Sleep Deprived Moms

Stay-at-home Mom’s are very rarely ever appreciated. Don’t get me wrong, I love spending my days with my Son, watching him grow into the amazing little man that he is, but sometimes I feel like I am going crazy.

When I go out, my Son goes everywhere with me. Most of my close friends do not have children, and the few that do, our schedules do not allow us to get together.

Many nights I spend getting only 2-3 hours of sleep. When my son wakes up and has to go to the bathroom, or when he has a nightmare and cries, I get up with him every single time.

I have a confession to Make. I am jealous of my Husband and quite honestly depressed. He works 8-1 6 hrs. a day, comes home and gets 6-8 hrs of sleep. I honestly cannot remember a night in which I have gotten 3 hours. The other night I was so tired, I put the ice cream in the refrigerator, and then two days ago I fell down the stairs. It does not help that I have a vestibular disorder that gets continually worse with sleep deprivation.

When My husband wants to go hang out with his friends, I let him, and I know he works hard. But it is not reciprocal, I can count the number of times my Husband has offered to watch our son on one hand. I just feel like I can’t catch a break. The only time I get for myself is between 1:30 and 2 a.m. and even that is interrupted since our Son is a light sleeper like I am.

I guess I feel like what I do doesn’t matter. All I ask is 1-2 hours of uninterrupted time to dedicate to my work, which is writing. I’m tired, and depressed. So the little time that I could be sleeping, is spent writing because I have no choice. During the day, as I am tying to write I have a toddler that keeps trying to help me write, and is scribbling all over my manuscript. I guess I am hoping I am not alone in feeling this way.

Being a stay-at-home mom is hard work.Writing is work too. I don’t think anyone understands that. It is something I have to do so I don’t lose my Mind, because only getting 6 hours of sleep the last three nights has been pure torture.

If only I could sleep like a husband!

 

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Season of Miracles

Last night my Mother-in-law, Father-in-law, My Husband and I, as well as our son, went to see the Christmas light show in Cambridge Ohio, at the court.

Our son giggled with glee and pointed to the lights as he kicked his legs and bobbed his head. “Look Dat!” He said and pointed every time someone passed us on the sidewalk.

Tears began streaming down his face. It could have been just because he was cold however, he was dressed warmly. I began to wonder if he felt the same way I did two years previously when he was just a seed my tummy.

My boyfriend and I were sitting there in church at the Christmas mass and silent night was being sung. I started to cry as I thought about my Christmas miracle stirring inside of me. I finally got it! The Christmas story is everyone’s story.

I looked at my boyfriend. I felt what I believed was the first flutter of life moving inside of me. I looked at him and said, “I know It’s a boy and we will call him Noah.” I was pregnant and unmarried at the time. People judged me because of this. They didn’t know my boyfriend and I, who later became my Husband. Personally I didn’t care. This was our Christmas miracle

As Noah cried, the memories came back. I remembered that night in church. I cried because our Child was a promise. The promise of a Christmas miracle. Two Christmas before that, we were trying to grapple with the news that I would never have a child. Yet here he is. He must have felt what I felt. Joy and beauty that he was a miracle. My son changed our lives.

I felt what Mary must have felt all those years ago. Happiness that God had blessed her with a beautiful baby boy. She also felt sadness because of those that judged her, because she was an unwed mother.

Noah understands this is the season of miracles. It was also this season of miracles that brought my husband and I together. It was at a Christmas time we
really connected. It was because of Christmas our son is here today.

The Christmas story is everyone’s story. With great pain is great joy. Without pain, there would be no hope. Happiness would cease to exist.

This is the season of miracles. Yours is right around the corner. Never give up hope.

My Musical Life

This week was a good week for my Son and Family. It brought back many memories.

My Dad is a Music Director at a local Catholic Church. They have a chicken dinner every year to raise money for the parish. My Dad plays the organ for people who are coming to see the church. After I got out of work, my Mother and I took my Son up to the church so he could listen to Grandpa play the organ.

My Son can never sit still very long. I had him in a sling as I walked up and down the aisle. He got excited as we bounced and walked, listening to the music. He began clapping his hands.

I was then reminded what an impact music has had on my life. My parents first met at church. My Mother was filling in for the choir director, my Dad for the organist. My Mother was very weak because she had just had surgery on her appendix.  She needed help getting up to direct the choir because she had stitches in her side. My Dad was the person that helped her. To make a long story a little bit shorter, here is the kicker… they have been together ever since. If it was not for music I would not be here.

My parents continued this tradition for quite some time. When I was small, probably even younger than my Son… my Mother would place my car seat on the organ or piano during choir practice. Because of this I had a great appreciation and love of music. When I was my Sons age I remember wanting to be like my Daddy. I in my diaper, complete with a tie around my neck… sat on the piano bench at home. Just like Daddy, I played the piano. Matching my voice to the tone of the note as I played.

Then when I was two, I knew the instrument of my choice was going to be the violin. I loved it! My arm would not reach around the neck of the violin so I had to wait until it did. The music store that my mother taught at did not have a size small enough for a two-year old. So finally when I was three. I got to play the instrument I always dreamed of. The violin.

I continued to have a love of music and throughout my Youth I played many musical instruments. Violin, Piano, Clarinet, saxophone, Trumpet, and my latest endeavor, the ukulele. I hope it is a tradition I can pass along to my son. A love of music.

If it was not for music, my son would not be here today. It was love of music that brought my husband and I together. I met my husband at work. One of the first times we hung out, we were at a party one of our coworkers had. There we were. He was playing Guitar and singing and I was singing the harmony.

On another Date, we were at a bar in Wellington, Ohio that had a piano. We were playing the piano at the bar and taking requests to play classic rock songs.

Our Son loves it when Daddy plays Guitar. He loves strumming the strings of his guitar and could since he was about five months old. Our Son is nearly 11 months old now.

We took our Son to two Jim Gill Concerts this week. One in Brunswick, Ohio and one in Valley City, Ohio. For those of you who do not know who Jim Gill is, He is a very talented musician with a good sense of humor. He has a musical life too. He writes his own music and weaves beautiful stories into his music. He is a local musician here in the Ohio area.

The first concert we arrived there early. We got the opportunity to talk to this very humble musician. He even allowed my husband to try out his guitar. Noah loved the music. He started clapping and jumping up and down and then got fussy the last part of the concert.

Noah got fussy at the second concert when he heard Jim play “Yesterday” by the Beatles.  It is this song that Daddy plays for him. Daddy’s at work right now and Noah starts screaming “Dada!” At least Grammie and Grampy got to go!

Here I am reminded that music without music I would not be here. My husband and I probably would not be married, and our Son would never have been born. I hope we can continue the tradition of sharing music and enjoying it in our family.

Laughs, Giggles and Playtime!

My husband was getting ready to leave for work tonight. My son looks at him and pulls at his scrub top, and he begins to giggle and squeal. I don’t think he wants Daddy to leave. I don’t either.

I look at my Husband. This man who works many sixteen hour days. A man I love and have great respect and tenderness for. I wish he would be able to work less and spend more time with us. He is doing what he can to provide for his family. It is also a reminder of why I must write.
He encourages me, and reads everything I write. My Husband is my biggest fan. (I call him my editor, because he reads over my shoulder and makes me aware of what needs to be revised.) I hope someday I will be able to make enough money from one of my books. Enough so we can have more laughing, giggling, and more playtime as a family. I write out of love.

Rebirth

  When I look at my son, I see such promise and hope. I understand why Jesus said we should all be like children.

My son trusts others completely. He has not learned what it’s like for someone to break his trust. He loves others with every fiber of his being. He has not learned what it is like for someone to crush his heart and soul. He lives fearlessly. He is learning to walk. He sometimes falls down. He always gets back up like nothing happened and continues to laugh and smile as he pulls himself up, and he tries again, and again.

In my eyes he is perfect. He is a spitting image of the creator. Uninhibited. Un-fearful. He is love.

He reminds me of what is wrong with the world. We forget to be children. We forget to love with a complete love. To be completely uninhibited. To get back up if we fail. If life knocks us on our ass, not to give up. Try… and then, try again. If more people saw the world through the eyes of a child, there would be no war. Just love and hope. That is the secret of life.

I look at my sweet baby boy, as I stroke his hair and he smiles. He is the reason I will never give up. He is the reason I am reminded to see the world through the eyes of a child. He gives me life. I am made complete and I am reborn through the eyes of a child. He smiles in his sleep. I kiss his forehead and tell him what a miracle he is. That he was the one that gave birth to me.

A Mutual Understanding


This weekend I was reminded how every living creature is intelligent in their own way. We need to respect every living being, even if they are not human.

Every year my family has a reunion on our family farm, as we have done for 151 years. My son and I were looking at three cows. All of them were new mothers like myself. The mothers fed them from their udders, like I fed my son from my breast. He soon realized that they had nipples just like me. He started to get excited and wildly wave his hands and arms about. I laughed and told him that Mommy can’t produce gallons of milk like those Mommies can.

The cows stared at us and looked at my son and I. I believe they saw he was smaller than I, and that I was a new Mother too.

Cows are such gentle and inquisitive creatures, and for those few minutes we had an understanding and mutual respect for one another. I nodded and my son waved. They nodded back and we went back to our daily lives. They turned away and went back to theirs. Yes we are mothers. We are still learning. I respect them, and they respect me.

Adventures in Breastfeeding

   My son has been teething lately, and has been drooling massive amounts. Last night he was nursing himself to sleep. I thought he had been drooling on me, so I really didn’t care. He kept playing in his drool. Then I realized this “drool” smelled terrible, and it was sticky! It was spit up. He was smearing it all over himself and me. I couldn’t help but laugh.

Breastfeeding is an Amazing Experience!

I am currently breastfeeding my 8 month old son. It has completely changed the way I think about breasfeeding. I have heard some women don’t want to give up breasfeeding their children! Before I was a mother, I didn’t understand why. Now I do. Here is why….

1. Your body is providing your baby with nourishment.  How cool is that?!

2. It is social time for them! (Babies love to smile and talk while they are having a snack.)

3. Breastfeeding is a bond that only your child and you share. (I like to think of it as Mommy and baby time.)

4. It has many health benefits that are long lasting.
https://www.google.com/url?q=http://www.cdph.ca.gov/programs/breastfeeding/Documents/MO-BF-Benefits.pdf&sa=U&ei=kbd1U5WECceAqgbv44CwAg&ved=0CBUQFjAFOBQ&usg=AFQjCNEdp_AQhVeZ9od1YbnntXKP-LiZrw

5. The milk always fresh and the right temperature, when it comes directly from the tap.

6. Did you know breast milk has similar properties cannabis? (Cool!)
http://www.naturalnews.com/036526_cannabinoids_breast_milk_THC.html

7. It tastes like sugar water.

8. Breastfeeding in public boosts your self esteem. (You have to be very confident to do this, and not give a flying fuck what anyone else thinks!)

We as mothers do whatever we can to provide. Even if it is not right from the tap. But I must say, I enjoy the special bond I have with my son because of breastfeeding. It has helped me to become a more confidant mother!