Slow Down

Transitioning the last baby into the next phase of her life is harder than I thought it would be. Weaning. I have been holding off for as long as possible but I know it's time. It's not a complete cut off but the line has been drawn.
 Today was the first "no more milky after nap." There were tears, sobs, and temper tantrums. Maeli wasn't happy, either. I want to hold on and slow time. I blinked one day when my boys were playing with blocks and toy trucks and now they are 15 looking for jobs and wanting real trucks. Paris was happily twirling in her skirts and now she's wearing make-up. Jakey rattles off sports stats and is playing his first year in fantasy football. Life is going in fast forward. Where is my pause button.
Don't blink.

The Side I Try To Hide

   Sometimes my thoughts get dark and ugly and I think I will never feel joy again. Maybe it lingers from the depression I suffered years ago, I don't know. I have been gloomy for a couple days now.
   I blame God, I blame Hubby and then I turn on myself. The arguments I have inside my head are like venom. I keep it bottled and it's like poison pulsating through my veins. The thoughts, the anger, the loathing.  I hate being around people when I'm like this, I feel like it's radiating through my skin and contaminating the air around me.
   So, what do I do about it?
   Well, when I was younger, about 12 years ago, the thoughts weighed so heavily in my mind that I would just lie in bed for hours at a time. It physically hurt to move, even to raise an arm. My muscles would ache at the smallest movement. I went to the doctor and he gave me meds. I went back a couple months later and told him I felt worse, he gave me more medicine. I was on medication for 4 years, the last 2 I think I was on auto pilot because I don't remember much. The older kids ask me to tell them fond memories of their childhood and I can't remember those 2 years.
   One day I woke up and realized I had not taken the medication for a few days. I was dizzy, sick and could think clearly for the first time in a really long time. Jacob leaned over to give me a kiss before leaving for work and I told him I didn't want to take it anymore. I slowly started recovering. I started thinking maybe the world didn't revolve around me. Maybe there was another life to live that didn't involve me having depression. Me not always thinking about... me.
   Now what I do is I remind myself how bad it was and I'm not that person anymore. I am more secure and I  know I can tell The Lord anything and everything, even that I'm angry with Him or disappointed. He's a big God, He can handle it. I remind myself that my basic needs are met and that everything else is "gravy".  I think about all the blessings in my life. I'm usually back to my cheery self in no time, though I might not go skipping down the sidewalk any time soon.It also helps to laugh. As much as I want to lock myself away I force myself around people, happy people, people who will make me laugh.
   Another thing, for me, is to stay away from anyone who will join me in my dark hell.

Rock Those Mom Jeans!

I read someones blog about the hideous and dreadful "mom jean" and how to not fall into that trap. First of all, if the placement of the pockets on my jeans aren't where you think they should be, well, should you really be looking at my butt? Second, if my high waist paint offends you, don't look, you are not the one wearing them, I am and I'm OK with it. Third, do I have $60+ to spend on jeans that not only fit but are also "socially acceptable"? No, not really.
   I will rock those plus size, Lane Bryant, on super clearance, wide pocket, high waist jeans and I will not care if some fashion snob calls them "Mom Jeans".
   Ladies, just stop it. Stop looking down your noses at other women. If it really bothers you that much then treat a woman to a nice new pair of jeans or get over it.
   While I am on my soap box I would like to add eyebrow waxing to the mix. I have been with women who rolled their eyes and had gas looks on their faces when it came to women who didn't pluck or wax their eye brows. "Oh my gawd, did you see her eyebrows, that is so disgusting!" No, your attitude is disgusting, grow up.

Beer: It's Whats For Dinner

   Jakey is 8 years old and in his "picky food" stage. This morning he yells out "I want meatloaf" because he loved the meatloaf I made last night so much he had 2 helpings. I didn't make a normal meatloaf.
   Hubby makes fun of me because I'm always changing recipes, even if I've never made it before I will most likely change it. I will use what I have instead of shopping for more stuff if I think the recipe will be fine without it.
    The recipe for the meatloaf called for the normal ingredients; bread crumbs, milk, seasonings, egg... but instead of milk I added 1 cup of beer and Worcestershire. Instead of an egg (because I didn't have an egg) I added shredded cheddar cheese.It doesn't taste heavy with beer in fact, it had a good meaty flavor and was super moist. I don't drink beer, I hate it's taste but I do love it in recipes.

   I didn't take any pictures because I didn't think I would blogg about it until Jakey yelled for it this morning. Yay me! I'm so happy I found something he likes.

You Look Fine

  For 16 years I have tried to hide myself. I have been ashamed and embarrassed and thought I was less than a person. I am hideous, ugly, frumpy, flabby, disgusting... and the list goes on. I feel like I need to apologize to people around me for being fat. "I know I'm fat and I'm sorry you have to look at me"  I have asked the dreaded question, "How do I look?" 
  I wanted so desperately to hear, "You look nice, Babe." or "Good" or (gasp) "Beautiful". Instead, with barely a glance, "You look fine." 
  You look fine? It's like saying "People won't laugh and point to your face." "You look fine" is not a positive, it's not even neutral, it is most definitely a negative.
  I hate my picture taken. At my own baby shower I was fighting back tears while opening my gifts because someone was snapping away. I just wanted them to stop, I wanted to run out of the room and hide. Most women want picture of their beautiful pregnant bellies but I just wanted to disappear.I have very VERY few pictures of me with my kids or hubby. My great grand kids aren't going to know who I am. My kids won't have any pictures to show their kids, "This is my mom and me when I was young".
  Too many women feel this way. Too many hard working, intelligent, good heart-ed women feel like this because of their weight. Well, I think it's time for me to start thinking of myself as a person, someone worth loving. I have to get over myself and just live life. I can be better then this. I can be a beautiful person inside even though the package might not be.
  So what am I trying to say? Am I just whining? Normally the answer  would be yes but I really am not whining this time. I think I finally get it. There is always a standard of beauty that is set by "man" that only few people can even accomplish. If you are one of those people, that is great for you, honestly. My Lord, my husband, children, friends and family see my heart and that is what I want to be beautiful. Yeah, sure, I will go through stages where I'm crying on my bed because I can't wear the latest fashion but I don't want that to dictate who I am. My body is fat but I am not fat. I will continue to work out and I will eat what I think to be healthy but I won't starve myself and I can not spend hours a day exercising, that is not living my life to it's fullest potential. I also need to stop hiding. I can't run from the camera and I can dress in the clothes I want to wear.
  Another thing I've realized is most people are not thinking about me and don't really care what I look like.

 

This is a picture of Jakey and me. He loves me just as I am

Maeli

 

  Maeli Joy came into this world on a beautiful May day. I couldn't help but cry the happiest of tears when the nurse held her over me before taking her into another room to clean her off. I couldn't help myself, just like any other mom, I looked at her and loved her. She is baby number 5 and I love her just as much as I love all the rest. I cried just like I did every other time. I hugged, swaddled and snuggled just like I did with the others. I wanted to remember every moment, every sigh and whimper.
 Welcome to the world, Maeli, it is already a brighter place with you here.

The Fig

I have not been taking a lot of pictures lately. I need to start practicing for when the new baby arrives. When I was in the mountains in North Carolina last summer my auto focus stopped working and I stopped taking pictures. I guess I depend on the auto focus too much. After looking at some of the pics I took yesterday of the cat I came to the conclusion that I need to get my eyes checked and get the auto focus fixed.