Mom-fession

Most moms are aware of a thing called "mommy guilt". You basically get "mommy guilt" when you do something selfish - for yourself as opposed to for your kids. I tend to get "mommy guilt" over the silliest little things.

So here is my latest mom-fession - and yes - it gave me a little case of the "mommy guilt". I checked my kids into the childcare at the gym and after doing a very quick half-hearted workout, I headed down to the hot tub. Ahhh...finally....10 minutes of pure relaxation with no-one screaming in my ear, hitting me, or pulling my hair! Bonus...it was right when the gym first opened, so I had it all to myself!!!!

I must be crazy!

Exactly one week ago, I came home from my 2 year old's weekly playgroup feeling like the I must be the most insane person on the face of the earth. Anyone who owns a 2 year old is very familiar with daily power struggles, temper tantrums, and other forms of public humiliation. I have an especially strong willed two year old. I have gotten to the point where I almost don't want to go out in public because I know that at some point he will throw some kind of fit, and I will go insane and look like an idiot.
Anyway, last week at playgroup was no exception. Mason was doing his typical "I'm not going to listen to my mommy" routine the entire day. I felt like I was constantly telling him to stop, and yelling at him, and attempting to pick him up (with the two month old in my other hand) and move him away from whatever bad thing he was doing. When I got home, I was exhausted! And then it dawned on me. I am the only mom in my playgroup who gets this frazzled. I am the only one who raises my voice. I am the only one who looks like she is seconds from jumping off the ledge (or putting my head through a wall). I thought that I must be a really bad mom, or I must be doing something really wrong discipline-wise to make me the only monster mommy in the playgroup. Then I thought, maybe it is my kid's fault. Maybe I just have a really bad kid, and everyone else's kids are really good.
I found out tonight, at our "Mom's night out" that none of my theories are correct. I am not a bad mom, or a bad disciplinarian, my kid might be a little bad-but not too abnormal for a two year old. No-none of these things are the problem. The problem is, I am not on anti-depressants. Over half of the moms in my child's playgroup are on anti-depressants. The conversation started with two moms discussing their medications with each other, and suddenly the whole room was chiming in about which meds they liked and didn't like. The whole thing made me wonder...at what point does stressed out turn in to needing medication? How does one know they are to the point where they need to take medication just to help them get through the day? Gee, do I need medication - or am I just getting that old high school "everyone's doing it" kind of feeling?

Job Search

I consider myself to be a pretty good employee. I have a lot of different work experiences, and I have a degree! WHY CAN'T I FIND A FREAKING JOB????
The problem is that I have kids. No one wants to hire someone who has kids. Of course, they aren't going to come out and admit that-because that would be wrong and controversial, and possibly even illegal. Its the only thing I can think of. I have filled out so many applications that I am getting really sick of myself!
Before I had kids I would fill out an application and either get hired on the spot or at least get a call for an interview almost right away. I know that the job market is particularly shitty these day and that could be part of the problem, but I know that my availability is also a problem to employers. They see on the application that I have limited availability (namely-I can't work nights or weekends anymore). What can I say? I'm a mom. Daycares aren't open at night (not that I would be making enough at the minimum wage job I am going to have to settle for to constitute paying a daycare or babysitter) and they aren't open on weekends. My mom and most of my friends are too busy on weekends (not that I would want to put that burden on them) and my mom-in-law (my most favorite babysitter) is going to start working overnights on the same days of the week my husband works...doesn't help my situation at all! My husband is a cop so he works nights, overnights, weekends, and holidays....guaranteed. Therefore, I can't. Unfortuntately, employers could care less about that.
Argh!!!! I just need a job....one that will work with my husband's schedule. Is this too much to ask??????????

The skinny on being...well...skinny!

Fat people get all the sympathy, there I said it. I've been wanting to get that off my chest for a long time. I'm sure some people will find offense in that last statement, but give me a chance to explain.
All of my life I've been skinny the skinny girl. In middle school, I was VERY skinny. And you know what, being skinny wasn't as awesome as everyone thinks it is. I know....I know....you're thinking "To hell if I'm going to feel bad for the skinny girl". But that's just it. No one cares how their comments about weight will affect a skinny person. Everyone is all sensative and mindful of what they say about weight issues when they are talking to fat people, but with skinny people...its pretty much anything goes.
The prime example of this is when people say, "OMIGOD, you are soooooo skinny - I HATE YOU!" I understand that they think they are paying the skinny person a huge compliment by saying this, but for me it was a total diss. It was almost as if they were telling me that I don't deserve to be skinny. Comments like these make me feel as if I have to apologize to people for being skinny. People seem to assume that just because I am skinny I shouldn't be allowed to have any issues with my body image. I feel like I have to give a disclaimer before complaining that my clothes aren't fitting me right when it has only been 10 weeks after having a baby. I know as soon as the words leave my mouth someone will say "Oh yeah right, what are you talking about....you are soooo skinny....I HATE YOU!"
Did I mention yet how much I hate the "I hate you for being skinny" comment. I'd love to be able to respond by saying that I work extremely hard to achieve my body-but I don't, at least not yet. And wouldn't you know it, people hate you even more when you tell them that you don't spend every waking moment in the gym. Sure, I work out and try to watch what I eat but I am by no means a calorie counting, nutrition label analyzing, food-scale toting, finger down her throat, gym-rat kind of gal.
I really thought I had it bad when I was in middle school and people asked me straight-up if I was anorexic (even my teachers!). Those comments actually prompted me to eat the worst kind of foods in order to try to gain weight! I felt like I must really look like a freak of nature if people thought I had an eating disorder. In fact, I don't think I own a single picture of myself from that time in my life because I would refuse to get in front of a camera. I came to hate the way I looked. I saw myself as a stork-tall, skinny, awkard.
I also thought that as I got older it would go away - or that maybe I would gain weight and people wouldn't view me as the skinny girl. Wrong, wrong, wrong. After having each of my babies, I lost the weight in no time and I got the "I hate you!" comments ten-fold. In fact, right now I am only 10 weeks post-partum with my second child. Sure, I can fit into my pre-pregnancy jeans again, though they certainly don't fit as good as they did before. I can't however wear alot of my pre-pregnancy shirts yet. I still have loose skin and a little pooch in my belly. I know it isn't a big deal, and that I should be able to loose it once I get into a gym routine, but I am self-concious about it, but I know if I were to say that to anyone I'd never hear the end of it. I just don't think its fair that I am not entitled to body image issues because I am 5'8" and 123 lbs. Those numbers don't equal perfect by any means.
Don't get me wrong, I didn't write this for sympathy-just understanding. Perhaps the next time you want to compliment a woman on her skinny body you can come up with something a little more appropriate than "I hate you".

Update on Dexter

My dad called me a couple weeks ago and asked if Dexter could come live with him. I had asked him if he would like to take Dexter right after the bite occurred, but at that time he said no. I guess the more he thought about it, the more he came to realize that a dog would actually be a great companion for him and my grandma (whom is currently suffering from Alzheimer's Disease and living with my dad). I was pretty sad the day that he came to pick Dexter up, but by the next day I was feeling much better. I actually felt a little guilty that I wasn't as sad as I'd expected to be with him gone. We visisted my dad on Thanksgiving, and Dexter really seems to like living there. When we left, he started to follow us out to the car, so I told him to go back into the house, which he did without thinking twice. I watched him through the window as he found a cozy spot on the couch to settle into, he was completely fine. It is also great for my grandma because it gives her something to focus on during the day. Dexter seems to get a lot more attention there than he did here as well. I think that this was the best decision for everyone and I feel so relieved that I don't have to worry about him hurting my children.

A "dog-gone" hard decision

Yesterday, my little dog bit my 2 year old son, Mason in the face. I have no idea what may have caused this attack to occur. I was sitting in my living room talking to a friend on the phone. Mason was playing in our playroom (which isn't really seperated from the living room). The dog was also in the playroom, but he was not lying in an area where I could see him. Mason got up from where he was playing and walked out of my field of vision over to where the dog was lying. Seconds later I heard the dog growl aggressively and I knew he had bit my son.

The dog bit Mason on the cheek right next to his mouth. While the wound was pretty minor, I don't feel comfortable with the fact that the dog seemed to think it was okay to bite him in the first place. In addition, this is not the first time the dog has bitten Mason. Common sense would tell someone that if it probably won't be the last. And I don't want to wait and see how bad it might be next time. At the same time, I ot Dexter as a puppy four years ago, and I love him very much.

In general, he is a great dog. He is not an overly sensative or aggressive dog. He doesn't shed or bark. He is completely house and crate trained. He is very sweet, he loves to sit on your lap or lie next to you on the couch, but he also gives you your space when you need it. He wasn't even a beggar (that is until I left him at my mom's house a few years ago when Paul and I went to Boston on vacation - he learned how to beg there. He also learned how to surf that summer!) The only bad thing about the dog is that he would bite my husband when he felt threatened by him. I know that the reason is does this is because my husband would hit him as a puppy. Paul always had a reason for hitting him, but the dog didn't always know that. For instance, Dexter would pee on the floor and hours later Paul would find the pee and go find Dexter and hit him. To Dexter, it seemed he was getting hit for no reason what-so-ever. He didn't remember that he'd peed on the floor hours ago and that Paul had just found it. So, naturally, the dog started to defend himself. Dexter never turned on me, so I wrongly assumed that he wouldn't turn on the children either.

Now I am faced with a hard decision. Do I find the dog a new home, or do I gamble with my children's safety? The thing that really bothers me is that each time Mason was bit, he wasn't really provoking the dog that bad. The first time Dexter bit Mason was when Dexter was trying to eat something off the floor and Mason told him "no" and reached down to pull him back. The second time, I don't know exactly what happened, but Mason didn't say anything to Dexter. I am guessing that maybe Mason layed down next to Dexter and scared him. I know what the right decision is, but knowing doesn't make it any easier. I know I need to find the dog a new home.