I've become a craft supply hoarder.
I used to be super crafty, just check out my DIY section, but sometime between the debilitating morning sickness a year ago, a little human stretching my body in ways that should be punishable by law, pushing a 8lb kid out of my vagina and having my once perfectly perky breasts turn into udders, I've lacked all motivation to create anything, let alone photograph it. I just created my third freaking person. Hell... I couldn't even find time to write a blog post up until recently.
My little writer. Documenting her life already... in scribbles. Making momma proud.
Wake up earlier, you say?? What a brilliant idea. Other than the fact that Abel has to have a boob in his mouth 24/7, once said boob is removed, you would think I cut off his leg. Literally, took a saw and was sawing back and forth, because the way this kid screams is that horrendous... something HAS to be torturing him.
I've created this monster, you say?? Well... a big EF you about sums up my thoughts on that sentiment.
We've hit that dreaded stage. The one where sleep is non-existant and all we do is pray that the crying stops. Some call it sleep regression... I call it FML.
Remember in this post, I said all that mumbo jumbo about eating my words. WELP... serves me right. When I was pregnant with Abel, an IGer posted about her 4-5 month old who was in sleep regression. They were trying the "cry-it-out" method. WHY oh WHY did I open my big fat mouth?! I'll tell you why; because I, like many others, thought that because I have two kids, I know it all. I don't remember what I said... something about it's not as bad as it seems, a mention of just riding it out, you'll miss the days he wants to cuddle and be consoled... blah blah blobity freaking blah. Why did I say this nonsense you ask? Oh, because at the time I had an almost 4 year old and almost 2 year old whom I just put to bed by merely uttering the words Good Night, and they were fast asleep. Yes... it's funny how fast we forget what it's like to be in the moment. And here I am.... in the moment... eating my words... wanting to punch myself for ever thinking I knew anything, nor had the right to put my judgmental two cents (sense?) in
About the only thing worse than not being able to comfort Abel, is watching Craig try to comfort him. You see... Craig isn't really the baby type. (Go ahead and judge if you want... but not all men are. If yours is... be happy, don't gloat cause it really pisses the rest of us off. It's why you get talked about behind your back.) He can't handle the crying... like literally starts breaking out in hives if Abel starts crying when he has him. I'd like to say that he's lying, or making this up (and I might mutter something like that to myself here and there), but the rashes don't lie. Which means he's pretty much no help in the baby calming part... add that I breastfeed and the word useless comes to mind. (referring to calming baby, not in general...)
I see so many people write long-winded gushing posts about helpful hubbys (gah I despise that word) which makes me want to honk my horn and flip the bird... but since we're not driving, using a hashtag like #youreannoying, might be more appropriate... but most likely not, because either the hashtag nazi's or minions would come out... causing way more ruckus than necessary. For real though... all those helpful husbands posts gets my panties all ruffled (in a wad?) (and not in the good way!) "Well if Cindy Lou's hubby can send her on a spa day and take care of little Johnny, why can't you" and then I get all pissy, and he gets home from a 12 hour day and I'm all like... "I want a spa day", and he's like... "we havn't even paid rent.... spa day?" and I'm like... "Cindy's husband brings her flowers and tells her she's beautiful and changes the babies diaper and sends her on spa days" and he's like... "fuck.... Cindy Lou... who?? I just walked in the door woman.. get off my nuts."
You know those moms, who's photo's on Facebook look like a damn Pinterest board, homegrown vegetable stew for dinner, isn't my garden pretty... we picked the veggies as a fam and then all gathered in the kitchen to cook as a family; homemade fruit snack- vegan, gluten free, sugar free #amazing; Parenting Wins: How to get kids to eat their spinach with a smile on their face. It's seriously like this race, who's kid is smarter and/or healthier... DAAYYUUMMMM.... I took a shower today ANDDD kept the kids alive! Do I get an award for that?
I can't compete. I'm waving my white flag. A Pinterest Housewife I am not.
I know this FML phase will pass... and I'll forget about it, just like I have done twice before. Which is the reason I've refrained from posting any sort of status bitching via Facebook about it. The last thing I want to hear on 2 hours of sleep with a screaming infant and bickering toddlers, is that "it's all worth it"... "you'll miss these days".... "it'll be over soon".... "sending positive energy"... I get it, been there, done that. Do I really want to be that outcast mom who says "EF the positive energy... send me a bottle of Captain's so I can sail away". Yes... yes I do.
On a side note: Adelyn has named her Felt Doll.... wait for it... ready?? Gina... short for Vagina.
Adelyn: Her name is Gina.
Craig: Are you sure it's not GEEEENA
Adelyn: No it's Gina, like vagina.
Add the fact that Stone likes to wiggle his butt singing "Shaking my wienah, shaking my wienah" and I'm surprised social services isn't knocking on my door.
** If you're a Pinterest Housewife... I hope you don't mind my poking fun. It's pure envy. #sorrynotsorry
BTW. Incase you havn't heard, Google Readers is going buh-bye come July. So come follow me on Bloglovin'. It's a simple platform that lets you keep up with all your favorite blogs! I've been using it for forevaaa... they even have an app for it.
** for those that have inquired, my handmade dolls are available @ stitchedvintage.com