Lots of years ago, the Hubs and I decided we wanted to grow our family. I was 24 and had no reason to think getting pregnant would be difficult. So I stopped taking the pill, started paying attention to my cycles and was convinced I was pregnant two months later when my period was late. You know that stupid saying that you’re over the moon? I hate that statement- but we were over the moon imagining how life was going to change with our little one. But the pregnancy tests kept coming back negative even though my period didn’t show for over 3 months. We just assumed it was my body’s reaction to going off hormonal birth control after so many years and didn’t get too concerned.

After a few more months though, we knew something wasn’t right. My cycles were crazily erratic, I was putting on weight rapidly and my skin was a disaster. Shortly there after, I was diagnosed with PCOS and we realized that our path to having a baby was not going to be an easy one.

This is National Infertility Awareness Week. Did you know that 1 in 8 couples deal with infertility? Think about that for a minute- 1 in 8 is a lot of people. It’s your friends, your family, your coworkers. It could be you.

When the Hubs and I first realized that having kids was going to be a challenge, we kept it to ourselves. I literally only knew of one other couple that had trouble conceiving and their child bearing years were 20 years earlier. I was scared and confused, ashamed and guilt-ridden. My body had failed me- had failed us– in a monumental way and I had no idea how to deal with that.

A year and 3 months after we started trying to grow our family, I got pregnant for the first time. We told everyone when I was about 5 weeks along. We didn’t think anything of it, we had never heard of anyone miscarrying. Then we became that couple who miscarried.

We were reeling and all the well-meaning people telling us that I’d get pregnant again soon just ate away at me. The dam broke and I told everyone everything. Words like PCOS, Clomid, IUI, Injectables and Reproductive Endocrinologist became a part of almost every conversation I had. Sadly, Miscarriage, Repeat Pregnancy Loss, Clotting Disorders and ANA did too as we dealt with 3 losses. (You can read how we eventually went on to have Scorch here.)

The crazy part was, the more I talked, the better I felt. No one could take away the pain, jealousy and heartbreak I was dealing with but the more I spoke out, the more people I found in the same boat as the Hubs and me. I found an amazing online community pretty quickly, but slowly I found local women in my life dealing with infertility. We called ourselves the Broken Vag!na and Limp D!ck Club. Not the most politically correct or medically accurate name, but it made us laugh. Our monthly dinners were sanity saving and one of the rays of sunshine during a dark time.

Eventually we all graduated from that club in one way or another. Some of us by having kids, some of us by living a fulfilling child-free life. Either way, we had each other.

It’s been almost 13 years since infertility reared its ugly head in my life. Since that time, at least a dozen women in my life have dealt with infertility in one form or another. The two kids I love just about as much as I love my own are IVF babies. I’ve held hands with more women than I’d like as they’ve mourned their losses. It’s been heartbreaking- but I’m so glad we’ve had each other.

Medical advances have out paced my knowledge and experiences, but I still share my story and lend an ear to anyone going through something similar. To know that you are not alone can sometimes be one of greatest blessing during a horrible time. The more I’ve talked, the less ashamed I am. My infertility wasn’t something I asked for, it just is-  like my brown eyes and wavy hair. I don’t wish that journey on anyone but I’m so very, very happy that infertility and pregnancy loss isn’t a topic talked about in whispers anymore. No one wants to be part of the Broken Vag!nas and Limp D!ck Club but if you are, come talk to me. I’ll listen.

I’m not exactly blaming the Bean and her homework for the gray hairs on my head, but I am saying they may be related.  It’s not that her homework is hard- thankfully in 1st grade, I more or less know how to help her (unless it’s math, then we’re both screwed). Nope, these gray hairs are there because she refuses to ask for help and when you do help her (so, you know, she doesn’t get the whole thing wrong) she is Not Happy.

Tonight in honor of Earth Day, she had to make something from materials we got out of our recycling bin. She chose to make a snowman out of an empty OJ bottle, an empty tomato pint, paper towels and straws. She then had to write down what this item could be used for. In this case, she wanted it to be a Christmas decoration.

The Bean asked for help in spelling Christmas but she was convinced she knew how to spell “decoration.” Now, I know she doesn’t know. I don’t expect my 6 year old to know how to spell that nor do I expect her to get it right when sounding it out, but I did ask her to try. So she wrote: deck or a shun.  Honestly, not bad for sounding it out! The issue came when she refused to believe me when I told her it was 1) one word and 2) spelled the way it was. Around and around we went with me trying to convince my 6 year old that I was not an idiot.

Do you know how I got her to believe me? By asking Siri how to spell “decoration.”

Today, the state tests in NY started for all 3rd – 8th grade students.  We opted Scorch out of these tests, so he had an hour and 10 minutes to read. That’s a loooooong time to read when you’re 8 so I spent some time this weekend finding books to hold his attention. One of the books I picked out was a “Choose Your Own Adventure” book about the Revolutionary War that I figured he’d get a kick out of.

Evidently I picked well because when Scorch got into the car, the book was all he could talk about. He went through the adventure 6 times and he died 3 of them (which is way cool when you’re 8 and sheltered and thinking being hung as a spy is amazing). I asked about the other 3 times.

“One time, to live I had to shoot someone before he shot me. The book told me after I shot him, I immediately fell to my knees and started vomiting over the fact that I killed a man. The book said the guilt from my actions will haunt me forever.”

Huh. Well, way to get way too real there, Debbie Downer.

This afternoon I  took the kids to the local bounce house to blow off some energy. About a half an hour after we got there, a boy came in with his mom.  He looked about Scorch’s age and Scorch was thrilled when another boy showed up to play.

He immediately asked if he could play with Scorch and Bean so my kids pulled him into their basketball game. Less then a minute later, Bean came out of the bounce house saying that John hit her in the neck. I didn’t think much of it as they were playing a very spirited game and, well, kids get hit. The boy’s mom piped up from her chair, “JOHN- no touching!”

Beaner sat by me and not a minute later, Scorch came out saying that John was pulling his hair.

Hmmm, well, that’s a little harder to do playing basketball so when John emerged from the bounce house right after Scorch, I just reminded all the kids that we keep our hands to ourselves when we play. I didn’t single out any of the kids, just issued a blanket statement. The kids all nodded and went back off to play.  John’s mom didn’t look up from her phone.

A few minutes pass and Beaner comes out to sit by me because John was bothering her. John followed her over and slung an arm around her shoulder, messing with her hair, asking me if she was shy. Now Bean doesn’t really like to be touched so I told John as much and reminded him to please keep his hands to himself. The mom, sitting not 4 chairs over from me, yells at him to not touch.

Scorch and Bean are trying to play by themselves at this point, but John keeps following them around. I tried to come up with games (races, etc) the three kids could do that didn’t involve touching or rough housing but somehow John was always touching them. Bean finally gave up and came to sit by me but Scorch still wanted to play, so he tried to engage John in another basketball game. That quickly devolved into a game where John tried to peg Scorch in the face with the ball repeatedly. Again, I spoke up (loudly for the mom to hear, but not yelling) that we play nice or we don’t play together. Hitting our friends with a ball was not nice and won’t be allowed.

Mom yelled again at John from her seat. Which clearly had been really effective.

Scorch decided that basketball wasn’t the smartest idea, so he moved onto another bounce house that requires climbing a ladder up to a slide to get out. John followed and within seconds, I hear Scorch saying “Please stop touching me. Please stop. I said stop touching me.”  I can’t see what’s going on, so I climbed into the bounce house to see Scorch trying to get up the ladder and John either smacking him lightly on the butt or yanking at his feet.  At this point I finally raised my voice directly to John and told him to leave Scorch alone. That Scorch had asked him repeatedly to stop touching him and that he needed to listen. I was semi- yelling, speaking firmly, and John immediately agreed to stop and apologized.

The mom? She did nothing. She didn’t say a single thing to me or the kids as we left immediately after the last incident.

Based on some of the other things I saw John do, I tend to think he may have had some special needs. None of his touching seemed to be mean spirited in any way, it was simply like he didn’t know how to interact properly with the kids. By the time we left, both my kids were in tears wondering why John’s mom didn’t do anything to stop John’s behavior other then sit on her chair and yell his name a few times. And I was at a loss as to what to tell them.  It was a really uncomfortable situation all around.

So what would you have done? Should I have engaged the mom more? Should I have raised my voice sooner at John? Should I have told the owners of the bounce house? Should we have just left?  I feel badly that my kids ended up having a crappy time even though they, to their credit, did everything I’ve ever told them to do when someone is bothering them.

So, here’s the deal. I’m not a very good care taker. At all.

The Hubs either has the flu or a very bad cold (getting tested tomorrow to determine which). Either way, he’s a coughing, ear-plugged, nose-blowing, body-aching mess. He can’t hear right now, so he has the TV blaring as he moans on the couch and refuses to go to bed. I have to work until 11, so I’m just doing my best not to smother him to put him (me) out of his (my) misery.

Then you add in sweet Scorch. The plague is going around the kid’s school- a fun mix of the flu, strep and the stomach bug. Last Friday, there were 9 people plus the teacher out sick from Scorch’s class alone. Oddly enough (knock on wood), my kids have thus far stayed healthy*. Completely hale and hearty, which is awesome. But that doesn’t stop Scorch from worrying. A lot. And when Scorch worries, he talks and paces and talks some more.

Do you think I’m sick?

What if I get sick?

Everyone else is sick, I could get sick too.

Do I have a fever? Can you check? Where is the thermometer?

My stomach hurts. Do you think I’m sick or do you think I’m just nervous.

Feel my cheeks- do I feel like I have a fever yet?

Over and over and over, people. I try really, really hard to be sympathetic. Usually I succeed for the first 5 minutes, then I start running out of answers because no matter what you tell Scorch, it doesn’t matter. He’s still going to be nervous. Today I told him he could stay home from school, which I thought would make him feel better. Nope, he wanted to go to school. But he didn’t want to get sick there. So what should he do? We debated this for 2 hours (from 5:30 – 7:30 am) until he decided to go to school 15 minutes before we had to leave.** I’d like to say I was compassionate, understanding and the picture of calm this whole morning, but at one point I may have screeched to him “what do you want me to say? I don’t live in your stomach!”

Parenting and marriage – glamor and sunshine 24/7.

*Now that I put this out in the universe, I full expect the plague to fully hit our house within the next 24 hours.

**The kiddo had a wonderful day- no sign of illness at all once he got past his nervousness. He even crushed it at baseball tonight.

Yesterday morning I brought my A-game. The Hubs had to leave for work early which meant I was flying solo during the morning routine and I was determined to rock it. I woke the kids 15 minutes early so we could get a jump start on things. Both kids woke up happy, we had a great breakfast together and then…

Well, things fell apart.

First, I think my kids lost their hearing between breakfast and walking to their rooms to get dressed. There is literally no other explanation on why I had to repeat myself over and over until I finally resorted to yelling to get them to finally get dressed, brush their teeth and do their hair. You know, the things we do *every* *single* *day* before we leave the house.

I’m also pretty sure they lost their ability to keep their hands to themselves because there was a heck of a lot of taunting, teasing, snatching of each others clothes/toys/lovies. Which may have resulted in more yelling from all of us. Miracle of miracles, we finally made it out the door.

The weather was a wintery mess yesterday morning, so I opted to drive the Hub’s car that day since it has 4 wheel drive. I got the kids in the car through the rear passenger door and walked over to the driver’s side door opened the door and saw snow. A lot of it.

Inside the car.

I was so shocked that I stood there blinking for a minute trying to process why there was a huge pile of snow on the drivers side seat, the middle console and all over the jackets, book bags, my purse and my laptop bag in the passenger seat. Then I hear the panicked voice telling me loudly and quickly that it was an accident, I swear!

According to Scorch, the Bean “accidentally” opened the moon roof. A two step process that includes pulling back the shade and pressing a button. All of which was done “accidentally.” Bean, the savvier of my two children, wasn’t saying a word. She just sat very quietly in her chair and buckled up while Scorch kept babbling.

And I just started to laugh. Because, really, what could I do? Yelling wasn’t going to get the snow out of the car and having to help me get it out of every nook and cranny in the car was punishment enough for the kids. As we (finally) drove away to school, I told the kids that we can clearly gotten all our bad mojo for the week out that morning and the rest of the week had to rock.

Happy Monday, Universe- you won yesterday. But today’s a new day!

This evening, Scorch and I were out and, in out travels, we drove by one of the local restaurants. I’ve only been there a handful of times over the years, but I distinctively remember the first time I was there in December 2011 because I sat at the table and cried in front of my girlfriends.

Scorch’s anxiety was just making itself apparent at the time. He was terrified of hairless cats and the boy, in Kindergarten at the time, wouldn’t sleep. He was terrified of going to sleep and would wake up numerous times a night. Putting him to bed would literally take hours and often times end up with all of us yelling and crying. It was an awful time and, that night out, I was just done. I dreaded going home knowing that Scorch would still be awake, and that I couldn’t do a damn thing to fix it. So when I sat down with my friends, I just let the tears flow. Thank goodness we were the only ones in the place that night.

Tonight I told Scorch that story. I told him how proud I was of him for coming so far and we had a laugh over the vision of me sobbing and sniffing at a table out in public. Then I teased him a little about having a phobia over the oddest thing ever.

Yeah, mom- I’m pretty much over being scared of hairless cats. 

From my crazy family to yours, we wish all who celebrate a very Merry Christmas! I hope this holiday season is filled with joy, love and lots and lots of laughter!

Well, right now, tis the season to be really, really busy. Christmas parties, concerts, practices, Girl Scouts and more practices. Add in work (did I tell you all I started a 2nd job? I work at home a few night a week until 11 pm and it’s awesome, but still, work) and the day-to-day fun stuff like laundry and cooking, then throw in a metric ton of wrapping, baking (sort of) and shopping and you have one exhausted me.

My mad wrapping skills.

The Hubs and I had a kid free night last night. Know what we did? Shopped then got take out so we could come home at 9:30 and collapse. Christmas is kicking our butt, you guys.

But, man, it’s such a fun time of year. The kids are in love with Christmas. The movements of our Elf, Buddy, overnight is something they marvel at every morning. Their reactions to the videos from Santa today revealing that they both made it on the nice list were the most priceless things ever. Seriously, I wish I could show you video of when the Bean found out she was on the good list- it’s amazing. The child was *floored*.

Scorch was literally wringing his hands because he was so nervous watching the video from Santa.

Despite the craziness, I’m trying to take the time to soak all this in. There is Christmas music on every minute we’re awake and the only thing on TV (besides football, natch) is Christmas shows. I want to just wallow in the kid’s excitement because I know it won’t always be this pure. So far this whole holiday season has been amazing- cannot wait to see what the rest of the week brings!

From my family to yours, a very happy Thanksgiving. I hope you laugh until you can’t breath, eat until you feel sick and surround yourself with all your favorite people.

Every Friday we unite for five minutes to write on one word. What that 5 minutes is up, there are no edits or second-thoughts, those word go live. This week, we write on notice.

Go.

One of  my favorite times of day is picking you both up from school. I walk in to the chaos- the yelling, the screaming, the shrieking and the balls bouncing. There is usually so much chaos that you don’t notice me, but I notice you. I get to watch you both in your element and just bask in your energy and joy and see the life you’ve made outside of our house. The life with friends and sports and markers and basketballs. I get to see how you interact with your friends and your teachers and the college kids that volunteer at the school.

Scorch, I notice how infectious you are. You are a joyous kid, quick to laugh and eager to run around like a mad man. And you, my sweet Bean, I notice how much fun you’re having.  You’re not as loud and rambunctious as your big brother but your joy is just as evident as you play with your BFFs in the corner. I notice both your bright smiles and shining eyes and I see how the other kids gravitate to you both.

I hope you notice how proud I am of you both every day. I hope you notice how very much you’re loved every second. Never stop noticing that…