Good Enough

Yes, I’m still here, although I think all my friends and associates are going to be through with me soon if I don’t start answering the phone, and e-mails.

Life is just unstable with a newborn, what can I say?

I’m surviving. The kids are getting food. The mommy is getting showers on most days. The baby is getting chubby.

She’s a serious eater, she takes her milk very seriously, and no one can feed her but this gal sitting in this seat.

So I’m busy. Like mostly every hour I’m busy. But I pumped for the first time tonight and have yet to see how my husband did getting her to take a bottle. I think he did fine because I don’t hear any screaming and she is serious about her food and I think it’s the end result that matters.

I need to go sleep while I can!

xo

Eve 

I’m relearning that new baby= only having one arm available at any given moment. Such as these… 

Open an apple juice bottle- the trick is to hold it between your knees to prevent the bottle from turning.

Type-this one takes some time, but it can be done.

Take a 2 year old to the potty.

Read. 

Talk on the phone.

Pour cereal.

Hook the dog up to her run. (that was tricky, and she wanted to lick all over Annie)

so what can you do one handed? 

Nope.

It doesn’t.

But I sure wish it would. I wish that everything and everyone would just slow down.

That no one had errands, or illness, or work. 

I wish the summer would stop flying by.  Then I wouldn’t have to miss this rare, gorgeous Washington weather.

I don’t want my kids to miss out on all the things we “could” be doing.

But they are.

They are because even though mentally I’m ready to take on the world, with four children in tow, my body wants to stay put in the horizontal position.

When I was pregnant, my mind was mushy, and I couldn’t even wrap my brain around going out with the three kids. Now the clouds have cleared and I feel so able. I don’t feel scared like I did when I had my third baby. I remember feeling secretly scared for that day my husband left and went back to work. I kept waiting for that feeling to come around this time. I really don’t feel apprehensive at all. But my body is not quite there…every day I feel a little stronger.

I thought I could go to book club last night. The clock struck 8pm. I couldn’t will my body out of bed. Although the new babe which I have for blogging purposes deemed “Annie” stayed up until 1 am.

I’m almost ready to take on the world, but can’t it slow down just a tad for me?

My kids and I would be ever so grateful.

This house is trying my patience.

The front door won’t shut.

It’s now duct taped closed and I will have to go out the garage.

I feel really safe and secure with duct tape holding it closed. Nobody’s going to get through that barricade.

I had to do it.

I had to go ahead and make the appointment.

This pregnancy needed to be officially validated, and I was tired of waiting for The State to decide if they were going to insure us or not.

Yesterday I had a very unpleasant conversation with one of the State Employees. She was extremely unhelpful and annoyed. “They expect us to be accountants.” She said. “We are not accountants. I can’t understand all these receipts.”

“Is there somewhere where we can all sit down together and go over them?” I asked.

“No. We are a virtual company. There is no office…I”m going to have to look at all this after work. I don’t have time to do it here.”

“You don’t have time to do work at work?” I asked. That goes to show you what a well-oiled machine our Human Services Department is.

So today as I lay staring up at the ceiling and trying to remember to breathe, dollar signs began flashing on the florescent lights in front of me.

One Pa*p Sme*ar…cha-ching!

We need a sample in the cup please…cha-ching!

Let’s see if we can hear a heart beat…cha-ching ching!

One Blood Sample, seven tests ordered for no good reason…cha-ching!

I found myself saying “No, we don’t need to test for any extra abnormalities. Just the basics.”

“How about HIV?”

“No, not necessary. I’ve had about 5 or 6 in my lifetime. They’re always negative.”

“How about AFP?”

“I don’t think so. I mean what can they do if it’s a positive?”

“Nothing.”

“Then no.”

“What about genetic testing.”

“That’ll be a no as well. It sounds pricey.”

But hey!  If I paid up front at the office I received a 10% discount! How’s that for good news?

No, the good news is they did find a heart beat. I love to hear that sound each time I go in. It reminds me that it’s all worth it. No one can really put a price on our baby. Though I did leave the office with a considerably lighter wallet.

Meanwhile back at the ranch I forgot that I had three children from two different families coming over for my weekly babysitting swap. 

“Uh Mr.Good? On top of getting Buster off to school and taking care of our 2 youngens, while I’m at the baby doctor’s, there will be a few additions…Zach and Zoe will be here at around 9am…Bella comes around 9:20 xoxo luv ya!”

Hello!?

Are you still there?

Sigh. Why is it that we forget? And forget so quickly, the torments of pregnancy.

I don’t remember feeling this sad with the last one. I was blaming the weather. I’ve never been pregnant in the Northwest.

My husband assures me that indeed I was this emotional, this exhausted with the last one.

“Yes you cried just as often.” He told me. “Yes you were this tired.”

“I know I was this tired.” I snapped. “But really? Did I feel this hopeless?”

“Yes.”

Why do we forget how it was? I’ve been freaking out. I know all about PPD. But what about PD. Partum Depression. I’m much happier after I get the baby out of my womb and into my arms. I know I shouldn’t even complain. It’s not like I’m puking. Some poor women are throwing up their entire pregnancies. Some have back problems. Some get carpal tunnel and can’t sleep at night because of bad circulation. Some are confined to bed rest. Some have fertility problems and just getting pregnant is a struggle. Then there are those that must find their children through adoption.

I’m pregnant.

Why am I hating this so much.

I guess anything as wonderful as a child takes sacrifice.

My children bring me so much joy, I can’t even put into words how blessed I am and how excited I am to add another to my rockin’ family. That’s what I’m clinging too.

Because I’m so sad, tired and pathetic right now.

I seem to have developed some sort of allergy to the computer recently. Maybe it’s the nausea, lack of sleep, and constant grouchiness that are causing me to avoid it. Maybe it’s the holiday season and I just have so much to do blah blah blah! 

Who am I kidding?

I don’t really have anything pressing to do for the holidays. I’m sure I’ll be helping cook some of the meals, but that’s no big deal. I don’t have presents to buy because I’ve already bought them. We lead a fairly simple life and there is no fancy gift extravaganza going on in the Good Family.

I have to admit that when I’m pregnant I become extremely tired, and lazy. For those of you that know me, you may wonder how a person could get any more lazy than Eve Good. Well, meet Eve Good on pregnancy.

I spend most of it in the horizontal position. I love to lay around. I have no motivation to get up and take the kids anywhere fun. Poor things. It’s not their fault.

Being at the computer in my house must be done downstairs in a vertical position. This is why blogging is not my favorite pass time.

Good news is that Mr.Good has stepped up and taken over laundry duties. I think he was tired of washing his underwear in the sink. Bless his heart.

Mondays are rough…Mondays have the misfortune of landing on a day of the week where schedules have to be resumed, and lives have to be managed. I hate Mondays.

There are two ways to hate a Monday…the “Monday that comes after an amazing weekend, had a wonderful time and don’t want this happy bubble to burst type of loathing” Mondays. Or there is the “had a lonely, unproductive, house is trashed, start the week out with low spirits and tornado aftermath damage control” no good Monday.

If I’m playing Polyanna, as I often attempt to do, then at least I had the former. I had an amazing weekend. The only thing that would make it euphoric is if I had a cleaning team come through and do the dirty work I was to busy funning to do.

My house is trashed because I was having fun. That’s what I’ll tell any visitors or landlord’s that decide to stop by. 

Friday Mr.Good decided ( with my help) to take a long overdue day off to make up for all the three day weekends in which he left me home crying. In all seriousness, I know he didn’t want to go to work either, but leave it to me to take it personally. So Friday was his big three day weekend of the year. To celebrate, I left him home alone with the children for most of the day.

Don’t be a hater, I had plans people! Big big plans! I had last minute details to attend to, because that night was the first get together for our little with big potential blog site. Maybe you noticed it, or heard about it around town? I have to say, the women who blog on the site are amazing! Maybe it’s because I had more time to get to know them individually, but I had more fun here than any party BlogHer threw. I wanted to stay all night. I wanted to find some late night greasy diner and take these women with me. I did not want this night to end. I will say that my friend Kathryn cushioned the blow of arriving home by demonstrating her personal interpretation of The Young Ambassador’s. Very entertaining, and I wish you all could see it. Although I arrived home shortly after midnight, I was not able to sleep until 2am. And when I awoke the next morning I had this weird adrenaline buzz that lasted all day which made me say “Housework? What housework?” And forced my family out into the blinding sunlight which we hadn’t seen in weeks. We played all day. Then I went on a date with Mr. Good, Sunshine Girl, and her spouse. Sunday we spent at my parents and ate the three layer birthday cake I bought for myself. 

Do you see why today is such a disappointment? The sky’s are now covered with gray again, Mr.Good has gone back to work, the children’s moods mirror mine. We are all grumpy and I’m going through sugar withdrawals since I was practically pumping it intravenously last week. What can I say.

I hate Mondays.

So I woke in a not so happy birth week mood. The kitchen was hid-e-ous. I tried the technique of waiting till my husband was sick of the mess in the kitchen and actually cleaned it. It was four days before he did anything. I don’t recommend trying this particular technique if you have a husband like mine. His eyes are blind too any type of domestically made disorder. Needless to say the whole house mirrored the kitchen. I volunteered to watch three children yesterday. That equals six under six and they left quite a tornado of destruction in their path. I still haven’t had time to find a replacement washing machine for our broken one. My landlord said to see if I could find one for free on Craig’s List. He’s a winner! So I can only wash once a week. It’s getting to me. Especially when I have a child that still soils her pants at least twice a week.  OH the simple pleasures of a working washing machine. The next time you feel like complaining about the laundry pile up, know that you have it so much better than me.

I had no bread in the pantry this morning. I tried to convince Buster to buy lunch. He absolutely refuses too. He’s scared he’ll mess up the whole process of lunch buying. I threw together whatever I could find in the pantry. The day hit it’s all time low after I dropped off my preschooler and it was just Bubba and me.

Bubba is a tough one. He just turned two and gets so irritated when I attempt housework in his presence. I can’t blame the little guy. If the only time I had alone with my mom was four hours a week when the big sister was in preschool I’d want her whole attention as well. Hence my dilemma. I was stuck in the house that was hit by it’s own private tornado, and a superiorly hideous kitchen…and Bubba was staring at me with his beautiful squintchy blue eyes as if to say “what’ll we do now mamma?”

I took the high road and we went to the grocery store. I even let him walk by the cart. It was amazing how good he was if I just asked him nicely and paid lots of attentions to him. I hope I’m figuring him out because although he’s as cute as a baby kitten, he is my most taxing child.  

So we went shopping, and it was actually a warm, albeit cloudy day, here in the Northwest. So I decided to throw a picnic together and walk to get Missy from preschool, with a detour on the way home by the local park. This day was shaping up very nicely. Exercise for mom, fresh air for kids, everyone was happy.

I’m not kidding when I say everything fell in place from there. I threw together a fun activity for the 8 year old girls at church, my husband cleaned the kitchen while I was gone AND started dinner. We had a nice family meal before I took the kids out for haircuts (tomorrow is picture day) and Mr.Good ran off to Boy Scouts. He looks really cute in the uniform.

I usually don’t like to bore the blogosphere with every monotonous detail of my day as a fearless home-maker.

But it’s birth week people!   I’m just putting myself out there for you all to see and enjoy!

And since my blog is a NO GUILT blog and your feeling a little insecure because my day was so fluffing fabulous, just know that yesterday, the TV was on…well…pretty much all day. So I needed to make up for the guilt that I incurred.  I have this theory that if I am a fun mom for most of the days of the week, they’ll forget the days that I was less than savory.

And the party just keeps on going.

Feel free to send your birth week wishes to me via picture and I will gladly post how loved I am.
goodenoughblogatgmaildotcom

All too often I find myself daydreaming about the day Mr.Good will finally strike it rich. He’s an entrepreblahblah…I don’t want to even try and spell it. He’s a business owner! He’s a carpenter, and has a hardwood supply company as well. 

It’s been about a year now since we embarked on this journey of business ownership. I’ve realized it is not for the faint of heart. And while I’m pretty much a wimp when it comes to the heart department I do have a sense of adventure. This has been one crazy ride!

I admire my husbands work ethic, and his talent. I like knowing there is no one to tell him how much he can make per year, and when he can and cannot take a day off. I take comfort in the fact that there is no one for him to answer to, or belittle him.

I grew up watching my dad face the white collar world, day after day. Nothing was ever concrete for him. I couldn’t even tell you exactly what he did for a living or what his job title was. I knew my dad worked hard and his job was stressful. He also made frequent trips around the world. I saw him leave early in the morning in a suit and tie and come home late at night. Now that I’m older, I’m finding out just how mean and abusive some of those big bosses were. And my dad put up with it for the sake of his family. It breaks my heart to think what people go through to make livings for their families. 

By contrast my husband dons his shorts and tennis shoes. He comes home with sawdust in his hair and paint stains on his hands. I know what he does.  He never has to leave the county for his work. While times are tough now, there is reassurance that the future holds smoother sailing.

It’s been a hard year, I’m not going to lie. There have been some setbacks. There have been months when I didn’t know where the grocery money would come from, and I couldn’t put gas in the van. But we have always found a way. I’m sure there will be times ahead that are similar before the road gets a little smoother. I have had to put complete faith in my husband. He sees the potential of what he’s doing, his vision is one that includes plenty of time for his family, and all the comforts we could want. He hasn’t led us astray yet. When the money is tight I just close my eyes and dream of the simple things I’m going to spend some money on when he does bring home those big paychecks. A facial, a trip to Costco, and some yoga classes. That is what I’m looking forward to. I know. I’m a simple girl. 

What do you want when your ship comes in?