My Dear Eva Diva
I thought sending your sister to kindergarten was hard, but wow. This is my hardest day. O my little baby. From the second I found out you were in my belly until today, I’ve been with you, protecting you. I’ve been crying over you. I’ve been in love with you. I thank god for our rough road. If it hadn’t of been so rough, who knows what our bond would look like. But it was, and you were the baby I almost lost. You are my miracle, you are my fighter. You are my Eva Diva. You are the girl I prayed harder for than I have ever prayed in my life. You are my perfect blue-eyed angel meant to change me forever, and you did, and you still do. Continue reading
My dear Olive,
It’s 5:45 am on August 15th 2018, your first day of kindergarten. This day has always seemed so far away. I don’t think reality has even hit me yet.
I have a confession to make. I’ve been a little obsessed with my diet and weight loss lately. No matter what I seem to do, this last 10lbs of baby weight won’t come off. OK, so I should probably stop calling it baby weight, since my baby will be 3 this winter. Whatever it is, it’s driving me nuts and pissing me off. Just to add insult to injury, there is no good logic here. I’m an active person. I don’t eat like shit (mostly). I drink like 3 gallons of water a day. What the hell you guys? I know I’m not alone in this boat, and that helps, but really what gives? I got to thinking about it, and I think I have figured it out. Follow me here ladies;
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Before I became a mother none of these phrases would have come out of my mouth. Well, maybe like one or two but definitely not one a regular basis. Now I say this shit every day, usually multiple times a day. Sometimes when I hear myself I think “what the fuck happened to my life?” I’m sure you moms and dads out there can relate. Here are my weirdest:
I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m fine with that because I drink coffee anyway. I laugh too loud. I don’t understand boundaries, and I can be rather vulgar. With all that said, I believe everyone serves their purpose in this life.
Could someone please tell me what is going on this year? My children are sick way more than they are healthy. It’s like the cold, cough, flu thing is never going to leave my house. I literally Lysol until almost rendered unconscious. What’s the point? Why don’t we just re-name “pre-school”, breeding ground for every mild disease known to man-kind?
EVERY damn day it’s a new e-mail from the school nurse. Sometimes they come in multiple times a day. So basically, even when my kids are not sick, I’m paranoid by the next looming virus. Paranoia no more my friends. My nightmare has become reality.
I belong to one of those neighborhood websites, as I’m sure a lot of you do. Well since I’ve been reading, The life-changing magic of tidying up, by Marie Kondo (you have to read this) my house has been in a state of constant purge. We are also undergoing a decent size home renovation that is fueling the purge as well. So, I’ve been selling lots of stuff on my neighborhood website. It’s cool because I make a couple bucks, and have meet some of my awesome neighbors. It’s actually been a very pleasant experience, until yesterday.
I’m not new to internet trolls. Rude people with rude comments about just about everything. I expect them on my blog comments, thus approval process. I see them on Facebook and such. I never expected a troll on a sales post, but here she was.
Here are a few mom’s I just can’t be friends with. I like meeting new people and I try to be kind to everyone. However, making “mom friends” is tough, even for the super social. I consider myself a “cut your losses” kind of lady. I approach a potential friend and say “Hi I’m Sarah, would you like to drink wine and bitch about our kids”? If the answer is no, that’s OK. I just like to know where I stand. Before I developed this intense screening process for potential friends, I met the ladies below. You may know some of these gals as well.
I entered into our second viable pregnancy on the cusp of a miscarriage. I had miscarried before, so I was not new to the feelings. However, this pregnancy I felt relaxed. Maybe that was because I was already 7 weeks along. Yep, I had gone through two full periods all while carrying this baby. Basically, by the time I found out I was pregnant, I was out of the “danger zone”. Or at least the danger zone as I had known it.
The news was shocking to say the least. I was at my OBGYN’s office for a birth control RX. The previous miscarry had been a lot on my husband and I. We had decided to take pre-cautions until we were sure we wanted to try for a second baby. Ironic that this was the day I saw the baby I absolutely couldn’t live without.
No symptoms, no signs of pregnancy. A different baby, a different pregnancy. It was then that I learned, sometimes when a woman miscarries, her body will begin to ovulate “twice a month”. Often your cycle will continue through the first couple months of pregnancy. Lots of surprises that day.
Fast forward a few months and I’m feeling great. I’ve been relaxed and traveling. Spending time with family out of state. I got to announce this baby in person to so many people that I loved. Something most “out of towners” don’t get to do. Thanks to a new blood panel test, we would even know the sex in a few weeks.
I had secretly been longing for another little girl. I felt like I knew her all along. We shot our “announcement photo’s” with a little pair of pink baby shoes along ours. Even a picture of my husband digging in his wallet, lol. I held off on telling distant friends and social media until exactly 15 weeks.
That’s when it happened.
When I found out our first baby was a girl, I was thrilled. After almost two years of girl life, I wasn’t ready for that to be over. I silently hoped our second little bundle was a girl as well. Nothing made me happier than finding out I was going to be a girl mom again. Sure, I’ve had scary thoughts of teenage life with these two sweeties, but nothing could damper my happiness of raising girls. WRONG! O how wrong I was!
It’s not the drama, the attitude, the whining and crying. It’s the other girls. Apparently, we now live in some alternative universe where “mean girls” start in pre-school. Now, I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck. I was prepared to counsel my girls through middle and high school bullying. BUT pre-school, are you F’ing kidding me? This isn’t going to be the post where I rant and rave about my daughter’s experiences with “mean girls”. This is the post where I make sure my daughter doesn’t turn into one.