Awful Beautiful Life

I love this crazy, tragic, sometimes almost magic, awful beautiful life…

My Hypothesis Is… September 9, 2008

Filed under: Marriage — Sara @ 3:44 pm

Terry is a wonderful husband and father.  He usually makes perfect sense out of most situations and can calm me down when I freak out (which seems to be happening a lot more recently…).  Except when he’s sleeping and gets woken up in the middle of the night.  If he get startled by a noise, he nearly has a heart attack and grabs the closest thing in reach to use as a weapon (sometimes his pillow, which I don’t think would be very effective for some reason).  If I wake him up because he is snoring or a baby is crying or I’m scared because it’s dark and I heard a noise, it takes him a few minutes to really wake up and be coherent.  Sometimes he will even get up out of bed and walk around, but still be sleeping (I think the medical term/concise way to say it would be sleepwalking).

My not-so-useful-in-the-middle-of-the-night husband.

My not-so-useful-in-the-middle-of-the-night husband.

The first time I encountered this lovely tendency of his, we were living in Lubbock and he woke up in the middle of the night (which means I woke up because something moved and it might get me!).  He never gets up in the middle of the night, so sat up I asked what he was doing.  “Going to the bathroom,” he said, sounding a little annoyed that I asked.  So I lay back down and tried to go back to sleep.  Then, I hear the front door open.  Although we were in Lubbock, we did not have an outhouse, so things didn’t really add up.  So I follow Terry and find him in the front yard, about to do his business (just #1, thank goodness!).   I told him to he needed to go to the bathroom and escorted him inside.  He later told me he woke up mid-pee in the bathroom, wondering what had just happened.

I somewhat shrugged this incident off at the time.  We were in college and it’s likely that Terry had been drinking that night and we all know how crazy drunk people can be (certainly not from personal experience, though…).  Of course, 3 years later, it happened again.  Now I just think he’s crazy, regardless of his level of drunkenness.

So this past Monday night, Nate woke up around midnight.  He’s been waking up several times a night for a week or so because he is getting his molars in (poor baby).  Usually, he cries for a few short minutes and goes back to sleep.  But that night, he cried a little longer and I figured we should give him some tylenol and a comfort snuggle.  So I woke Terry up. Since I’m pregnant AND scared of the dark, I figured he should be the one to rescue Nate.

I nudge Terry and tell him what’s going on and what his mission is.  He gets out of bed and says, “I need to turn on the light.”  “Why?” I asked, annoyed that I had to be disturbed by having the light on.  Doesn’t he know how hard it is for me to fall asleep?!?!  He walked over to the door and turned on the overhead light.  Then, he walked over to the lamp next to his nightstand and turned IT on, as if the 4 fluorescent bulbs above us weren’t bright enough for whatever it was he was doing.  “What are you doing?” I ask, even more annoyed.

“My hypothesis is, that if I turn this lamp off, he will stop crying and go back to sleep,” explains Terry.  WHAT?!?!?  Then he heads for our bathroom, with Nate still crying halfway across the house.  Imagine that, turning off the lamp in our room didn’t make him stop.  “Where are you going now? What about Nate?” I ask, REALLY annoyed now.  “I have to pee.”

By the time Terry flushes the toilet and heads back to bed, Nate has stopped crying.  I ask him if he’s drunk (seems like an appropriate question after what had just happened).  “No,” he says, “I’m just really tired.  Do you want me to go in there still?”  “No, he’s stopped crying now.” (duh! can’t you hear?!?!)  So he turns off the overhead light and curls up in bed, and falls back asleep in no less than 60 seconds.  I lay awake for another 30 minutes or so, trying to understand what just happened.

The next evening, I ask him if he remembers what happened.  He said he woke up mid-pee again and was a little confused.  I guess this is what I have to look forward to after baby #2 comes and we’re up in the middle of the night more often.  I’m so lucky.


A String Around My Finger September 4, 2008

Filed under: Parenting,Pregnancy — Sara @ 9:46 pm

Time and lack of sleep make you forget a lot of things.  Like how hard it can be to be pregnant, how hard it is to raise kids (I know, we’re only 15 months in, help!!), and things to remember before going to the hospital to pop out a baby (no, it’s not actually that easy).  I decided to make myself of physical list to remind me of these things.  The next time I pass the newborn rack at Target and swoon at the tiny little outfits, I hope to be able to resist that “I want another baby” urge.  If I don’t and bring the subject with Terry, I give him permission to thump me and direct me back to this post.


26 weeks prego.

26 weeks prego.

  1. Most importantly, no Dr. Pepper whenever I want it.
  2. Even with monitored Dr. Pepper intake, I will not sleep for more than a few hours at a time for at least 5 months.  And then 7 months after that because I’ll have a baby waking me up.
  3. My back will hurt for at least 4 months, EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT.  Massages, heating pads, baths, and tylenol don’t help.  No matter how many times you try them.
  4. No drinking.  At the time in your life that you need to relax the most because you have incredible amounts of stress.  If there were a time in my life that I needed a drink, it is now!
  5. Migraines don’t always go away when you get pregnant.  They can get worse.  And you can’t take magic drugs.  It’s like a cruel joke.
  6. I cannot find a comfortable position to fall asleep in.  Or sit in.  Or walk in.
  7. Nothing fits right.  Even if it is made for prego people.  And even if people tell you that you look cute, you feel fat and awkward.  Especially when you start accidentally knocking things over with your belly.  Or try to fit through a space that you just can’t.
  8. Your feet and fingers swell.  I haven’t gotten to that point in this pregnancy yet, but I know it’s coming.  It’s awesome to be 9 months pregnant and get bad looks from strangers because you aren’t wearing a wedding ring.  AND, the end of this pregnancy is in the middle of winter, so my feet are going to be freezing when I’m wearing the one pair of flip flops that I can still fit my porkers in.
  9. You are tired everyday.  Fall asleep at your desk tired.  Forget things people told you 5 seconds ago tired.  Even in the “wonderful” second trimester if you already have a kid you’re running around after.  I can only imagine it gets worse when are pregnant and have 2 kids to wrestle with.
  10. Pregnancy makes you stupid.  Just ask Terry if you have questions about this one.  Or my old boss.  I think he started to wonder why he hired me when I started regularly walking into his office, only to turn around to go back to my desk to try to remember why I had walked all the way back there in the first place.  I actually forgot how to spell drool the other day.  “D-R-U-E-L?  No… D-R-E-W-E-L?  No… Oh well, I just won’t send that IM.”

Raising a Toddler:

My little Red Raider.

My lil' Red Raider

  1. They wake up early.  I am not a morning person.  Not even a little bit.
  2. They throw things.  Most of the time at your head.  Then they laugh about it.  And don’t understand the word “no”.  (my prego-induced stupidity is evident in the fact that I just typed the word “know” instead of “no” at the end of that sentence and had to go back and correct myself)
  3. They hit.  When you’re sitting down, the target seems to be your boobs.  Which are incredibly tender when you’re pregnant.  You get the idea.
  4. They are picky eaters.  One day they love macaroni and cheese.  The next they throw it at your head.
  5. They don’t talk.  At least not very much or very well.  Figuring out why they are whining and pointing randomly, which turns into screaming and flailing in the middle of Target so everyone is staring at you, is HARD.
  6. Every time you figure out their sleep schedule, they change and you spend 2 months re-figuring out what makes them happy and it only lasts a few days.  I think they do it on purpose.
  7. They FREAK OUT when you take something away from them or shut a door-  I’m talking running around aimlessly (often into things, hurting themselves, making them more upset), screaming, flapping arms mad.
  8. They poop and it stinks.  Normally, it’s not really that bad when it’s your own kid, but when you’re pregnant and have a weak stomach, it’s not so nice.
  9. They like their Daddy more than you.  (I’m pretending this is always true to make myself feel better)
  10. They are expensive.  Average cost of raising a child is a million dollars.  At least half of that must be spent on diapers in the first two years.

The Super-Fun Hospital Stay:


My sleeping angel (the only time he was an angel). 🙂

  1. Pack your bag a month early.  Babies rarely come right on time.  And they sometimes come early.  2 weeks early.  And usually in the middle of the night when it’s difficult to remember every item you MUST have to make the hospital stay bearable.
  2. Pack socks in your bag.  Your feet will be freezing when you are only wearing that sexy hospital gown (made sexier by the fact that you are HUGE underneath it).  Probably even more freezing in December than they were in May with baby #1.
  3. EAT ON THE WAY TO THE HOSPITAL.  This is FOR REAL the most important thing to remember.  After you get to the hospital, you don’t get to eat until an hour or so after the baby is born.  And labor can take a long time.  Like 18 hours.  And it usually starts in the middle of the night, which means you haven’t eaten since dinner (or bedtime snack 🙂 ) the night before.  I don’t think the doctors want you to eat before you get there, but it so would have been worth it.  It’s really not easy to push a baby out when you have no energy because you haven’t eaten in 24 hours.  REALLY.
  4. Your husband will get meals brought to him by your family from every delicious restaurant within a 5 mile radius of the hospital.  And he will eat them in front of you while you are in labor.  And you’ll drool a little bit (I spelled it right on the first try!!).  And beg him to let you have ONE BITE.  And he’ll say no because he’s a selfish %*&$, but ultimately because he loves you.
  5. When the nurses offer to take the baby so you can get some sleep, LET THEM.  You will have plenty of opportunities to listen to it cry over the next 18 years.  You need to sleep now so you don’t kill them then.
  6. When the nurse says to wait until you can’t stand the pain anymore to ask for the epidural, don’t wait.  It takes at least 30 minutes for the anesthesiologist to be paged to your room and then another 10 minutes for it to kick in.  If you wait until you can’t stand it anymore, how will you feel 40 minutes from then?  If you’re getting drugs anyways, don’t put yourself through anymore pain than necessary.  You aren’t proving anything to anyone, you’re just being stupid.
  7. Get drugs.  It hurts.  But, it’s worth it.
  8. The nursery doesn’t have to be perfect before you leave for the hospital.  The baby won’t sleep in there for at least a week (for some families months) after you get home.  Although, it’s probably best to prepare it a little more than we have for baby #2 (our current position is “do nothing until we know the sex”- which we won’t find out until it actually arrives…)  Why am I not freaking out about that?
  9. The second night is always harder than the first.  Apparently, this was written somewhere in the stack of paperwork they hand you when you check into the hospital. (Does anyone actually read that while in labor?!?!)  I was convinced I was a horrible mother that spawned a demon child (turns out only half of that was true) until I asked for help.  Turns out EVERY baby gives their parents a rough second night.  If your baby didn’t do this, please never tell me about it.  I will cry.  Twice.
  10. You will lose all sense of modesty during labor and delivery.  At least 3 doctors and 6 nurses (and anyone else you let in the delivery room) will see your hooha during the course of labor.  And you won’t care because you just want this gigantic baby OUT.

If you don’t have kids, hopefully you still want them after reading this.  If you do have them, hopefully you can relate and laugh a little. I inserted adorable pictures of Nate to help take your mind off of my bitching and negativity (I’m pretty pregnant right now, so I can’t be held accountable for my hormonal rants).  It’s not really that bad.  It’s mostly good, actually.  But, I don’t really want to do it a third time.  (most likely…) 🙂