Archive for February, 2007

Round FOUR?

Well, it’s settled. March 19th I have an appointment to get the blasted IUD removed.

I’ve now tried nearly every type of birth control on the market and have yet to be satisfied. And trust me, I’m not going to start charting my cervical mucus and taking my temperature.

I have devised my own birth control plan, which looks like this:

Sex during period=OK
Sex the week after period=OK
Sex the week before period=OK

That just leaves the one week remaining where sex is taboo. Not that I’m having loads of sex. But without proper planning, it would be just my luck that I would actually have my once-a-month sex romp ON MY OVULATION WEEK.

So. How long do you think it will take before I end up with an accidental pregnancy? Taking bets.

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The spectrum of knowledge

I wasn’t going to write about this. It just seemed too personal. I’m not quite sure why, considering I’ve written on this subject before. Hell, I’ve written on damn near everything that I consider to be highly personal. Maybe I’m just sick of writing about THIS.

By “THIS”, I mean my marriage.

The night before last, B came home. Drunk. I could tell he was already drunk when he called me from the ferry. I can always tell right away, because he gets unusually chipper and his words slur just so.

I really should thank my lucky stars that he doesn’t come home drunk and start beating my ass.

But instead, he comes home all happy and full of these big drunken ideas. He plays with the kids and is incessantly nice to them. He makes these huge promises and commitments that he’ll never be able to fulfill. He starts going on rants and rampages and off on tangents. He thinks he’s being really deep, but he just sounds completely incoherent and ridiculous.

After we put the kids to bed, I was reading a book on parenting. He wanted to talk about it. It’s one of those books where the intent is that you’ll go through it with your partner. Kind of like a workbook. I knew that would never happen with him, so I’ve forged ahead on my own. Anyway, his drunken self tried to convince me that he wanted to know. I started to explain the first concept of the book to him. It was about validating your child’s feelings. He stopped me after a few sentences and went off on his own lengthy speech about how he always does that with the kids, and how his own childhood was, etc. He got completely off track. I think he forgot what we were talking about. When he took a breath, I continued on with my explanation of the first chapter. He stood up and said “I’M DONE. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” I looked at him and said “What? But we just started!”

He got pissed. Anyone who has been around their share of drunk people has seen this phenomenon. One minute their fine, and the next minute they go apeshit because they think that someone has said or done something shitty to them. He starts repeating, “I said I was done! Why can’t you respect me? Respect my manhood! Why do you always make me feel inferior?” I just sat there and pretended to keep reading. A few times I couldn’t handle it anymore and had to laugh a bit. I told him I was going to bed. He smoked a cigarette and then came into our bedroom, flipped on the light and kept going on and on about respect and his manhood. One of the funniest parts of this one-sided conversation is when he asked me, “What do you think our kids know that is beyond our spectrum of knowledge?” At that point I actually laughed really hard, and then buried my head under the covers to drown him out.

I’m so insanely sick of the alcohol use. I can hardly enjoy a glass of wine anymore because my hatred for how the stuff affects my husband is growing at an alarming rate.

The whole marriage is just the biggest pile of shit ever.

And I keep saying I’ll leave. I get divorce papers started. I shred them. I look for a job. I get scared. I make plans. I back out.

The simple fact is that I am enjoying staying at home too much. I know that I would lose all that if I divorced. My marriage is not so unbearable that I am willing to give it up. I want to raise my kids. Is that so terrible?

The fronts

This morning I took Kai to one of the FIVE (yes FIVE!) off-leash dog parks on the island. The one we have been going to is really cool. It has 5 acres of fenced meadow, and then 11 acres of wooded trails. It’s such a cool park. They provide dog toys, pooper scoopers, poop baggies, shovels, and gallons and gallons of water for the canines. So far, we’ve stayed in the fenced meadow. She’s always been really skittish around other dogs, so we’re working on socialization. Today, I was able to take her off the leash right away and she played nicely and ran around with the other doggies. Unfortunately, I woke up to another pee pile from her this morning. So I guess we’re still trying to work out the kinks.

On the home front, we’ve somehow acquired a nice case of ant infestation. Luckily they are the teeny tiny ants, but they’ve been infiltrating the house in droves. We bought some ant bait, which was complicated to place considering we have a dog AND a curious toddler who could easily be poisoned. I can’t wait until these fuckers die. I was watching a movie last night, felt an itch, and found an ant in my cleavage. Sicko.

On the mom front, I had my first meeting with Pigpen’s teacher today. She was super nice. She said that Pigpen was very smart and popular with the other kids. She says he’s working at grade level, but she’s afraid that his problems with focus/distraction will cause him to start having learning gaps and he will start to fall behind. He is practically incapable of working independently and needs constant reminders to stay on task. Not to mention the daywetting issues. She seemed really willing to cooperate with me to help Pipgen succeed in school. I have an appointment with a pediatrician in a few weeks and I’ll know more then about an official ADD diagnosis.

Animal is teething and so I’m working on very little sleep, with a cranky toddler screaming bloody murder 24/7. He actually has full bite marks up and down his arms. At least he’s not biting ME.

On the professional front, my birth doula workshop starts on FRIDAY!!! I can’t believe it’s here already. I’m unbelievably excited.

Sorry I couldn’t be more interesting today. I’m trying, I really am. Spring is on its way and it’s not my best season. I am now definitely contemplating a trip to the dreaded physician for a bottle of very un-granola happy pills.

I’m a diva and you should be too!

So I have finally received the famous Diva Cup in the mail, and my cycle has arrived. I actually anticipated the day the Aunt Flo would visit. I couldn’t wait to try the sucker out.

It took (and still takes) several tries before I have inserted it correctly. I have heard that it only takes a few cycles before you’re a pro at insertion. It’s a little messy during the learning phase, but after you’ve had experience, I hear it’s no different than an applicator-less tampon.

Once it has been inserted correctly, you feel absolutely nothing. No re-insertions for TWELVE WHOLE HOURS. And the best part (the part which I had imagined would be absolutely disgusting) is taking it out and seeing how much blood you’ve collected. There are little ounce markings on the cup, so you can measure exactly how much blood you’re losing during each cycle. It’s so much fun. I’ve never been so excited about my period.

I swear to you ladies, you must try out the Diva Cup. Here’s why:

1. Health. Tampons and pads have some disgusting chemical shit in them that is toxic to your body. They are just NOT GOOD FOR YOU!

2. The Diva Cup will shorten your period, and lighten your flow. The chemicals in paper pads and tampons screw everything up.

3. Savings. For $20 you can buy a Diva Cup that will last you several years. Forget late night trips to the grocery store to pay $12 for a box of tampons.

Trust me on this one. It’s worth a try.

My Girl Posse

One of the best things I got out of this last year was some new girlfriends and some reconnections with long lost girlfriends. It’s been a long time since I had an all-female support network and I had forgotten how crucial it really is. It’s easy to get lost in the rat race, our careers, motherhood and marriage. It doesn’t take long before you realize that without a circle of supportive women, you will lose yourself. I am tired of being lost. I am tired of being defined as just “mommy” or “wife.” I won’t be the talented woman who wastes away at home, watching her inner life pass her by. I am pulling myself out of the muck, out of the daily grind, and I am giving myself some attention. Because I deserve it.

And now, I have been invited to join a “Girl Posse.” Masterminded by my dear friend Robynne, with the membership slowly growing. Much like a prayer chain, we are linking together to form an intricate support system that will not allow any one member to drown. We are developing strong female bonds. We are speaking out about our issues, releasing them with words. And then, we are healed by prayer, good vibes, positive thinking, encouragement and support.

There is nothing in this world that can compare to female friendship. I am so grateful to have so many women in my life who offer me their undying support. I love you, grrrls.

More Random Shite

I have a new doula client, which rocks. She’s due April 15th, which is uncomfortably close to my existing client. (Due April 3rd.) I think it will be okay though. It’d better be. I also have an “interview” next week with a woman who is due in July. Now all I need are a few births around May/June and I should be certified by late summer. Ohhhhh yeah. Let’s all cross our fingers, shall we? The phone calls have been coming in full force. There are pregnant women everywhere, and there is a serious doula shortage on the island. Better still, the closest hospital is an hour away but the only midwife on the island is nearby. Which means, yes people…I am going to be attending homebirths and birth center births. Galore. I couldn’t have planned it better. The fact that all of this has fallen into my lap so nicely cannot be a mere coincidence. My four day workshop on labor support starts in a few weeks, just as my Childbirth Preparation classes come to a close. Make way people. I’m coming through.

An update on my dog: I think she has issues. Psychological issues. For one, the perfectly housebroken dog of mine has now shat on the carpet thrice. (And each occasion there were numerous piles spread over a large area.) And this morning, I found the first pile of pee. I have no idea what her problem is. I take her out every 2 hours, and often she gets taken out in the middle of the night. I am a fanatic about taking her out. Dog poop and pee will not happen in my house. No way, kids. No way. I even take her spoiled little rump out for a long walk each morning because in the entire month that she’s lived with us, SHE WILL ONLY POOP ON HER WALKS. And still…accidents in the house. Double You Tee Eff???? Last night, I was sitting here at the computer and saw her out of the corner of my eye. She was sprinting around the couch in circles. I was alarmed because she never gets crazy in the house like that. I stood up, and that’s when I saw the multiple piles of nastiness. My first response of course is to say (loudly), “Are you fucking KIDDING me?!” I immediately felt terrible, because she cowered as if she expected me to give her a swift kick in the stomach.

There are other weird things about her too. Like the fact that she refuses to eat dog food. She refuses and refuses until I am sure that her stomach is eating itself, and she will give in to a tiny amount of kibble. She wants people food. Exclusively. We still have yet to indulge her. Again, not going to happen. No begging dog eating table scraps in my house. You’d think that I was giving her some cheap, cardboard kibble. But no–a tiny bag of the stuff we buy costs $17. It’s absolutely ridiculous. It’s even more ridiculous that after a month of being refused scraps, she is still begging with a vengeance. One time, I found her ON TOP OF MY DINING ROOM TABLE. She’s like 70 pounds. Tonight, she was up on the counter trying to eat a whole roasted chicken. My rage shot through the roof. I think I saw the whole world go white.

The next weird thing is her small dog complex. Actually, I don’t know if this is the correct terminology, but my point is–she thinks she’s a small dog. Perhaps a toy breed. This enormous dog of mine jumps into your lap while you’re sitting on the couch and squeezes herself into a curled up ball of fur as if she’s a freaking lap dog. She does the same thing in the car. She thinks she can fit into the tiniest of spaces. It’s completely absurd. She is also deathly afraid of other dogs. Even if the dog is something like a mini schnauzer. She runs away in terror. Why is this? She could eat that dog in one easy gulp. I think I need to see one of those pet communicators.

The last random bit of shite concerns my middle child, Pigpen. He’s having problems in school and on the bus. He’s getting sent to the counselor’s office. His schoolwork is slipping. He’s teasing people, socializing too much, not staying on task. His teacher wants to meet with me on Monday. An appointment with a pediatrician has been made, and I guarantee you an ADD diagnosis is on its way.

Also, the bedwetting/daywetting is getting worse. I can’t even remember the last time he didn’t have an accident during the day or night. It’s just…constant. He doesn’t tell anyone when he has an accident, so he sits all day in wet underwear and gets itchy rashes and stinks 24/7. I make him go before he gets on the bus. I bought an expensive watch with an alarm that goes off every few hours to remind him to use the restroom. I’ve tried giving out prizes and treats for staying dry. Nothing works. Currently, I am having him take a quick shower when I find him wet. He hates having to take all that time to clean up. And it’s at least keeping him clean and not-so-stinky. Tonight, I’ll wake him up in the middle of the night to pee. Which brings me to the next weird issue….

He’s peeing in his sleep. And not just while he’s lying in bed. Several times we have caught him trying to pee on the carpet in the hallway. As if he has made it halfway to the bathroom and thinks he’s reached his final destination. But today, as I cleaned out his closet, I uncovered something shocking. The closet was full of urine. The plastic set of drawers that hold his clothes held a lake of pee on top. The Darth Vader helmet held about a cup of pee inside of it. The books and toys shoved into the closet were soaking wet.
HOW IS THIS HAPPENING?!?! Anyway, I have cleaned and sterilized everything and washed my hands about 18 times. I’m feeling gross and my hands are dry and cracking.

Oh the life of a mother of three males.

Readers, listen up. Stop at the 2nd boy. Trust me on this one.

The good, the bad, the ugly

I can’t even fathom writing about a concentrated topic today, so you’re going to hear me continue to whine about my life. I imagine I’m probably losing a lot of readers. But at least my friends are still reading. You guys are….AREN’T YOU?! (Lol.)

The good news is, Animal has taken back to nursing. Whew! We co-slept, I decided to go topless and he found me in the night and nursed for a very, very long time. Now he’s back full force, nursing more than ever. (Probably trying to get the milk to come back.)

I also decided on my trip that I was going to do some detoxing from alcohol. It’s unbelievable how annoying your husband can be when he comes home from work drunk. I seriously cannot handle it now that I don’t have my 2nd glass of wine down the chute by 6PM.

To make matters worse, he pulled me into the bedroom as soon as he came home last night, and told me that he had a confession to make. “I can’t do it,” he said. “I’ve been smoking again.” He seemed rather proud of himself, considering that he has tried to quit on at least 20 occasions and each time he has started back up, he has hid it from me. He went on and on about how he didn’t want there to be secrets in our marriage and blah blah blah. I couldn’t stop staring at him in disbelief. We do NOT have the money for cigarettes. Especially with his drinking habit. There is no way. The money is not there. It does not exist. Secondly, it’s filthy and disgusting. I’m not into guys who smoke. Including my husband. That’s the way it is. He can kiss our practically non-existent sex life goodbye, that’s for sure.

In general, I just feel like I’m moving underwater. Everything is in slow motion, and takes so much effort. I’m so tired. I know that this is depression, to some extent. I’ve been there before, and although it was a long time ago, I’ll never forget the way it feels. Now I just have to figure out where it’s coming from. I hope that it’s from the Detox. In which case, it shouldn’t take long for me to bounce back. But I’m afraid that it may stem from the state my marriage is in. That, my friends, will take some time to sort out.