If You Can't Say Anything Nice...

I haven't been very diligent in posting to this lately and it's due to two main reasons. One, we've been very busy the past couple of weeks due to Stephen working so much or being out of town. Asher and I actually went with him on an overnight trip last week and had a really good time. This week I took a couple of days off while Stephen was out of state to stay home with Asher. I have to say, I thoroughly enjoyed my time with Asher Bug. We napped, went shopping, listened to PaPa toot his horn at Park Band...we had lots of good times. Spending time with him during the week further fueled my desire to be at home with him full time. Grandfather Day Care is wonderful, and I know Asher loves spending time there, but it kills me that when he's home during the weekends, I feel like I'm disrupting any sort of routine that's been established for him. Not to mention, only seeing him for an hour or so an evening before his bedtime is murder. Granted, I'm thrilled and extremely grateful that Joe has been so gracious to watch Asher for us - if Stephen nor I can stay at home with the baby, we want him to be with family. Unfortunately, I don't know how much longer this can last...Joe has a very bad knee and is needing to have surgery. I can't keep expecting him to put his health on hold so that he can accommodate us. If this had been just a week ago, I'd probably have been thrilled when Maryann called to see when they ought to schedule Joe's surgery because it would have meant I'd need to quit my job. Finally! An excuse! We'd agreed I'd keep working for as long as Joe wanted or was able to watch Asher. However...

Reason number two I haven't been posting much: the shit keeps hitting the fan.

This has been both the most joyous and the most stressful year of our lives. Asher, of course, is our highlight of the year - of our lifetimes. But all the transitioning into parenthood, the lack of money, the loss of our house...it's been nothing but chaos. Things were looking brighter the past couple of months, though. Stephen found a job he really likes, and I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, as far as work was concerned. We'd grown to view the loss of the house as a blessing in disguise, and have actually been looking forward to moving someplace else.

And it never, ever fails. As soon as you feel like your head is above water, something - or, more appropriately, someone - comes along and shoves you back under.

I won't go into details as it would be unwise to at this time - and you know it's difficult for the Queen of TMI to not go into details - but I'll just say that we just found out earlier this week that some very false and very ridiculous (read: laughable) accusations have been made about my husband that is jeopardizing both his job and his reputation. So, once again, everything is up in the air in our lives and we're just waiting, waiting, waiting for the next steps that need to be taken. And in the meantime, we've both been upset, a little depressed, disappointed, frustrated, scared, and angry at the whole mess. Those emotions don't make for very fun postings, so I have been sparing everyone from the drama.

Hopefully I'll be feeling in better spirits and will hop back on the blogging bandwagon soon, but if the number of postings seem few and far between you'll know it's just because the inside of my head is a pigsty right now.

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Separated!

Today, Stephen went to West Virginia for work and won't be back until Thursday night. Asher is spending the night at Grandfather Daycare. I'm at home with the kitties.

It is so weird - SO weird - being home by myself. I can't remember the last time I spent the night by myself. I think it's been at least a couple of years. How on earth am I going to sleep tonight? I have no idea.

I miss my boys like crazy. Asher, at least, will be home tomorrow evening. Poor Stephen is stuck in an almost-crappy hotel room by himself. At least, he'd better be by himself. We all know how Stephen is. Actually, his evening sounded like it was going to be pretty exciting. I think he was planning on ordering a steak dinner in, and cruising next door to K-Mart for some air freshener to de-stink his room that was a smoking room just a couple of months ago and to find some disinfectant spray for the sofa in the room.

Stephen, I came across this picture of The Boy - I think Jamie took it a few weeks ago - and thought it'd make you smile. I hope you have a good night, and I hope the bed bugs don't bite. Literally.

(I miss you.)

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Squawk & Walk

I was cleaning out my pictures and came across this video my sister recorded of Asher in his walker the first weekend he used it, about three weeks ago. He doesn't exactly "walk" much, but he does show off his best baby pterodactyl impression and, I must say, he's pretty darn good.

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Singing the Praises of Stephen

Asher wanted to write his daddy a letter to wish him a happy Father's Day, but pretty much the only words that came out of his mouth were, "Pshlurrrrrb aye aye aye GAK! Dwerdle glurb." I'll be honest - I really don't speak Baby very fluently, not even after studying it for the past few months nonstop. I began to write a letter for him, but we both decided that would come off as extremely cheesy. So, we'll wait until his vocabulary builds just a touch before we go having any posts directly from Asher on here. In the interim, I can speak on what a wonderful partner in parenting I have.

He's not afraid of baby poop. That, to me, is like the sexiest thing in all of the world. Screw good looks, intelligence, money, success...give me a man who isn't opposed to changing a few dirty diapers. He will stay up late to rock Asher to sleep so that I can go to bed. There were times in the early post-birth days in which I would call him while he was at work, an absolute wreck, and he would come home to give me relief and reassurance. He's been by my side from me puking during labor to the recovery period, when he had to not only help me to the toilet, but also help clean me up afterwards. He's comforted me during my depression, and laughed with me during all of Asher's peeing and pooping mishaps. He's made me feel pretty when I was hugely pregnant with Asher, when I was an unshowered, unkempt, flannel-pajamas-wearing wreck that month after I had Asher, and even now with my deflated boobs and unshaven legs. He's catered to my every need and suffered all my mood swings, and doesn't even demand sex from me. He's worked nonstop for us, and he's stayed home for us.

He truly is the glue that keeps us together, and we would fall apart without him.

Happy first Father's Day, Stephen. Despite all my nagging, complaints, and criticism, you honestly are the best father I could ever want for my child. I'm blessed to have you as my husband, and Asher is blessed to have you as his daddy. We love you so much, and I hope you realize how important you are, both to me and your little buddy.

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Boo!

You see that face? That's Asher's Boo Face. That's exactly how I feel right now.

Asher spent last night in Grandfather Day Care and, I'll admit, I freaked out a little at first. But I did alright. I missed him like crazy, but I survived and I grew. I learned I am capable of letting go of my reins for a little bit and trusting someone else to take over for me. I learned I will not self-combust if parted from my baby for a night. I learned Asher doesn't need me after all and is happier at Grandfather Day Care being doted on by people other than me. He doesn't even need my milk - Grandfather's yummy formula is just as satisfying. Boo.

So I survived one night without baby. Can I survive two?

I found out Stephen is working late tonight in Muncie again, and then may have to go back early in the morning tomorrow. Maryann called me (probably on behalf of Asher, the little turd) to see if I'd be interested in letting him spend another night with them. Well...NO! I'll have you know that Joe claims that Asher is now HIS little boy and that Asher said he doesn't care to have his "old" parents back. I just knew little old appleface man couldn't be trusted. I could have gone down and picked him up, I suppose, but, unfortunately, they live 45 minutes away from us, and by the time I'd get home from work, milk, drive down there in rush hour traffic, and drive back up, it'll be 8:00 or later. And then what? It'd be time for him to go to bed and, in the early morning, he'd just have to get up and go back down there again. Would it really be worth making him sit in the car all that time just so I would get to see him for a few minutes? It's worth it from my end of the stick, but I think it'd probably just be unnecessary disruption to his "routine." Not to mention, Stephen informed me some gas stations have raised prices up to $4.19 a gallon today.

I am so beyond ready to quit my job. I am so tired of having all this chaos. I need more stability. I need to provide more stability to my child. I feel like a bad mom, leaving him overnight for two nights with his grandparents because Stephen and I are working. I feel like I'm choosing my stupid job over him. I feel like I'm missing out on my child's life because of everything going on. For instance, we ran out of formula yesterday morning because we didn't know we were low. That's how little we're taking care of him.

It goes without saying, though, that we are INCREDIBLY lucky that Asher has such a wonderful Grandfather who is willing to go above and beyond to take care of Asher for us when we aren't able to. And, I think it's great that Joe actually wants (or seems to want, at least) to take care of Asher. I love it that they're bonding - I want my kids to be super close to their grandparents; that's very important to me.

Unfortunately, all this bonding time means time I have to give up with him and that just plain SUCKS for me. Of course, I won't lie - there is a certain amount of pleasure I feel about having FREEDOM back. If only I had money, I'd go shopping. If only I had the company of my husband, I'd go out to dinner. Ugh, no baby and I still have no fun.

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Separation Anxiety at a Record High

My separation anxiety, that is.

Stephen is doing some work in Muncie this week, and it's making our schedules (I use that term very loosely) crazy. Tomorrow he has to be there at 9:00 a.m., which makes getting Asher to Grandfather Day Care (think opposite directions from each other) a very tricky task. Luckily, Grandfather Day Care (read: my father-in-law) is extremely flexible and generous and willing to drive north to meet us more than halfway. In fact, Grandfather Day Care is so generous and committed to providing excellent customer service that it's willing (read: eager) to KEEP OUR BABY OVERNIGHT.

Grandfather Day Care, we greatly appreciate the lengths you're willing to go in order to make life easier on us full-time working parents. We are very blessed that Asher has such a caring environment in which to spend his daytime.

But nighttime, too?! You really shouldn't have - it's too much! No, seriously! I feel faintly sick to my stomach from the rush of emotions I'm having. Panicked! Sad! Free! Relieved! Sad! Free! Sad some more! Panicked about feeling relieved!

Do you realize this is the first time I will have been away from my baby for 24 hours? Actually, by tomorrow evening, it will have been 36 hours since I saw Asher last. That's 2160 minutes. That's doable, right?

Asher will be just fine, I know that much. And really, it's not like I get to see him for more than an hour or two an evening, anyway, during the week these days, so it shouldn't be too much of a shock on my system. Right? Tell me it'll be fine! It'll be fine, I'll be fine, he'll be fine, WE'LL ALL BE FINE AND WON'T HAVE PANIC ATTACKS. Not more than a couple, at least, I promise.

Yeah, what was that thing I mentioned in my last post about sounding like a clingy mom? Not me. No, not clingy at all. Not even an eensy bit.

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Hopefully Not Just a Fluke

I know this is going to make me sound like a clingy mom, but up until last night, Asher was still sleeping in our bedroom. We put him to sleep in his bassinet in our room (which I did bravely move away from the side of the bed after the first month), and he's good to go for a few hours, other than the few times we have to run in to put his buggy back in his mouth. Then, shortly after I go to sleep, I get tired of having to keep getting up to plug his mouth up, so I just drag his baby butt into bed with me. Ask Stephen - two adults and a baby do not sleep comfortably together in a queen size bed, especially when said baby likes to sleep perpendicular to said adults and also enjoys kicking and slapping in his sleep. Despite my baby's habit of flopping and flailing like a fish out of water during his sleep, I really enjoy snuggling up to him and giving him little kisses throughout the night. Stephen, on the other hand, cannot seem to appreciate sleeping on the very edge of the bed with his pillow hanging halfway off in the same position the entire night. He's so weird.

We originally decided Asher would sleep in our room for a couple of reasons. One, I was breastfeeding and it was so much easier when he'd wake in the middle of the night or first thing in the morning to just reach over and pluck him from his bassinet and feed him in bed. Big surprise that laziness was a factor, huh. Two, I felt more comfortable with him in the room with us - like I could somehow prevent bad things from happening to him if he was only ten feet away from me rather than in the next room. We decided, however, that once he outgrew his bassinet, we'd transfer him to his own room to sleep in his crib. Well, he sort of outgrew his bassinet about a month ago when he reached 15 pounds...I guess I've just been stalling to put him outside of my comfort zone. Not to mention the laziness factor again...who wants to walk clear to the next room in the middle of the night to replace a fallen pacifier?

For some reason, though, last night after I'd rocked him to a sufficient state of drowsiness, I just decided to take the plunge and plop him in his crib. The kid rolled over on his side, and we didn't hear a peep from him until 7:00 this morning when Buggy fell out of his mouth.

Let me emphasize that: Not one peep. Not even one! As in, he kept his mouth so closed that his pacifier remained in place ALL NIGHT LONG. Until 7:00 a.m.! I won't say how many times I woke up and went in to make sure he was still breathing because he was just THAT quiet. In fact, if it weren't for my worry, I'd have actually had a restful night's sleep because this was also the first night in I-don't-know-how-long that he hasn't ended up in bed with us.

We are keeping our fingers crossed and hoping and praying that the crib will bring many more pleasant, restful nights for both Asher and us. But, I do have the magical ability of constantly jinxing things when it comes to the baby, so don't be surprised if I'm posting about Baby Insomniac here in the next couple of days.

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Season Aversion?

It's incredibly hard to believe it's been a whopping year ago since we came out with the news about my pregnancy with Asher. Our lives have changed so much in the past year (so so so so SO SO SO, oh-so much), but it still seems like only yesterday that I was feeling the crippling grip of morning sickness, better described as all-day and all-night sickness. Of course, that could be because I'm feeling it ALL OVER AGAIN.

No, no, no, I'm not pregnant. This is even weirder than pregnancy. My sister-in-law had mentioned it to me last Fall, saying that she felt pangs of nausea just like she did the year prior when she was going through her pregnancy pukiness. I'd never heard of this before. And still to this day, I haven't read or heard anything about this in all of the hundreds of books, internet articles, e-mails, and conversations with other women I've had.

But wouldn't you know it? The weather has become disgustingly humid and hot (like it is every June in Indiana), and we've had to close up the house and turn on the air conditioner. The minute this all happened, I started getting pangs of nausea. It's the craziest thing! And not only is the weather making me want to barf, but certain smells that made me queasy last year are suddenly setting me off now, too.

It must be a psychological issue, one similar to taste aversion - where you eat something, get sick for whatever reason within a short period of time after eating it, and then you relate your feelings of sickness to that food to the point where just the thought or smell of that food can make you feel sick. You know, the way I can't even think about a chicken pot pie from Boston Market because I had it for dinner the first day that I started feeling nauseous last year. I could totally hurl from just writing about it. It's the only explanation there could be - the weather is just flooding me with precious memories from last year. Memories of me with my head in the toilet bowl. At least last year when I went through it, though, it was for a good cause - I don't know why the hell I want to continue tormenting myself with it this year.

I have been very reflective, though, about my pregnancy lately, and not just because of my lingering pseudo-morning sickness. Ever since Mother's Day, the day on which I found out I was pregnant last year, I've been fondly reminiscing about being pregnant. Actually, before I even had Asher I felt sad about the pregnancy ending. I loved the excitement that came with being pregnant; I loved how special I felt for getting to grow a person inside of me; I loved the bond I felt with the baby. And yes, true, there will probably be at least one more pregnancy in my future. And it will be special, too, but it's going to be a different kind of special. I realize this makes me sound selfish, but it's true - I have a kid now already, I've been Pregnant Kim before, it's old news, and I won't be treated quite the same as I was the first time around. It's like, the novelty of it will have been worn off. Not to mention there'll be a little rug rat I'll be chasing after while in the throes of vomiting and backaches. I'm afraid, too, I won't have the time or energy to cherish the subsequent pregnancies like I did with my first.

Who knew nausea could bring about such feelings of nostalgia?

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Bye Bye Aunt Jamie & Ella Bella

Jamie and Ella left this evening after spending six days with us caring for Asher while we worked. Asher will dearly miss gazing at his pretty aunt and curiously observing all the energy wrapped up in his cousin. I will dearly miss having two extra sets of hands helping me out and the company of Ella while I pump Asher's milk. Even if she does point and laugh at my "beeps."

Asher also wanted to thank Aunt Jamie for cleaning him up after his most destructive diaper ever yesterday. He says no one cleans up poop quite like his auntie.

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So Much for Date Night

My kind-hearted little sister has been cooped up in the house with me and Stephen for the past five days. She's witnessed my snapping, my frustration, my complaints, and my impatience toward Stephen. She's noted the whopping ten minutes we have to spend together daily. She even pointed out to me the other night that, hey, you guys didn't have sex last night - else, she would have heard us on the baby monitor.

She's seen the bruising of our marriage.

With Stephen currently working two jobs, and with me working full-time and then caring for Asher in the evenings, there simply isn't time for us anymore. For instance, as of right now, I haven't seen my husband since yesterday at 7:20 a.m. because he had to stay overnight in Evansville last night for work. Normally, I would be dying, just dying, from missing him. Sadly, though, it really hasn't felt any differently than any normal evening. That's how little time we've been spending together the past couple of weeks.

So lovely Jamie decided Stephen and I need to go out on a date and generously insisted on watching Asher tonight. I've been so excited about this. He and I have gone out once - ONCE - alone since Asher was born, and that was only like two weeks after Asher was born for about two hours, when Jamie was here the last time helping us out. We desperately need some time together, if nothing else, so I can remember what it's like to look at him without wanting to pull his hair out and he can remind himself that his wife is capable of looking like something other than a mental patient.

Because this post exists, you know date night hasn't happened. Instead, here I sit, posting to my lame-ass blog. Stephen's work took a little longer to do, and then on his way home he ran into some pretty bad storms and had to GO TO THE MALL to ride the storm out. Bastard. So he's not home, yet, and I'm hungry, cranky and tired, and to top it all off, it's storming outside.

It's a damn good thing I didn't waste my time shaving my legs this evening.

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A Childhood Fantasy Come True

Guess where I'm going to be on October 24. Just guess! Only at the sweetest concert ever, that's where! That's right, baby - I'm going to see NEW KIDS ON THE FREAKIN' BLOCK. And it's going to be so damn awesome.

I think I was in third grade when NKOTB first started becoming popular, and I was in love with them for a good three years or so. You know, until they sort of disappeared. That's a long time for a kid! My first love was Jordan...It's funny, I had a stuffed moose that I used to sleep with and every night I'd pray to God that he'd turn my moose into Jordan. Yeah. There would have been so many things wrong with that had he granted my wish. Then, towards the end of their popularity, I ditched Jordan for Joey. Mmmm....Joey. Once he finally hit puberty, he really had a nice voice.

I would have killed to have been able to go to one of their concerts when I was little. Alas, I was, like, EIGHT, so for some reason Mom would never let me go. Even though I had all their albums and day-glo t-shirts and scrunchies and Tiger Beat posters slathered all over my bedroom walls! Gosh, Mom, I was like their BIGGEST FAN and you wouldn't let me go support them and I just KNOW that's what was the cause of their downfall.

I am not ashamed to admit it, I am still a fan. I still know all the words to "Popsicle," and "Please Don't Go Girl" still makes me swoon.

As soon as my BFF Angie found out about the NKOTB reunion tour (don't call ME a dork - SHE'S the one on their mailing list), she fervently began her quest to obtain tickets. But wouldn't you know, the tickets sold out practically as soon as they went on sale. Besides that, tickets in the nosebleed section were over $100. Guess I'm not much of a fan, after all. There's no WAY in hell I'd pay that just for nostalgia's sake. Fortunately, with Angie's sweet texting skills, she WON tickets from a radio station the other day! And she wants me to be her date! We don't yet know where our seats are going to be, but I've got my hopes set for Joey's lap.

This concert is going to be so freakin' bad ass it's not even funny. I wish I hadn't gotten rid of my banana clips and day-glo t-shirts, though. To Jordan and Joey: It's too bad for you I'm married, 'cause I'm like totally legal now and stuff.

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Five Months Old

Asher turned five months old on Monday and let me say I'm so happy to be in this stage of babyhood. Just when I think Asher can't get any cuter, I swear he does. Just when I think I couldn't possibly love him any more, the next day my heart seems to swell for him even more. Just when I think this is my favorite stage, the next one comes along and is even better. And just when I think I'm getting the hang of things, Asher proves me so wrong.

It's been a month full of changes for Mr. Asher Bug. He's had to get used to having people other than Mommy and Daddy care for him during the day. So far, Laurie, Grandfather, and Aunt Jamie have been Godsends and taken turns babysitting Asher. Surprisingly (to me), he's taken to this change quite well; in fact, I think he's been thoroughly enjoying his time spent away from his parents. I had concerns that being juggled between different caregivers would be too much for him, but so far he's been in great spirits for everyone. I think it's been much more difficult on me, worrying about him, worrying about the person caring for him...worrying about EVERYTHING like I have the tendency to do.

Asher has also had big changes made to his diet this month. No longer does he feast on breastmilk alone...and no longer are his poopies non-toxic. So far, he eats rice cereal, pears, carrots, apples, sweet potatoes, and bananas. He seems to like all the foods, but bananas are definitely his favorite, with sweet potatoes a close second. All we have left in the cabinet that he hasn't tried are peaches, squash, peas, and prunes, and then I think he'll pretty much have mastered his 1st foods.

The biggest developmental gain he's made this month was rolling over. I just know it'll only be a short matter of time before he starts to creep - he's already working on an inchworm maneuver in which he gets on his tummy, sticks his butt way up in the air, and kicks his legs trying to move forward. He still has a lot of work to do on getting those arms to work together with his legs, so the top part of his body is kind of like a giant anchor right now. And that's OK with me; I have a feeling I'm going to miss it when the anchor is gone and I'm chasing him all over the place nonstop. He's also spending more time playing upright in his exersaucer and walker, putting those crazy jimmy legs of his to work.

Another talent he's discovered is the art of SQUEALING. When happy, SQUEAL! When angry, SQUEAL! When tired, SQUEAL! His language now primarily consists of squealing, squawking, whining, cooing, and the beloved crying. Yeah, the crying has even started to change, too. It's grown LOUDER and more obnoxious, especially when mixed with a good angry squeal. We really need to pick up a quart-sized bottle of Tylenol the next time we're at Costco.

This month he's also experiencing his first cold. Stephen and I have both been sick in the last few weeks, so we knew it was inevitable that he'd catch our crud. He seems to be feeling better, but is a little cranky and his cough asounds like he's been smoking a few too many cigarettes lately.

Here are his May pictures. All in all, its been a fun month. I'm excited to see what tricks Asher Bug has up his onesie for us in month six.

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King of Rolling Over

Asher just learned to roll over a couple of days ago. It was funny because once he figured it out, we couldn't keep him on his back. Unfortunately for him, he hates to be on his tummy. And once he'd roll over, he couldn't figure out how to roll back to his back. I lost track of the number of times I had to run upstairs after I put him to bed last night because he was crying because he'd flipped onto his tummy and couldn't get back on his back.

Today while I was at work, however, he mastered the skill of rolling over the other way for Aunt Jamie. I'm so happy he figured this out so quickly because it was sad how pleased he'd be with himself for flipping over, but then immediately would become frustrated at being "stuck." I am a little sad, however, that I missed seeing this...guess it's the first of my missing out on one of his "firsts." He is so entertained by this new skill; for ten minutes straight this evening he did nothing but roll over, back to front, front to back, back to front, front to back.

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The Dawning of Mobility: Part III

Last weekend, Nee Nee and Pa Pa were nice enough to let Asher take home Ella's old walker. We thought this might be a fun thing for him to have since he has a big case of the jimmy legs - his legs and feet are constantly in motion, even sometimes kicking while he's asleep. Right now he seems to only like it for about 10-15 minutes at a time, and that's primarily just because he likes to chew on the attached toys. It's pretty obvious he hasn't quite mastered it, yet. Although he can make it across the room by the time he starts throwing a tantrum, each step is sort of an accidental step and with each one he looks confused and surprised, as illustrated in the below picture. He's like, "What?! My feet can move my entire body?! WHO KNEW?!"

In other major news, HE ROLLED OVER for the first time last night from his back onto his tummy. And he hasn't stopped since then. It's making diaper changes very interesting.

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