I'm not sure what to say.

I'm running ans swimming pretty regularly. I hope to start training for a marathon in October. Either Eugene or Vancouver.

I love my kids. It's hard. Really hard. I still don't feel like I can bitch about it. The whole I worked so hard for this and almost didn't get. Beggars can't be choosers right?

Herbie is now eating cat food I need to go.

I go and have two kids and I neglect the blog. The blog in which I lamented for years about my inability have to have children. Cliche? Maybe. Honestly, most days I'm lucky to brush my teeth. Seriously. It's hard. It's hard living the life I always wanted. You see when you get the life you always wanted it might not be all you imagined. The big things are here. That's what matters.

I wasn't prepared for just how fucking tired I would be. I certainly wasn't prepared for having days where I struggle at liking being a parent.

I've been to hell and back. I've got my dreams. I just wish I could drop the guilt about the fact even dreams are hard work.

When is it OK for me to complain about being a parent? I suspect never.

Infertility took so much including my ability to bitch about my children.

Ruby is such a good sleeper. I was strict about her routine. Mostly becasue it involved perfectly timed meds and feeds. Things could not get messed up. Herbie on the other hand. He only naps in his car seat. Mostly because we're on the go for Ruby most days. It's so bad though that we can't spend a day at home.

So my new routine everyday is get out the door by 8:45. Starbucks drive thru, preschool drop off, gym. Substitute park for preschool and gym on some days. The thing is I love sipping my yuppie coffee while pushing my kids in the swings. This is what I wanted. This is what we went thru hell for.

Life is pretty damn good. Who cares if I'm on lexapro and drink a bit too much wine. I love my kids and they love me. Plus I actually got to HAVE KIDS.

This could all change when they both wake from their naps and won't stop screaming. That's when the wine comes in.

I know I'm not supposed to complain I wanted this. It's just a bit hard some days. Chris ahs been on call this week. I haven't gotten more than 5 hours of sleep total a night since Thursday. No one is sleeping well in our house. Someone is always awake. I think even the house it self is tired.

Part of it is Chris being oncall. Part of it due to developmental milestons. Fucking milestones. Seriously neither of them sleep well when they are going through one. Herbie is rolling over and babbling non-stop. Ruby is talking in longer sentences. I feel like they have both achieved some new things and it's time to sleep again.



I did manage to swim 2100 yards and run 3 miles yesterday. Today is my rest day. Tomorrow I have 4 miles and 2100ish yards on my schedule.

**** I edited this. I realized my running goal was totally silly. Not attainable at all this year. I'm not one to set myself up for failure.*****
I hate them, but I'm gonna try this year.

1. Get down to pre- first pregnancy weight. That's 41 lbs to be exact. 21 lbs pre-Herbie pregnancy. 31 to pre-Ruby. 41 to pre-pregnancy number 1. Yes those numbers are correct. I'm tall I carry weight well.

2 Run 1500 miles that an average of 28 miles a week.
3. Swim 41600 yards that's 8000 a week.
4. Weight train at least once a week.
5.Take a trip ALL BY MYSELF.
6. Knit every one in the family a sweater and a pair of socks.
7. Sew Chris two shirts.
8. LAUNDRY. Get that shit under control.
9. Bake three loaves of bread a week.
10. Get my gardens back to their former glory.


I think that's about it.

My thoughts those long days while she was so terribly sick....
"If she lives I promise to hug her and kiss her every day."
"If she lives I promise to cherish every moment."
"If she lives I promise to be the most caring and compassionate Mom."
"If she lives I promise to let live her life to the fullest."

I was very careful to not promise to give her whatever she wanted. Even when trying to come to terms with fact that she might die I was very careful to not spoil her.

These days all those promises are hard. Some harder than others. On Wednesday I had to put her in her room and shut the door. Tantrums have come to our house. They are full of the tenacity and fire that she showed all those days she was on fighting for her life. I can see it in her eyes when she rolling on the ground screaming. I can see it in her eyes when I tell her no. When I tell her she needs ask nicely and say please she gets this look on her face that is very clearly saying, "Fuck you I survived. Just give me the damn chocolate almonds NOW!"

Then other moments she laughs. She jokes with us. She gives the best hugs that her tiny little body can give. She loves to hold hands. I often wonder if that's because the first month of her life that's all we could do with her. I would sit for hours holding her hand or stroking her shin.

Many times this week I have broke down in tears. When I made all those promises I didn't think about a time when I just wanted her to shut the fuck up and take a nap. I've got a heavy dose guilt to go with the normal issues of parenting a toddler.

I am having serious issues not buying Ruby everything she could possibly want for Christmas. I don't want to raise a spoiled brat. I do think she's been through a bit more than the average 2.5 year old. Why can't she have a Tidmouth Shed and a Scooter? Is it so bad that I want her to have things she enjoys? I have no idea why I'm so weird about this. It's Christmas and she's in the age group where Christmas is magical.

I don't want Ruby to get special treatment (outside of the medical community) because of her story. On the other hand I feel the need to yell at the top of my lungs "She almost died every day for 2 months". The thing is she won't remember that. I do. I think of it every day. Every time she coughs, I lift her shirt to see if she's retracting. I check her coloring. I get so scared. The other day I asked Chris if he was still worried about her dieing. He said he wasn't. He couldn't tell me how he got to the point where he wasn't worried. I worry everyday. So many times I made the promise that if she lived I would cherish every moment. Cherishing every moment is really fucking hard. When she's screaming about Molly or Gordon falling off the track, it's really hard. It's really hard when all I want to do is go to the bathroom alone. It's hard when I need some me time and she needs some Mommy time. There is this little voice in my head that says "She might not be here tomorrow, you need to be with her." Over two years later I still live in fear of having to tell her it's OK if she stops fighting. I don't want to ever have to tell her that again.

I need a class on parenting your miracle child that had after going through infertility.

Now we have Herbie. This cute bundle of love and smiles. He's perfect. I also don't worry about him. That is until I start thinking about how something could go wrong because I'm not worrying enough.

So, in short I feel guilty for worrying to much about one child and not enough about the other.

Also what the hell do you get a 3 month old for Christmas?

Ruby went to bed tonight with no screaming or tears. It's been a rough nine weeks with her going to bed. Wednesday night she cried for 5 hours. Screamed actually. She finally passed out at 1am. If nothing else the girl is STUBBORN. I know the PC term is willful. Screw that my kid with one lung screamed for 5 hours because she didn't want to go to bed. She's stubborn.

Don't get me wrong. We laid down with her. Sang a bunch of Thomas and Sesame Street songs. We hugged. We rubbed her back. We told her she was safe. We tried to help her "calm her body". We encouraged her to "use her words." We even gave her snacks to keep her energy up.
She is two and was pissed off at the world.

Tonight though she gave us all kisses. Made all her engines (Thomas and his friends) go potty and went to sleep.

I am sure the whole big sister not the center of the world thing has a lot to do with it. Chris and I have a little PTSD when it comes to bedtime lately. Really. I'm not kidding. It's been bad.

Morphine withdrawal has nothing on being two and getting a new little brother.

PS I would like to add we have tried everything. We talked to the pediatrician. We talked to a parenting coach. Read some books. Talked to friends. Cut out her nap. Added the nap back in. Changed the bedtime routine. Moved it later. Moved it earlier. We are loving parents. She just looses it at bedtime. The rest of the time she has been great with Herbie coming into our lives. Bedtime is when it all comes out. It's so hard for me as her Mom. We're doing our best. Until this passes I'm going to be drinking lots of wine. If she starts vomiting pee soup all over us, all bets are off.

We've had some issues with our domain starling.cx which hosts one of my email addresses. I'm not going to pretend to understand it nor do I care to. I finally had enough brain power (sleep) to figure out how to look up stored passwords on fire fox. Long story short I fixed my live journal account.

So at 5:30 this morning Herbie woke us up. Which is a normal waking time. I turned to Chris and asked if I slept through another waking. Nope. Herbie slept from 9pm to 5am. I have just jinxed it though. He now will NEVER sleep for more than 2 hours at a time, I know it.

I hope to be back in this space more often. I've missed it. For now though I need to pack a diaper bag for two kids. Load up the huge double running stroller. Get the kids dressed and fed. Then head out for a low key 5K run at a friends house. It's an hour of prep for a 30 minute run these days.

We are supplementing and I'm perfectly OK with it. Herbie only gained 3 ounces this week. Which is the bare minimum that is healthy. To do this I had to feed him EVERY two hours around the clock. The clock startes when you start a feed. So if he takes 45 minues to eat that leaves me one hour and fifteen minutes to sleep, eat, go to the bathroom, and care for Ruby. It's not possible with Chris going back to work. It's also not possible for my sanity. We tried. I fed him every two hours for almost three weeks. I'm not making enough milk. He is hungry at times when my boobs are empty. So then I have a cranky baby. Last night I broke down and gave him some formula. He wouldn't calm down and I had nothing left. The formula satisfied him. I got to sleep from 10pm to 2 am.

The truth is I was struggling. As in Chris was worried and thought my lexapro needed to be updated. Seriously, I was not functioning. Thought of him going back to work had me so upset and scared. I can't really describe it other than that I was in a downward spiral and the lack of sleep wasn't helping.

We are taking the "some breast milk is better than none" approach. We're going to give formula when I can't satisfy him and then one full feed at night. Chris will be able to take a night time feed now.

I've accepted this as my reality and I'm ready to move on. Plus I get a bit more sleep.