So, this was supposed to be a blog about Olin and the chronicle of his new life. Well, that didn't happen! Oopsie. I like to think that I have all the time in the world that I used too, but I really don't. And unlike my lovely sister, after being on the computer for 8 hrs (sometimes longer) at work, the last thing I wanna do when I get home is sit in front of the computer.
So Olin is now 4 mos away from turning 2 yrs old. His first birthday came and went. We kept it simple. It was only about 30 guests, all family. We served fettuccine Alfredo and other finger foods that people brought. Olin was oblivious to what the occasion was and all he cared about was Mickey Mouse. He enjoyed the cake and ran around until he couldn’t anymore. After he went to sleep the adults stayed up, just as any typical “Hispanic” family. Kid’s party by day, adult’s party by night.
The first year has been interesting. I’m learning how to be a Mommy. Some things come natural, it’s that mother instinct everyone talks about I guess. But there are challenges. I as I’ve mentioned before, wasn’t exactly the person anyone expected to have kids. I was selfish and concerned only about me and what I had to do to get by. I could wander from friend’s house to friend’s house w/o a care in the world. I lived with extra clothes in my car in case I stayed anywhere and needed it, now I have toys, sippy cups, and extra clothes for Olin all over the place. My overnight bag consist of extra what nots for him. Ah, how life changes.
I’ve faced plenty of challenges in this first year. And it’s only been a year!! The main challenge I’ve had is patience. I don’t have any! And with kids, that is the MAIN ingredient. The sleepless nights, the colds, the fussiness, the fits … they can all become TOO much if you aren’t patient. I love my little man more than life itself, but not being able to be patient with him only frustrates both him and me more. It’s just not good. So how do I deal? Sometimes I don’t and as he yells, I yell back. NOT GOOD!! I don’t mean it and after the fact I feel like the biggest pile of dog $--- ever. And because of that sometimes I feel like God really didn’t make me up for this. I just see other moms and think goodness; I shouldn’t and will never be what they are. There are just moms who do it all. Cook, clean, wash, shop, PTA, soccer practice, homework, projects, knit, yoga, and then some … I just don’t know where they find the energy. I work an 8 hr day and sit in traffic about 4 hrs a day; by the time I reach home I am ready to end the day!
My second challenge this year, how do you become a good Mom and Wife? Because even though my relationship has been off and on from the beginning, the biggest challenge for it after Olin has been balancing a baby and a relationship. Sharing time and attention with two boys can be a huge mess. Sometimes I sit and think, I love my son more than I do any relationship I’ll ever have so focus on him, but that’s just not a good way to look at it if I really want our family to be whole. Our relationship issues shouldn’t be part of raising our son, but they do become it sometimes. Olin sees/hears our fights. He knows when there’s anger in our voices and he knows when there’s sadness in our hearts. Rafa’s said this time and time again; especially recently, WE have to be happy in order to make HIM happy. And when he says WE it’s as in with each other and with ourselves.
I’ve lost a lot of me in the midst of the past 2 ½ years. I am trying to work on all that to be who I need to be for my family; otherwise, I could lose it all. As I rebuild myself, hopefully I can continue to share with everyone and even get some advice from those “wonder woman Moms” out there who have everything “under control!”
Until next time…
Thursday, September 8, 2011
{Jess ♥}
I wrote this entry for my sister's blog, as a "guest blogger." ... If you ask me she's got TOO much time on her hands, and I don't know how with a house, husband, and two kids! lol Love her though. She's my Wonder Woman. LOB HER! ...
Jesykah.
I am a paralegal for the “Texas Hammer.” Question of the day: “is he really the hammer??” Geez, I don’t know. You tell me b/c all I hear all day are complaints from clients who don’t think we’re doing enough to rebuild their broken lives! … Call me harsh, call me rude, call me a B. Sorry but life ain’t easy and if it were meant to be then we’d all be perfect like Jesus! … Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I love my son. I love my sister. I love my mom. I love my family. I love law. And I love me!
But most of all I LOVE my son!
Weird to hear those words come out of my mouth because here is how my story goes … I was living the “good life” as any accomplished 25 yr old girl does. I had no worries: Paid my own bills, Graduated from UH with a BA in Psychology (which I can do nothing with! But I have a degree!!), and did my own thing partying and concerned only about MYSELF. I had no real desire to live the fairy tale life of finding prince charming, getting married, having kids and living happily ever after. I went on crazy shopping sprees, clubbed, and drank like alcohol was the only thing keeping me alive. I had just moved out of my parents’ house and was living the life. I was the girl who “didn’t like kids.” Not that they aren’t cute and cuddly, but once the crying and fussing began I was more than willing to hand them back to their mommy and daddy and go about my way. So the thought of having my own crying and fussing to deal with was the last thing I wanted.
Then the rain came down on my parade (don’t get me wrong, I make it sound like a horrible tragedy, but keep reading) and at 25 ½ yrs old I took about a million tests hoping to God that I was just drunk beyond belief and seeing things! But no, it was confirmed. I was pregnant. So was he planned?? HECK NO! Not at all, especially when not only was I NOT ready to be a mommy BUT the boyfriend was a 21 yr old, who had been unemployed for mos w/o any hope that he would find a job soon, and I was handling EVERYTHING on my own. To say the least, we FREAKED. Kept it hush for as long as we could after finding out going through all our “options.” But I was nearly ready to pop by the time everything was said and done. So we just threw our hands up and said okay.
I got through the last couple of months of the pregnancy fairly well. All I could do was pray that since I hadn’t had ALL the prenatal care I should’ve, the baby come out perfect. I didn’t show until about mo 7. I weighed 126 lbs at 37 weeks. Cravings, gas, heartburn, nausea, and all of the above were nonexistent to me. So it was nothing like I had expected. TV and movies make it such a DRAMA scene. Nope. I worked up until the before the little man arrived. If I haven’t already totally just made you cringe with the nearly nonexistent pregnancy then you’re gonna wanna run me over after I tell you that all I heard the day of the delivery was, “you make it look so easy.” But no one was in my shoes!! Some of those contractions made me wanna punch someone in the crotch! But I went into the hospital about 10:30 am. Checked in at 11 am, had my epidural at 12 pm, and Olin was in our arms by 5:04 pm on January 29, 2010.
The first year has been a ride. Olin’s made my life so much more interesting and worth living for. His stinky breath in my face at 7 am every morning is something I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. He makes my heart whole. I don’t know the first thing about being a Mom, but he’s teaching me as I go. If there’s anyone I will do the IMPOSSIBLE for, it’s him. To see his face light up when he discovers something “new” it fills my heart with joy. Teaching him about the world and watching him explore and learn can’t top anything I thought my life would bring. It’s all about Olin now. And as long as he’s healthy and well, there’s nothing more I need for myself!
Jesykah.
I am a paralegal for the “Texas Hammer.” Question of the day: “is he really the hammer??” Geez, I don’t know. You tell me b/c all I hear all day are complaints from clients who don’t think we’re doing enough to rebuild their broken lives! … Call me harsh, call me rude, call me a B. Sorry but life ain’t easy and if it were meant to be then we’d all be perfect like Jesus! … Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I love my son. I love my sister. I love my mom. I love my family. I love law. And I love me!
But most of all I LOVE my son!
Weird to hear those words come out of my mouth because here is how my story goes … I was living the “good life” as any accomplished 25 yr old girl does. I had no worries: Paid my own bills, Graduated from UH with a BA in Psychology (which I can do nothing with! But I have a degree!!), and did my own thing partying and concerned only about MYSELF. I had no real desire to live the fairy tale life of finding prince charming, getting married, having kids and living happily ever after. I went on crazy shopping sprees, clubbed, and drank like alcohol was the only thing keeping me alive. I had just moved out of my parents’ house and was living the life. I was the girl who “didn’t like kids.” Not that they aren’t cute and cuddly, but once the crying and fussing began I was more than willing to hand them back to their mommy and daddy and go about my way. So the thought of having my own crying and fussing to deal with was the last thing I wanted.
Then the rain came down on my parade (don’t get me wrong, I make it sound like a horrible tragedy, but keep reading) and at 25 ½ yrs old I took about a million tests hoping to God that I was just drunk beyond belief and seeing things! But no, it was confirmed. I was pregnant. So was he planned?? HECK NO! Not at all, especially when not only was I NOT ready to be a mommy BUT the boyfriend was a 21 yr old, who had been unemployed for mos w/o any hope that he would find a job soon, and I was handling EVERYTHING on my own. To say the least, we FREAKED. Kept it hush for as long as we could after finding out going through all our “options.” But I was nearly ready to pop by the time everything was said and done. So we just threw our hands up and said okay.
I got through the last couple of months of the pregnancy fairly well. All I could do was pray that since I hadn’t had ALL the prenatal care I should’ve, the baby come out perfect. I didn’t show until about mo 7. I weighed 126 lbs at 37 weeks. Cravings, gas, heartburn, nausea, and all of the above were nonexistent to me. So it was nothing like I had expected. TV and movies make it such a DRAMA scene. Nope. I worked up until the before the little man arrived. If I haven’t already totally just made you cringe with the nearly nonexistent pregnancy then you’re gonna wanna run me over after I tell you that all I heard the day of the delivery was, “you make it look so easy.” But no one was in my shoes!! Some of those contractions made me wanna punch someone in the crotch! But I went into the hospital about 10:30 am. Checked in at 11 am, had my epidural at 12 pm, and Olin was in our arms by 5:04 pm on January 29, 2010.
The first year has been a ride. Olin’s made my life so much more interesting and worth living for. His stinky breath in my face at 7 am every morning is something I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. He makes my heart whole. I don’t know the first thing about being a Mom, but he’s teaching me as I go. If there’s anyone I will do the IMPOSSIBLE for, it’s him. To see his face light up when he discovers something “new” it fills my heart with joy. Teaching him about the world and watching him explore and learn can’t top anything I thought my life would bring. It’s all about Olin now. And as long as he’s healthy and well, there’s nothing more I need for myself!
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