Damn You Amee

So it is 9:00pm and The Boy is still chattering away and he starts calling out to me.  So I head back to his room and open the door.  First of all one of the cats runs out so apparently that is who he has been chatting with this whole time.  But immediately I notice the poop smell.  No biggie, he does this sometimes before he goes to sleep and, to be honest, I would rather he wait to go to sleep until I have changed him so he doesn't get horrible diaper rash.

So we joke about closing the eyes because of the light and make our usual jokes as I am changing him.  When I pull down his diaper I notice that the poop is awfully far up the front of his diaper.  It's almost as if...someone has put their hand down there and...oh shit.  Gross.  It's under his finger nails and all over his jammies...  Nasty.  And it is totally Amee's fault.

The other day we were talking about how her daughter seems to always put her hands in her poop immediately after she poops and smears it all over the house.  "I don't think we'll have that problem in our house," I say smugly.  "The Boy hates to be dirty.  He even wants his hands wiped off constantly when he's playing in the sandbox.  We have a lot of problems, but somehow I don't think him playing in his own poop is one of them."

Famous last words.  Damn you!

PS--To clean him not only did it take like 5 wipes and a new diaper, but then he had to have new jammies.  Fortunately the bed itself was clean.  But then we had to cut the fingernails, and then scrub them under soap before he could be redeposited back in bed.  Once back in his bed, he was asleep in 5 minutes.

Baby Makin' Update

There is so much craziness going on in my work life right now that it seems as if this issue has kind of taken the back burner, which is totally out of the norm for me. Usually I am totally obsessed on what is going on and when. But things are moving along, so I thought I would post an update here. I have talked with donor boy and he is ready to go this month. I mailed him a check last weekend so that he can go and get testing done. He is basically going to do an entire STD panel, an AIDS test and all the hepatitis tests. So he is supposed to go and do that this week. Then I told him I would give him a call and give him the dates I will need to see him for the inseminations.



Yesterday was CD1 (cycle day one for my non-infertile friends reading...) so that gets the ball rolling. I am going to ask him to do inseminations on day 14, 16 and 18. So hopefully I will see him on Monday August 11th, Wednesday August 13th and then Friday August 15th. Since I tested positive for ovulation on day 19 last month, I think that should cover my basis. Also last month was a weird month as I usually ovulate pretty much right around day 14. I had a 32 day cycle last month and usually I am pretty spot on 28 days. So that is why I am going for the inseminations around my usual ovulation of day 14.



My donor is an interesting guy. He is kind of like a bohemian hippy type so he is one who just kinda "flies by the seat of his pants." I don't have a ton of experience with this guy so there is a chance that the inseminations won't happen exactly when I would like them to happen, and there is an even smaller chance that they won't happen at all. Donor is going out of town to take his daughter back to her mom and says he will be back up in our area around the weekend of the 9th of August. So that is cutting it pretty close. And for someone who regularly gets their phone shut off and sort of disappears for a few weeks at a time, it is probably a stretch to assume that things will go exactly as I planned. But I am going to just hang in there and see what happens. If he is totally flaky and nothing ends up happening this month then I am out nothing. If it appears that he isn't going to be reliable enough for me to count on in the future then I will have to go back to looking into frozen sperm from the bank. But man, that is just so expensive. So I am going to give him the benefit of the doubt and hope it all works out with him. I know it sounds cheesy, but I really do feel like whatever is supposed to happen will. If he is supposed to be my donor and make a baby with me, then it will all fall into place somehow. But if he isn't, then it won't. Seems kinda simple, but very out of the ordinary for my anal-retentive Virgo self.



I guess since I already have The Boy, I don't feel that intense necessity to have everything planned down to the letter. It is interesting how different I feel the second time around. I am just as determined to make baby number two as I was to make baby number one, but maybe this time I am just a little more relaxed about the whole thing. I will make this happen. Or at least I will do my best to make this happen. If it is with this donor, then that's great. And if it isn't, then I will look into my other options when that happens. Right now, we are good to go with this cycle and I have no reason to think the inseminations won't happen. So I am holding onto that for the time being. Of course, I will keep you all posted. :)

Honesty

When I started this blog I swore I would be completely honest here.  I have such admiration for all the writers that I read on a daily basis who are completely honest on their blogs.  Reading the entries that are probably the hardest to write are the ones that connect me with the writer, and make me feel like I am not alone in my personal struggles as a parent.

So being 100% honest, the last couple of weeks have been some of the hardest parenting moments in a very long time.  Going off anti depressants at the same time as having a major job upheaval, during which I am processing the divorcing and ending of a 8 year relationship; probably wasn't one of my best ideas in the world.  But whatever, there is never a perfect time to make things happen.  Sometimes you just have to get through life and manage through the tough times.  That is what I have tried to do.

But being honest, it has been tough.  I have been stressed out beyond belief because of financial worries and how to handle them.  I made the best possible outcome for myself and my family, but that outcome comes with A LOT of change and a lot of hours during a transition period.  You add that onto being stressed out in general and trying to take care of The Boy 24/7 by myself (The Ex is out of town and has been quite a bit lately, so it's just been me), and you make a very stressed out Mommy.

Enter what could be classified as "The Sensitive Kid."  You bring The Boy into the picture and things change.  This particular boy is very sensitive.  Almost to a detriment.  So he literally feels what is going on with his Mommy.  And when Mommy gets stressed, so does The Boy.  And the way that he reacts to this situation is that he pulls away from the stressed out Mommy.  This creates an adverse effect where Mommy doesn't seem to understand why The Boy begins to literally hate her.  

Everyday when I would get home from work, he would greet me with anger.  He wouldn't want to see me.  He would almost be upset by my presense.    I have to say that it really began to hurt my feelings.  I mean I work my ass off all day long and the one thing I look forward to is seeing him at the end of the day.  It wasn't that way for the past couple of weeks.  He wanted nothing to do with me, and my little feelings got hurt and I pulled back away from him.  I had plenty of stuff to do anyway, so if he would rather be with his Gigi than me, then fine.  I was too busy to really notice.  (Insert horrific guilt feeling here later...).  

Then I began to notice how shitty I was actually feeling.  I felt like I was in a fight with a spouse or something.  Or someone whom I loved deeply.  I realized I felt like I was fighting with my son.  It was worse than any fight I had ever felt with The Ex.  I felt disconnected from my son.  I wasn't enjoying parenting.  I wasn't enjoying the time we were spending together.  It really was tearing me apart slowly.  But I didn't know how to break the cycle.  As usual my therapist helped me out.  I go to see her every other week, and even if we don't solve my issues in the one hour that I spent with her, I am able to come home and continue the process.  That is what happened here.  And it led me to kind of a "duh" moment where I realized that it was totally me.

My son was reacting to me.  I had essentially pulled away from him and he felt it.  And he was hurt by it.  I was unhappy and stressed out and he is so damn connected to me that he felt it personally.  And he didn't like it.  So he pulled away.  And I let it happen.  Instead of noticing the difference between us and fixing it, I just blamed him.  I blamed a two and a half year old.  But I see it now.  He needs ME.  Not stressed out me, but the me that plays with him on the floor and talks to him about all the different trains.  He needs the me that understands what he is feeling (because he maybe can't express it in words) and can take care of not only his physical needs, but his little soul as well.  And he needs me to know how very sensitive he is and how sometimes this cruel, real world is too much for him.  And he needs me to step up and help him through that.

I missed out on that for the past couple of weeks.   But I get it now.  I really have seen the light, for lack of a better term.  I spent this entire weekend making up for past times.  I was "there" every single minute with my boy this weekend.  And he felt it.  And he is fine.  And I am fine.  But damn, it was tough.  This parenting thing is hard.  And it comes with a lot of pressure.  But that little boy is worth it all.  I don't care how "sensitive" he is.  I will be the person I need to be to show him how to survive and live and love in this world.  After all, that is only one small part of my job with him.

Such a technology slut

So all those who know me know that I love me some electronics.  Can't get enough of them.  I could care less about having the latest "bag" (I even still call them purses...shudder!) or pair of jeans or whatnot.  Bring me the electronics.  I have always been that way.  Probably came from my stepfather with whom I lived growing up.  He could be classified as a nerd, I suppose in some crowds, but he showed me the love of a clear picture and the latest gadget.  Fabulous man, he is.

So my love affair with technology began some time ago.  But my love affair with Apple products only began a short while ago.  The Ex and I purchased a new 24" iMac back in February.  This new computer brought with it a renewed affection for all things techy.   All the things I wished I could do on my PC (you know, simple things like...oh I don't know...getting video OFF the damn camera and into the damn computer?) are just so easy and fabulous on my mac.  I love it.  It is really true when they say once you go mac, you never go back.

So when the new generation iphone started leaking about...I coveted it.  I watched and read all the articles on how it was so much faster and better than the first phone and I knew that I would be waiting until the new version came out before got it.  I even went so far as to set aside money from my tax return back in April so that when it came out in July I could finally have it!

So on Friday July 19th I went over to my local mall ready to buy the phone to find out that people were waiting in line for over 5 hours.  Holy shit.  I had the kid with me and obviously hadn't prepared for THAT long a wait (I was expecting about 2 hours), so I had to abandon my quest for that day.  It wasn't meant to be on the first day.  However 2 days later, I knew I couldn't wait any longer.  I went over and got in line.  I made arrangements with Ex to have her come by the mall and rescue The Boy and watch him while I waited my life away if I had to.  I waited in line for 3 hours and left with my iphone.  I love it.  It really was worth that wait.

BUT!!!  What I didn't even realize at the time was that it possessed something so wonderful that it would surpass even my high expectations of it.  And that something is the ability for a certain small someone in my life to be able to watch full episodes of Thomas the Train and/or Bob the Builder on said gadget (pictured above).  It buys me time when we are eating in a restaurant, or during a particularly bad car ride.  And it even buys me a few extra minutes while I am trying to get a blog post up when said small someone would really like his lunch.  I LOVE it!

Back in time for the trains

Wow.  It feels like I have lived a couple of lifetimes in the last couple of weeks.  There is lots to talk about.  Mainly how the last couple of weeks affected my son and myself as a result.  But today I am here to talk about what we did today.  We went to A Day Out With Thomas over by the beach.  I have to preface this with the fact that my son is seriously addicted to Thomas.  Like in a serious way.  I joke that he is going to need a 12 step program to move away from Thomas.  So while I was excited about taking him, I didn't have very high expectations for the turnout.  I had read this review about A Day Out With Thomas.  You really need to go and read that.  She is hysterical.  And she expresses the day so much better than I ever could.  So go and read that and then come back here.  I'll wait...

Okay.  Done?  So it was a lovely day.  My boy did a little bit better on the train than hers, but not great.  He held on to me with a ferocity that was crazy.  But if I asked him if he was having a good time he would say yes.  And there was no crying.  We checked out Sir Topham Hat, which was a big excitement for all attending.  Then we headed over to the "Imagination Area" and got a temporty Harold the Helicopter tattoo.  It looks beautiful.  Then it was off to the "Retail Store" where The Boy looked longingly at items that were then picked up by his Gigi and promptly bought for him.  I vetoed a few, but he left with a new engine, a placemat, a t-shirt and the plastic crane.  Oh and some Thomas Bubbles thing.  Wow, after typing that I realize how ridiculous that is.  But it was a beautiful day with perfect weather.  I really had a nice time.  And The Boy had a great time.  And we seriously bonded and had a lovely day together.  It was nice to have him cling to me on the train and not my mom (further explanations on that coming soon).  It was a wonderful day with my boy and exactly what we both needed I think. 

The pictures above.  Leaving on the train before we started moving.  Then the death grip once we started moving.  And finally with his swag from his ever-spending Gigi.

Oh!  And when we got home today.  I got a message from donor boy.

Workin

Remember how I said all these great things had happened at work?  Well the great thing was the money that came with it, but what it really meant was a mass quantity of work.  I am going through a transition period that is slowly trying to kill me everyday...will be back soon...promise.

I'm Just Sayin'

So I haven't really been blogging about this, but I have been slowly (and under the supervision of my doctor) weaning myself off my anti depressants and sleeping medication that I have been on since The Boy was about 6 months old.  If I am going to proceed with a second pregnancy, I am going to do it in the healthiest manner possible.  And that means no medication except a prenatal vitamin.  It has been a very long process and I am pretty proud of myself for doing it while such craziness has been going on in my life.  BUT!  Yesterday was the first day in a very long time that I went all day long with no medication whatsoever.  No anti depressant, and nothing to help me sleep last night either.  First time in a very long time for that.  And guess what people?  I'm still here.  And I feel pretty damn good.

Mommy Night Out

While all of the fabulous women that I read on a daily basis get on planes and fly to congregate in our fair city for BlogHer, I am reminded how lucky I am that I get to live here all the time.  While I would have loved to attend the conference and hear some of these amazing women speak, I had to "settle" for a night out in the city with my best gay boyfriend.

When I was growing up, I loved to dance.  I took dance classes from the time I was 3 until the time I was 17.  Because of this my parents took me to see plays in San Francisco from time to time.  By far, my favorite was always A Chorus Line .  Last night I got a chance to head up to the city and see it for the fourth time.  While I realize this isn't as exciting as attending BlogHer, it was exciting for me nonetheless.  I sang along with all the songs and remembered how when I was little, I was convinced that I was going to be a professional dancer and therefore be living the life of those actors on the stage who desperately want to get that dancing job.  Now, at 33 years old and a self employed bookkeeper, I am about as far away from a dancer as one could get.  But for one night I can pretend and let myself enjoy those childhood emotions and excitements.

I am constantly stressed about the financial aspect of my life and wanting to continue to be able to stay in my house.  Part of why this is so difficult is that I happen to live in one of the most expensive places in the country.  However I am pretty damn lucky to live where I do.  The fact that I can hop in the car and drive for 45 minutes and be in one of the biggest cities in the US, and then also turn around and drive 45 minutes in the other direction and be at the beach, and then also drive a couple of hours and be at my cabin in the mountains is one of the main reasons why it is so expensive to live in the Bay Area.  But nights like last night make it worth it.  I got to leave The Boy with Ex and take off for a night out in the Big City.  And let me tell you, I don't do this often.  So while I pushed through the crowds and fought for parking with all the other people in Union Square last night, I also got to hop in my car at the end of the night and drive home and sleep soundly in my bed.  That's a pretty magnificent thing.

Here's hoping everyone out there at BlogHer is enjoying San Francisco as much as I do.  Pictured above, my swag from the theater last night.  I was going to try and snap a picture with my iphone while walking the streets, but somehow it seems wrong to whip out the camera and snap pictures with all the other tourists when this is actually my home.  So you get the day after swag instead.  Hope you all had a wonderful weekend as well.

As Melissa Etheridge says, "The Universe Listens"

When The Ex and I decided to permanently split up back in May I knew my life needed to change.  There was going to be no way that I could afford to stay in this house by myself, with my son, with the way things were going.  There were going to have to be major changes.  And then to top that off I have this whole crazy notion about having a second kid.  So not only do I need to do some financial damage control to keep the house that I am currently in, but I also need to raise some additional capital to be able to pay for daycare for a second child if that comes to be.  So I knew things needed to change.  I just wasn't sure how to make it happen.  And for the first time in my life, I didn't analyze the shit out of everything and try and come up with "a plan."  I didn't try and anticipate everything and create my own destiny.  Instead I sat back.  I took a backseat and just tried to live my life to the best of my ability.  I decided that I was going to look at everything the universe offered me and all options and see what came of things.  At the time, I knew I needed to find some sort of way to become pregnant again, I knew I needed to figure out how to make more money, and I knew I needed to move forward from my situation with The Ex.

The donor sort of fell into my lap.  I discussed my wanting to find someone to donate to most of the people who knew me somewhat closely.  I basically "put the word out."  And lo and behold, a few months later a client/friend of mine came to me and said she had a friend who she was pretty sure would be happy to be a sperm donor.  Seems he is going to be.  Turned out to be a wonderful guy and so far a pretty cool situation.  Instead of obsessively getting on the internet and scouring the sperm banks websites for potential donors and making phone calls and doctors appointment, I just sat back and waited to see if something came my way.  Luckily it did.  It's not a completely sealed deal yet and if it doesn't get to that, that's okay too.  I will figure it out.  But it came to me.

Then the work thing.  Without getting into too many details I played with the idea of getting a full time job but ultimately decided that the best decision for me and my son and potential future children is to remain self employed and therefore in charge of my own schedule.  I opted to see if I could take on a few extra clients and make some more money doing what I do now.  This week is the culmination of all of that.  It really could have gone either way.  I could have ended this week with putting in my 2 weeks notice for my main client (20 hours of my week), and having no extra clients.  However I fought for myself.  I fought for my worth.  It is hard to do that.  I don't do conflict well.  And I have a hard time taking a stand for myself.  But I made myself do it this week.  And now here on Friday I have a $7 an hour raise on my major client (the 20 hour a week one), I have taken on a new client that promises to bring in a pretty substantial amount each month and also offers the possibility of health benefits.  This is necessary for child number 2 because Ex won't be covering him/her on her insurance I don't assume.  And at the end of it all, I got a referral to another new client.  

You know, I just realized I am damn good at what I do.  And I deserve to be compensated for that.  I am not being outlandish or asking for more than what other experienced people in my field are making, but I finally just decided to demand it for myself.  And you know what?  People think I am worth it!  No one seemed to bat an eyelash.  I am in such a better position right now than I was 2 months ago.  And I feel like I put it out there to the universe.  I just stepped back and put out there what I needed.  And most of the things I have received.  Maybe the laws of karma really do work.

Today, on this very day, I feel so lucky.  I have an amazing little boy who I adore with my whole heart.  I have a supportive family who makes my life bearable.  I have amazing friends who not only love me, but read my blog to show me that.  :)  And I think I have figured out how to financially stay in my home, have a new baby and be able to truly support it, and for the first time in a long time...really look forward to my future.  The universe listened and I am so thankful for that.

PS--If you haven't heard the song by Melissa Etheridge you should really listen to it.  Here's a link to the lyrics.  

When Giving In to a Tantrum Ends Up Working for You

Yesterday was a rough day at work.  That is an understatement, but we'll go with it for our purposes here.  Since I work during the day I sometimes feel like I don't get to spend any time with The Boy.  So I always look forward to the end of the day when my mom brings him home from school to me.  I really wait for that moment all day sometimes.  Especially a day like yesterday.

So I see him through the window walking up the driveway shaking his head in an angry manner.  I open the door and go outside to greet him and say, "Hi Lovebug!"

  He looks at me and furrows his brow and yells "NO MOMMY!"  

Ummm...okay...  He looks at me and yells, "I go Gigi's house.  No Mommy."  

Gigi says in the background, "No honey, I told you we aren't going to Gigi's house today.  We have to go home and see Mommy."  At which point he repeated, "NO MOMMY!"  

He then stormed by me into the house and proceeded to go into his playroom and call for Gigi to join him.  I came in as well because I needed to vent to my mom about my evil work day.  As we were chatting, if The Boy ever caught my eye and made eye contact he would furrow his eyebrows and repeat, "NO MOMMY!"  This went on for about an hour and half before he would talk to me today.

Fast forward to right now.  Ask me where The Boy is.  He is at his Gigi's house.  Just as he requested.  And his Gigi is under instructions to not bring him back until he has adjusted his attitude properly.  And I got to come home from work, change my clothes, read a little bit of a magazine and update my itunes.  Then I decided it was probably time to get something to eat so I fired up the BBQ and cooked that wonderful pre-marinated Mahi Mahi from Trader Joe's.  Then I picked up the fresh bag of groceries that I had picked up on my leisurely drive home from work and made a fresh salad to enjoy with my Mahi Mahi.  If it wasn't a Wednesday evening I would be enjoying a glass of wine.  But tonight my water, and my salad, and my piece and quiet is just exactly what I needed.  Sometimes we need to give into our toddler's tantrums.  Because sometimes it ends up meaning a precious night alone for Mommy.  Go to Gigi's house indeed my boy.  We both had a lovely evening.

Well at least it still works

So finally, today being CD 19, I got a positive on my OPK. A little later than usual, but I guess that's a good thing considering my vacation plans for August. So now we just wait and see when the period arrives and start planning from there.

Now if I could only get a hold of my donor...

The benefits of having a small child

After playing outside in the yard and getting FILTHY, you can just throw him in the sink to clean him up before bedtime!

Apparently I'm nuts

I understand that it is hardly ideal to be a single parent.  I get that it isn't something that you should necessarily shoot for.  But I am constantly surprised by people's reaction when I tell them that I am planning on getting pregnant again (GASP!!) without being in a relationship.  Maybe I am too laid back about the whole thing, or maybe I happen to understand my circumstances better than the average joe that is making these comments.  Or maybe I am not doing a good enough job of explaining myself.  But I often feel like I am trying to convince people that it really is a good idea to do just a little LSD every single night of my life, rather than bring another child into this world.

If I look around to the families of people I know (not necessarily my close friends and family, but rather people they know etc...) I sometimes see a situation where the Mother and Father of the family have some SERIOUS issues in life.  Maybe these issues are in their relationship, maybe these issues are from their own childhood, or maybe they just don't live a very healthy lifestyle and are therefore teaching their children to do the same.  However because they happen to be part of a couple, people automatically think it's a great idea for them to have another baby.  Why is it that a couple who's marriage is in deep trouble, and the two people involved treat each other like crap, they are going to be better parents than I?  Just because of the two people?  Is that really it?  I can't tell you how many people assume that I should put my baby-making plans on hold until I meet someone else.  But really, if I think about that, then that is pushing back my baby quest for several years.  It takes time to meet someone and decide if they are worthy of dating, and then even more time to make sure they are the right fit for you.  And then once you have ideally passed that point, then you are in the throws of a new relationship and that is hardly the time to throw a pregnancy and a child into the mix.  So even if I met someone fabulous this afternoon, it would be at least a couple of years before I would try and have a baby with that person.  And let's face it, I am not getting any younger.  Neither is my son.  I don't want to have my kids over 5 years apart.  That works for a ton of families and I am not judging, but it wouldn't work for me.

I also have to admit that since I had my first baby with The Ex, I am somewhat comparing my situation with her to what my situation would have been like without her.  And although she is a wonderful mother to our son, having to take care of her and our relationship while having a baby was tough.  I won't go into too many details but let's just say that The Ex needed A LOT of attention and she needed to know that she was number one all the time.  She didn't want to share me with a baby and therefore expected me to still take care of her while I was also taking care of a newborn.  It doesn't help that our relationship had already been damaged by the infertility treatments (and other things of course), but I remember after I had The Boy I honestly felt that it would have been easier to JUST take care of this new little baby I had.  She wasn't thrilled with the idea of breast feeding, so I didn't (I pumped.  And pumped and pumped.  For a long time.  I wasn't willing to give up on our baby having breast milk, but I would concede on the actual boob suckage thing), she didn't want the baby to stay in the room with us after he was born, so he didn't.  Looking back, I would do a whole lot of things different now, but at the time I was trying to take care of a relationship at the same time, and also allow her to be a parent and make some of the big decisions.

So to me, the idea of doing this on my own, without having to take care of anyone else and worry about anyone else's feelings is just lovely.  Sounds great.  Sign me up.  Perhaps if I had a different situation with The Boy and The Ex then I would know what I was missing (that being a helpful and committed partner).  But I really was on my own then.  I was on my own and I also was trying to save a failing marriage at the same time.  That wasn't fun .  So the thought of doing this on my own?  Not horrible.  I am not fooling myself thinking it will be all flowers and bliss.  No way.  I know there are times when it is going to suck.  Big time.  But I don't think it will suck any worse than it did last time.  And I think it all turned out pretty spectacular last time.  I love being a parent to that little boy more than anything else in the world.  And I think I can offer that to another little person just waiting to join our family.  And even if everyone else thinks I am nuts, I can't wait to try and make that happen.

PS--I am on cycle day 16 or 17 and still haven't tested positive for ovulation yet.  WTF?

Back in the stirrups again

I had an appointment with my OB yesterday to talk about getting pregnant again.  She checked out all the lady bits and we talked about moving forward.  I guess I should take this opportunity to talk a little bit about the new donor I have found.  A client of mine has a good friend that is willing to be a donor for me and the hopefully second child.  I have not met him in person yet, but have spoken to him on the phone.  He is ready and willing to do whatever I need him to do.  So I talked to my OB about what tests and things that need to be done before we begin inseminations.  Basically since I am not feeling like it is necessary for him to do a full work up (he has 4 healthy kids already) the only thing we need to do is get all the STD tests and HIV etc...  He doesn't have health insurance so we talked about where to send him for the tests and she wrote down specifically what I should ask for.

I am still shooting for having August be the first month I try to get pregnant.  Now that I have this information from my doctor, I need to call donor and talk to him and make sure that he is still cool with that time table.  But I am tracking my cycle this month just to get an idea of when I will ovulate in August so that I can give him some days that I expect I will need him.  I POAS yesterday, which was day 13 I believe, and I didn't test positive for ovulation.  I haven't tested yet this morning, but my cycle has historically been pretty exact so I would imagine that I will test positive either today or tomorrow.  Although I would love it if we could push this cycle back in some way.  See if I continue with the exact 28 day cycle that I have had for the last 5 months then I would be doing inseminations around the 9th and 10th of August.  Here's the problem...I already have a trip scheduled up to my cabin in the mountains for that weekend.  So if we could just get this cycle to be a couple of days later then we would move into a Monday or Tuesday for inseminations which would work MUCH better for my vacationing plans.  :)  We will just have to wait and see. 

The Baby Daddy

So all of us lesbians out there who have gotten pregnant by someone OTHER than a man we were in love with have to deal with this other person/number/vial and how it affects our children's lives. I think we are all smart enough to know that at some point, our children will come to us and say, "Okay so I know you have always said that I am lucky enough to have two mommies, but I just learned in science class that you can't so much make a baby without a man..." What do we do then? This is obviously different for every single couple and every single situation.

This is how it shaped up regarding my son and his "Dad." When we agreed to use Donor as a donor we talked at great length about how we would handle the future. Before The Boy was born we were all in agreement that the donor would be a part of our lives, much like all of our other close friends. But where The Boy was concerned, until he was old enough to really understand and grasp our situation, he would remain just that: a good friend. I remember specifically asking Donor how much he would like to be involved in his future child's life. His answer to me was, "You know how if you go to a park and your sitting on a park bench behind the playground watching the kids play? That is how I would like to be in your lives. You and Ex (that adds a whole other element to it, doesn't it?) will be the ones in the playground with him, raising him, but I will be sitting on the park bench behind you, watching him grow and play." Seemed like a decent answer to me at the time. So we went forward and decided that one day we would explain to him that "friend _____" is really the person who allowed us to have you as our son. We would explain to him that his Moms loved each other very much and had tried to have a baby for so long and that thanks to donor, we were able to bring him into the world and we are so thankful for that.

Well of course things changed once The Boy was actually here. As a baby, The Boy was the spitting image of his father. I often wondered if there was any of me in there (this has changed as he has gotten older). When Donor saw this little boy, his "viewing from afar" attitude changed and he all of a sudden thought that we were in a 3 person relationship and that he had just as much right to make decisions and parent this child as Ex and I had. Obviously this caused some tension. It is not my intention to get into all that has transpired between the 3 of us since The Boy has been here.

One of the original things we decided was that Donor would not be referred to as "Daddy" until much later, when our son was old enough to understand the dynamic of our relationship. As things were tense and battles lines were being drawn and people were digging their heels in the sand, this was something that Donor brought up. He felt like he should get to be known as Dad from the very beginning. He didn't see why that would be a problem. There wasn't another Dad in the picture so it was important for him to have that title. In all honesty, Donor really never saw The Boy and he was so young it was kind of a moot point. Over the years, he has started referring to himself as "Daddy" and I just kind of kept my mouth shut. Pick my battles I told myself. And again, he has seen The Boy MAYBE 5 times in the last year so it really isn't something that comes up too often.

The last time he visited he spoke to Ex after his visit and said that while the visit was lovely, he wondered if I could please start referring to him as Daddy instead of his name when it came to The Boy. Ex came to me and asked me to do this going forward. I told her the truth, "I honestly don't know if I can do that." She explained that since we see him so infrequently, it would just be easier to mutter that word in his presence and then go back to doing what we were doing when he wasn't around. I didn't agree to start calling him that, but I also didn't say I refused. So how I have handled it is that I simply don't refer to him when he's here. I used to say to The Boy, "Go show _______ your new toy..." (and I would use his name, not Daddy). Now I just don't say that. I say, "Why don't you go get your new toy to show off?"

When Ex and I split up, this became even more of an issue for me. Our son is still very young and since he is part of a lesbian family, he is learning that his family is different. However, in mainstream life (school/daycare, friends, other families) he hears a lot about this "Mommy and Daddy" thing. He is cool with the Mommy part, but the other part... See here's the thing. I am very protective of our family unit (even if it is split up) and for The Boy to constantly hear about Mommy and Daddy, I just don't want him to be confused. If he knows Donor as "Daddy," then when he hears these things he will assume that Donor has a bigger place in his life than he does. He will assume he is a parental unit when, in fact, he is not. And where does that leave Ex? And her place in his family? Ex is a great Mom to our son and to belittle her as his parent and let Donor take some of that shine, just makes me sick to my stomach.

So Ex is traveling right now for work and she sent me a text yesterday that said she got a message from Donor and that we need to call him back because he wants to say hi and talk to The Boy. Obviously since The Boy is with me, I have to be the one to make that call. And I didn't call him last night. I thought a lot about why I didn't call and it comes down to one thing. I know he will want me to put The Boy on the phone and them prompt him to say "Hi to Daddy." I just don't know if I can do that. I don't know why I have such strong feelings about this, but I do. I will call him tonight and check in and I will let him talk to The Boy, but I just don't know if I can make myself prompt him to "say hi to Daddy..."

How do you guys out there handle this? Am I making too big a deal out of it, or should I hold onto my convictions and continue to protect the family unit that we have with Mom, Mommy and The Boy? Help!

A Holiday for Two

I am talking about myself and my son.  This was the first Holiday weekend that we did without his Mom here as well.  We had a nice lazy Friday morning just the two of us.  We hung out in bed and watched some TV and then of course, we (he) played some trains.  That evening we ended up having a wonderful mix of people at our house that included The Boy's Mom, my parents, my best gay boyfriends, my 85 year old grandmother and some of my parents' friends.  Random group but it just worked.  We enjoyed lots of yummy food, lots of adult beverages and just had a nice time.  The boy played in his pool and just had a great evening as well.  (Boy pictured in pool above).

Saturday morning I was a little down.  I don't know if it is the post-party letdown, or just the fact that sometimes the mornings are still pretty sad for me.  Once The Boy goes down for his morning nap, it is just me with my thoughts.  This was always when I spent time with the ex.  Lazy mornings of just the two of us after the boy had gone back down for a nap.  So sometimes that is a hard time of day for me.  Fortunately my BFF called me up and we met for a pedicure which just turned the day around.  A nice toe painting job goes a long way in making any day better.  That night I just hung out with my boy.  It was great.  We watched a movie and did some trains and read some books.  We goofed off and ate dinner late and just had a great night.  The second pic of him was taken late Saturday afternoon as he was just hanging out in his crib having some quiet time with his trains.  He looks like such a big boy in this picture.

Sunday brought normal family chaos.  We met to get all 5 grand kids together this morning to attempt to get a picture of all of them for my father's birthday (this was NOT an easy thing to do to say the least), which we were celebrating later tonight (Sunday).  Amazingly enough the pictures were fairly painless and we were able to get 3 different poses of all of the kids looking decent.  I found that amazing.  Big props to the guy the took the picture.  He was high-fiving all the kids and then jumping back and they loved it.  Of course The Boy has a train in his hand, but at least he sat where he was supposed to.  Then a few hours later we went over to my brother's house to celebrate my Dad's birthday.  I am trying to keep my family talk to a minimum on this blog but suffice it to say, it is always an interesting evening.  The last picture is of all 5 kids enjoying an ice cream cone after dinner at my brother's house this evening.

Hope everyone had a safe and fun holiday!

It's started already

The boy woke up from his nap and after I had changed his diaper (uhggg!) and gotten him dressed he told me he wanted to get back in his bed.  I figured, whatever, and put him in there.  I left and was cleaning up around the house and I just went back into his room to ask him if he was ready to get up yet.

I walked in and he is laying on his back, head at the wrong side of his bed, with his right arm all the way down into his diaper.  He looked up at me and smiled.  I said, "Hi honey.  Whatcha doing?"  He grinned and proclaimed, "I paying with my pee pee."  So you are my son, so you are...  I thought it about for a second and smiled back and said, "Okay, have fun."  As I walked out of the room he called, "Bye Mommy."  "Bye Baby," I answered back.

Bye baby indeed...hello little boy.

Happy 4th of July

I hope everyone has a happy and safe holiday.  Easy on the fireworks; here in California we already have WAY more fires than we can handle.  Have a wonderful day with friends and family.  In honor of the holiday I will offer up my first official picture of The Boy on my blog.  I am sure my 4 readers will really appreciate it.  :)

The Boy and his eating

So when The Boy was born he weighed 7 lbs.  He was always a fat little dude.  People used to joke that my breast milk must be made out of cream.  He had rolls upon rolls upon rolls of precious baby fat.  I remember when he used to be in the Bjorn I would squish the little rolls of fat above his kneecaps.  For a reference point, at 9 months of age he weighed in at 19.1 lbs.

Right around that time he got a nasty flu bug.  He couldn't keep anything down for days.  It got pretty bad.  The only thing he wanted was his milk and his doctors said that was horrible for his stomach.  (A stupid Mommy tried to challenge this concept once and was almost immediately proven that the doctors did indeed know what they were talking about on this one).  So we went on what was the first of many a hunger strike in his life.  To this day, this one was the worst.  I remember we FINALLY found that he would drink some chicken broth.  He was about to be checked into the hospital for dehydration at that point and I was following him around with a medicine dropper full of water and squeezing it into his mouth whenever he would come in my path.  But finally he took a couple of spoonfuls of chicken broth off my spoon, and then he took several spoonfuls of it, and eventually he drank it directly out of his bottle.  That chicken broth saved us that time.  But for some reason, after this, we had to go back to literally square one with food.  After that flu he could not keep ANYTHING down.  So we had to go back to rice cereal.  And then add in one vegetable, and then another, and then one fruit...  We had to go back to the beginning and start all over again.  At over 9 months old.  We moved forward from there, but that was the first notice of anything being weird.

Around a year of age I began to realize that he wasn't swallowing anything of substance.  He could swallow his baby food just fine, but he was a year old and couldn't swallow a cheerio.  He would continually put them in his mouth and move them around in there and then they would just come back out of his mouth and fall out.  He would continue like he didn't know anything had happened and put another one in his mouth.  He just kept going like this.  He thought he was eating.  He just wasn't getting anything of substance.  We talked to our pediatrician at a year old who recommended an amazing food specialist.

This would be the beginning of a long term relationship with this Pediatric Clinic and my son.  He still goes there two days a week for speech therapy.  But this was when his journey began.  He saw a "food specialist," and we would come in at lunch time and she would evaluate his "suck, chew, swallow" technique and try and give us tips on how to do things differently.  This woman was amazing and would answer all of our questions and try and make me feel better during the process (hard thing to deal when your kid doesn't know HOW to eat).

For what seemed like forever, I made this boy food every single night and put it in front of him to watch him try and eat it.  And every single night after he "ate" I would clean up virtually every single thing that I put on his plate.  I had no concept of kids that actually finished things that were put in front of them.  Again, for reference, at 18 months of age, he weighed in at 19.4 lbs.  Gained virtually nothing in 9 months.  I won't bore you with all the checkups, but as of last week, at 2 1/2 years old, he only weighs 23 lbs.  That's only 4 pounds heavier than he was when he was 9 months old.  My vain in life people...this child's weight sometimes seems to be my life's mission.

I remember that shredded cheese was the first thing he was able to swallow.  After that he moved onto things like tuna salad, or chicken salad.  Stayed with the shredded theme for a while.  My son was also VERY late in getting teeth.  So he didn't have a whole lot of teeth to chew with at this point either.  As the teeth came in, so did the workings of his muscles.  He slowly started adding more and more into what he was able to chew and eat.  I would say that by the time he was two, and his teeth had all come in, he could eat chew and swallow like any other kid his age.  As of today he is physically able to eat anything he wants.  He's two, so he makes that challenging and that is another post in and of itself.  But he can chew and swallow normally.  Although I sometimes do notice that his mouth gets tired of chewing and he seems to take a little break and talk for a while, or play with his food, and then go back and eat more.  He takes a long time to eat a meal and is definitely more of a grazer than a "sit down and chow" kind of guy.

But during it all I learned that the most important thing I could do as a Mom was to never let my son know that he had any issues with eating at all.  We kept dinnertime fun.  We left the mood light.  We let him play in his food (a tool to allow his jaw to relax in between eating so he doesn't get too tired and quit), and we NEVER ever told him that he had to eat or finish anything.  When he said he was done, we obeyed that.  He set the tone.  So every night he thought that he sat down and had a normal dinner and ate like everyone else.  To this day, he has no clue that he eats any different than anyone else out there.  He doesn't know that he has any issues with food (although, dear god, does he have issues), and he enjoys dinnertime.  We both do.  We sit down every single night, just the two of us now, and we have dinner together and some times we sing songs, and some times we read one of his books together, and sometimes I just listen to the endless rambling thoughts that come out of his head but that still make no sense.  (Run-on much?)  Food itself?  My biggest challenge in life where it relates to my son.  But dinnertime?  My most favorite time of the day.  I guess that's saying something.