Let Me Clarify

So, I think that I might have portrayed myself as slightly agitated last week.  You post one little list of things that suck and before you know it, your friends are afraid to answer your calls, your sister won't look you in the eye, and your husband is planning an Anger Intervention. 

Yes, I might have been having a rough week, but I didn't mean to come off as an outraged, bitter hag.  And I'm afraid that people are going to caese inviting me to their homes for fear that I'll judge their clutter.  Fear not, friends, I am not judging your clutter.  I didn't write that list about your clutter.   I wrote it about the clutter of strangers.  Honestly, I apologize for judging and for admitting that I judge and if I could take one thing off the list it would be the sentence about how I'm judging your clutter.  I'm not.  Believe me.  For real.  I'm too busy sneaking a glance in your medicine cabinet.  See!  Not seeing your clutter!  Seeing your Advil!

But, I think the one thing that I mentioned on the list that struck a chord with most people was, well, it was obviously the one that spoke of my hatred of John Lithgow.

hehe.

No, it was the one about having another child.  Listen, asking me and Greg if we want more children is fine.  Questioning us on if we are thinking of having other kids is acceptable.  Telling us how life changed when you went from one to two, or four to five or whatever, is cool.  Giving advice on how you think having more than one child is beneficial is a-ok.

Telling me that I am wrong when I say I have one child right now and that's how I like it is unacceptable.  And I shouldn't have to apologize for that. 

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Brought To You By Coffee

Sometimes having kids feels like doing time for a crime you didn't commit.  I mean, yes, technically, with regards to Leah, I did "commit the crime."  I mean, we wanted her, and she's here due to us.  But, there are times when taking care of her seems really exhaustive and heavy and just plain tough.

I was talking to a co worker who is child-free, by choice.  He spent the weekend babysitting his 5 year-old neice, and today, Wednesday, he's still recuperating from the weekend.  He just doesn't understand how people can do this day in and day out, like deal with kids, all the time.  And, he's right.  I don't know how I do it.

We spend a lot of time in the car.  And Leah must talk, question, comment, and narrate the entire time she's in the car.  There's a lot of "Look, Mommy"s too.  It's non-stop.  When I pick her up from my sister's house on Wednesdays and am in the thick of a 45-minute commute in rush hour traffic after working for 9 straight hours, the last thing I want to do is "Look at my knee, Mommy!  Look at my sock!  Oh, man!  There's a bus!"  And if she doesn't get a reaction she will keep going, louder and louder, until she does.  So, we have a conversation for the duration of the entire ride.  Every ride.  Every day. 

Now, I don't want you all to think that I'm complaining about parenthood, because I'm not.  Much.  I knew it would be tough and challenging.  Not as tough and challenging as it actually is, but still, I had an idea.  What I'm saying is that despite the challenges, we still do it.  We still have kids.  We still run ourselves ragged taking care of them and tending to their needs.  We still think about them and worry about them.  We kiss, hug, cuddle, and snuggle them.   We love them to pieces.  More than we ever thought possible.  It's worth it.  It must be, right?

Despite being woken up at 5 a.m. this morning to the words, "I want pancakes now!" I never regret the day Greg and I decided to become parents.  I can't even remember life without Cha Cha.  And I don't want to...because I was probably well rested and energetic and richer.  And, really, who wants to think about that?

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Party of Three

Everyone always asks me when I am having a second child.  And the answer is "Not now."  Or, "Not yet."  Or, sometimes, "Not ever."  And as hard as those answers are for people to hear, it's not that difficult for me to say.

I'm not ready for a second child, for a myriad of reasons, but mostly because I'm content with my family right now.  Or, I should say, the number of people in my family right now.  Women have told me that until they had their second (third, fourth, herd), they felt incomplete.  They knew their family wasn't done.  But, me?  I don't feel that way. 

Occassionally, I think of having a second child so that Leah wouldn't have to go through life alone.  If we are being honest, I really think about having a second so that if anything happens to me, or Greg, or both of us, Leah has someone else to go through it with.  I am grateful for my sister when my mom died and do not know how I would have made it through if I had to have done it alone.

But that is not a good enough reason.  That's unfair to a potential child of mine.  "Oh, I had you so that if I died Leah could lean on you for support."  Jeez, that sounds horrible!

I owe it to any future children to want and desire them.  I owe it to myself and my husband to wait until we feel that desire to expand our family.  So, for now, we are party of three.  And, it's just fine by us.

Dana, Greg, and Leah

Pat, Enzo, and Dana

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Dear Mom...

Leah turned two last week, and we had a small family party for her over the weekend.  You were definately missed, but I have to admit it's getting easier to handle parties and holidays.  Soon after you died, get-togethers were difficult.  We found ourselves just standing there staring at each other physically missing the void you left. 

When it would come time to clear the table, we'd still wait for your direction on who should do what.  When it came time to make the coffee, we'd forget that you were no longer there and someone had to pick up the slack. 

And pick up the slack is what we've done.

Daddy is now the only parent we have, and he must do the job of mom and dad.  He is the only grandparent of Leah's that lives in NJ, so he must fill those shoes, too.

Adriana and I now take care of making sure the table is set, the food is served, the dishes are washed, and the coffee is served.  Gone are the days of being waited on; we now automatically make sure it happens.

And Marco?  You'll be happy to know that he is still the impatient, lazy PITA that he was when you were here.  How proud you must be!

So, I hope this doesn't upset you, Ma, but we are doing a lot better when we are all together.  It's no longer a pity party, where we all feel bad for ourselves and are reminded at every turn that you are no longer here. 

We've picked up the pieces, and, although we drop a few occasionally, we are managing.  And we are doing well.  Very well. 



SO WELL, THAT YOU'RE GOING TO BE A GRANDMOTHER AGAIN! MARCO IS HAVING A BABY!

So, there, internet.  That is my news.  You can re-direct your "Congratulations on the new baby" cards from me to Marco.  Unless the card states, "Congratulations on the new baby, AUNT DANA."






















Mom and Dad-2007.

Haha, totally kidding. It was the 70's, as if you couldn't tell.
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News

I got some news tonight, and I'm not ready to share it just yet, but it's something that would have made my mom really happy.  I had a hard time hearing the news, because my mom is not here to hear it, and I keep going through this bi-polar craze where I am happy for the news one minute and then devastated because my mom's not here to share it the next. 

I have a feeling that this is how good news is going to feel for a long time.  Or at least for a while.  Until it no longer feels this way.  Which I wish would come soon, but then that means that I am somehow forgetting my mom, and I don't want that to happen...so I'm thankful that good news makes me sad?  But that doesn't sound right.  So, clearly I'm confused.

If I am lucky to live to be 62, then I will have not had my mom in my life for as long as I did have her.  My sister has to only live to be 50 for that to occur for her. 

Today is emotional day.  1) The news, 2) Two years ago today my contractions began (more on that tomorrow) and 3) There are days where I don't do well.  I'm just gonna lay my cards on the table and be honest with you all.  There are days where I think about my mom, myself, my life, my job, my home, my everything, and the bad seems to outweigh the good. 

Even when I hear good news.
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Becoming Parents...

You often hear that a woman becomes a mother the second she finds out she's pregant.  And this makes sense, since many women are forced to change their lives immediately once they find out they are pregnant.  Suddenly, everything that goes into your mouth must be discussed, scrutinized, and then analyzed for this mercury content. 

There are also the added benefits of morning sickness, constipation, heartburn, fatigue, insomnia (I know--fatique and insomnia at the same time--just how does pregnancy do it!) and headaches.  Added to the fact that, at about the same time that the sperm reaches the egg, you will need to urinate every thirty seconds or so, give or take a second, UNTIL THE BABY MAKES ITS DEBUT.  Do you know what it's like to need a bathroom within earshot for 40 weeks? 280 days? 6,720 hours?  My local grocery store practically commemorated a stall for me in its bathroom facilities since I couldn't get through my weekly shopping trip without making a pit stop at least twice.

I had returned from my honeymoon in mid July of 2007.  The dogs had spent two weeks in our house with a twice daily visit from a pet sitter.  The house was not smelling its best upon our return, and I spent a good two days cleaning and desanitizing in hopes of eliminating that horrible smell that appeared to be eminating from every crevice in the house.  Several days later, the smell was still present.

I remember talking to Greg about it and explaining that we needed to move.   That didn't go over well.  He didn't smell anything out of the ordinary, but this is a person who will add more garbage to the already over-flowing pail and step over a dirty sock on the floor before he would actually do anything to eliminate these issues.  So, sorry to say, but his opinion? Did not matter.  This house was stinky!

I was talking to my friend Catherine on the phone a few days later and, because I was now obsessed with this smell, we got to discussing the alarming state of my home.  I might have also mentioned how I was waiting for a certain something to make its monthly arrival but it was taking its sweet time.  She asked me a few other, ahem, personal questions, and suggested that I take a pregnancy test.  Lo and behold, I was pregnant.  Like any sane human being, I spent the next four hours googling everything related to pregnancy.  And, to my surprise, a heightened sense of smell was one of the symptoms.  Go figure.

I proceeded to head to Target and purchase several more tests.  I took one in the Target bathroom (classy) and a few back at home.  I placed a couple of them up in a watch box and put a bow on them.  Greg loves watches, and I thought it would be oh so funny to give him a watch box as a present.  Only for him to see that it wasn't in fact a watch he was getting, but, instead a moody, irritable, opinionated wife for nine months!  Followed by a moody, irritable, opininated baby! Forever!  Oh, how fun it was going to be!

When he returned home, I handed him the box, and told him that I had gotten something for him while out shopping.  I am just the wittiest person!  Right?

He didn't know what they were at first.  Or, maybe, he was hoping they weren't what he thought.  Either way, he was pretty surprised.  We really weren't expecting a child to come so soon, so this was a shock.  We were super scared about how our lives would change, but we were really excited too.

A couple of days later we told Greg's parents while at a wedding in North Carolina.   We told my parents back at their home when we stopped there on our way home from the airport.  My mother cried.  Of course!  She was so happy.  The presents for her future first grandchild began coming immediately.

A few weeks later I was driving in my car, and it hit me.  I was going to be a mother.  There was something growing inside me that was going to be a baby.  My baby.  It really surprised me, and I started crying.  I don't think I realized what was really happening until that moment.