Our household is in a whirlwind.

Halloween.

Moving.

Midterms.

The unbelievable amount of activities at Chase’s preschool.

Finding a new job.

Craziness I tell you! So here’s the dizzy on the skizzy.

 We are moving in 3 weeks. Hold me. I know it is the right move for us, but I don’t wannnnnnnna.

 Chase still loves loves loves school. There is nothing better in his little world than going to hang with his little friends. They had their Halloween parties and parade last Friday. I was slayed by cuteness. This whole preschool this is just.so.cute. Wait until ya’ll see his school pictures. For real. You will die.

Halloween was awesome, Chase and Jimmy were Super Whyy and Yoda.

They had an awesome time! They were so good out Trick or Treating and I am very much enjoying their candy

I have had a ton of interviews over the last 10 days or so. Both jobs are within my hospital’s network, so it would be a transfer for me. Good in the sense that I don’t lapse my benefits or anything, bad in that my current boss has some say over when I could start. I have two second interviews this week, wish me luck! Both are at amazing offices and I would take either of them in a heartbeat. No nights, no weekends, no holidays FTW!

Midterms. Eww. That’s all.

So yes. Busy we are, young Jedi. Hopefully things will settle after we move…but no…then it will be time for my favorite time of year CHRISTMAS. I don’t care what you say about it. I love it and IIIII’MMMM  NOOOOT LIIISSSTTEENNNIINNNGGG.

I wish I could bottle Chase up at this age and keep him forever.

I’m frustrated.

I’m 27 years old. I know, I know…I’m not old.

I feel stuck. I know in my head that we are making progress in our life. We are raising two beautiful boys to be amazing little men. They are my greatest accomplishment. I just can’t be happy with my greatest accomplishment being someone else. I just can’t. I had so many plans for where my life would be by the time I was 27.

They didn’t happen.

I never planned on having a baby at 24. I REALLY didn’t plan on having another baby at 25. I didn’t plan on deciding that drugs and fun were more important than my education at Villanova. I didn’t plan on screwing my credit up so badly that buying a house is going to be so hard. I didn’t plan on still living paycheck to paycheck. I didn’t plan on any of it.

So now I try and pick up the pieces. I fight the budget every month, trying to squeeze every last penny out of our income. I refuse to take away ALL the little luxuries…I am not waiting to live my life. I search the rules about mortgages, trying to see what needs to be done to get us out of the trap of renting. I estimate out tax return and decide what will go to pay off what.  I pour over my calendar, trying to squeeze over time shifts into an already insane schedule.

We will make progress. We will get into a home of our own. We will continue to raise our boys. I will graduate from college. I will maintain by 3.9GPA. I will get to where I want to be…and I will do it by 30.

The End.

GO PHILLIES

Hi!

I’m still alive. Sort of. I think anyway.

Things have been a little craaaazy around here.

Labor Day was fun. We as a family hung out on Sunday since I was working on Monday. The boys got plenty of time to run around outside at my inlaw’s house and they loved it.

Chase started Preschool. He loves it. Can’t get enough. He is SO angry on the days when he doesn’t go and it is such a relief to me that he has so much fun.

PS- Preschool teachers are saints. For realz.

School for me is….going. I changed my mind last minute and decided to only take 2 classes and holythankthesweetbabyjesus I am SO glad I did. I am overwhelmed with just the two, I can’t imagine a third. I’m doing well in both classes though…COME ON WINTER BREAK.

It is fall here in Southeastern PA. I turned the heat on today for the first time and listened to the heater rumbled to a start. I’m glad to be out of the intense heat of summer…but I am not ready to face winter quite yet.

The schedule fight at my job is still underway. FOUR months later they are still being completely rigid about my schedule while others get exactly what they ask for. It is making me a little stabby to say the least.

The thing of which I can not speak about should be resolved on the 18th of this month. Say some prayers for us.

We are moving in like 6 weeks. Damn. I don’t feel like it, but it is the right move and will allow us to buy a house within about 18 months. Well worth it.

That’s enough of my boring but hectic life as of yet. I’ll be back soon.

Promise.

PS- I HAVE TO GET ONE OF THESE!!!

Six years ago or so, when I was a young whippersnapper, I worked with a boy named Steve. He was a couple years younger than me and all the girls had a crush on him. He was blond, blue eyed and drove a BMW. He had the brightest smile you had ever seen, and went out of his way to make people laugh. He sang Billy Joel all day. He would stop and give you little shoulder rubs while you were rolling silverware. I think he was about 19.

Steve and I worked together for three years? Maybe four. He was always one of my favorites. There was just something about him, a spirit you couldn’t help but be drawn to. When he was 22 or so he came out, introduced us to his boyfriend and continued to be the happiest person I had ever met. Eventually he left our job and took another one in a near by town. I saw him randomly…I would see his car at WaWa and stop just to go in and say hi. He would stop in to see me at my job.

He gave the best hugs. Ever.

In March of 2009 I received a Facebook message telling me that Steve was dead. According to his obit he had passed at home after a short illness. Steve had issues with his pancreas, I’m not entirely sure what..but I know it had been a problem.

Steve has lingered with me. I have lost friends and family over the years…but I just can’t get Steve out of my head. I drive by the funeral home where his service was daily. I read his little brother’s Facebook status updates and my heart breaks. They are constructing a new restaurant in my town…the same one he was working at when he passed. I can’t figure out why he has affected me like this.

Is it because he was sick? The first of my friends to die young, but not because of a car accident or suicide? Maybe just the fact that someone who was so incredible and full of life is just….gone? It’s been almost a year and a half, and I still think of him daily.

Miss you Steve-a-rino. Big time.

                The hour that my husband gets home varies. Some days he breezes in at four in the afternoon; some days he stumbles through our door at eleven at night. There are days when he barely sees his children awake. There are days when he practically doesn’t see me awake. Despite his crazy schedule and hard work, one thing is clear. My children and I have better lives because of the sacrifices made by my husband.

                At night he lies in bed, his body aching. Fourteen hours a day on his feet is beginning to take a toll. In the darkness I see him flexing his hands, trying in vain to relieve the soreness that lies in the joints. I tell him about my day with the boys, trying to keep his mind off the discomfort. I fill the silence with stories of catching frogs, and playing in the sprinkler. I attempt to paint a picture of our day him, to show him what he missed while he was gone. I tell him about the rosemary chicken that I made for dinner, even though the smell lingers in the house. Eventually he gets up and I hear the sound of two Tylenol being shaken from their bottle. I hope they will ease him, and that sleep will come soon.

                He comes home from work annoyed most days. He doesn’t like his job, but knows it is just what must be done for now. We talk wistfully about a better economy, and how maybe one day he can quit. He runs his hands through his ever thinning hair and sighs. He knows he needs to provide for us and he does it willingly. He just wishes he had more options. He wishes he could be home with us on beautiful fall afternoons while we play outside. He wishes he hadn’t missed out preschooler’s first day of school. I try to reassure him and tell him there will be plenty of these moments, but it doesn’t help. I thank him for working so hard so that I can be with our children as much as I am. He just smiles and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

                Our three year old is sick. The babysitter calls me at work to tell him that he has gotten sick all over the house. I call my husband and I tell him he has to go home. He needs to go check on him, and to help the sitter clean up. I will be there as soon as I can, but I can’t leave yet. He doesn’t argue with me, he just goes. In less than ten minutes he is in our house with our children. I arrive less than an hour later and find a familiar scene. The mess is cleaned up and he is snuggling our children. I enter the bedroom and kiss the cheek of each of my three boys. He gives me a quick update and then returns to work. He never complains about the interruption of his shift, and not once arguing that I should have been the one to come home.

                  My children and I have better lives because of the sacrifices made by my husband. There are moments every day that we would not get to experience if he did not work as hard as he does. His willingness to do everything in his power to ensure that I get to spend as much time home with our children as I do is something I will always be thankful for. I am very blessed that I chose this man to raise children with, and even more blessed that he chose me.

I orignially wrote this for my english class, about 2 hours before being afflicted by the plague of a tummy virus that has taken over my house. I love writing desciptive essays.  My teacher loved it, and I thought I would share.

PS- I got an A. heehee.

** DISCLAIMER ** If you don’t want to read about my lady bits, turn that shizz around. Consider yourself warned.

 

Jimmy was a birth control baby.

I was religiously taking Y*z when he was conceived. Every morning. At 10am. I had a 9 month old at the time, and NO intention of getting pregnant for at least another year.

Sigh. Doncha love how things work out?

After Jimmy was born, I had to think long and hard about what kind of preventive measures I wanted to take. Condoms are always an option…but a drag. What’s the point of being all married and monogamous and stuff if you still have to suit up? Silly.

I decided to do with an IUD. Not the Mir*ena, which I had heard caused some weight gain (HELL NO), but the non hormonal copper IUD that could stay in for up until 10 years. My insurance would cover it in full (HELL YES) so why not? I dutifully did my research and off to my 6 week postpartum appointment I went to check on my 2 stitches and have that little T shaped baby preventer inserted.

Insertion didn’t suck, but I wouldn’t say it was better than eating Rocky Road ice cream either. After almost 30 hours of labor 6 weeks earlier it was a walk in the park.

My periods got heavier, crampier and longer. Suck, but they had been super easy and light to start with, so I sort of assumed they were just normalnow. Then about 14 months after insertion sex started to hurt. Like HURT. I started bleeding almost every time we had sex. My cramps during my cycle were horrendous. My thighs would ache and all the joints in my legs would scream during my period. The week before my period I developed contact dermatitis on my lips. Super unfreakingcomfortable.

Finally I got fed up and I went to my OBGYN this last Monday. He removed my IUD and started me back on the pill. He told me that I was showing signs of a copper allergy (WORST LUCK EVER? THIS GIRL) He told me that my anatomy is just not great for an IUD, something about the way I am shaped and yada yada yada…at that point all I could think was :

OHMAHGODICANTGOONTHEPILLIAMGOINGTOGETPREGNANTANDIJUSTCANTHANDLETHISSHIZZ.

My internal dialogue was not in a good place.

So I am on the pill now.

I am scared shitless.

I want another baby…but not anything soon.

Wish me mother loving luck. Imma need it.