa Strasser.  There are so many clinical books out there that explain the what and the wherefore, but this seems to be a more down-to-earth look at the reality of pregnancy.  Once I let the bookstore take over, and let myself breathe for a moment, I found another book that seems equally amusing and not all that neurotic: The Girlfriends’ Guide to Pregnancy, by Vicki Iovine.

Having just found out we’re having a boy, feeling his heartbeat and seeing his little body inside me, things seem more real now.  Not that they weren’t before.  It’s just the idea that there is a little nugget inside me, spending my days and nights with me, 24/7… bonding with me, just hanging out.  It’s incredible. And no, I don’t want to be one of those women who’s all, Check out my baby, he’s better than you’re baby… I’m just amazed at how connected I feel.  Yes.  I’m that sappy.

And the beautiful thing?  I was so incredibly stressed dealing with people on the phone all morning that I never want to be on the phone again, and the calming effect of the bookstore and getting books that will tell me what’s going on with the little nugget is pretty darn cool.

And the animals are actually calm.  I wonder if they can sense anything?