Self-Worth

I loved this article titled:
Stay-at-home mom’s work worth $138,095
Annual amount she’d earn as a housekeeper, cook and psychologist
I liked the concept of the article, not so much for the dollar amount (like anyone is actually going to send me a paycheck for what I do) but for the list of all the jobs that we as Moms do. I think the job list applies whether you work at home or outside of it. For a while now I have entertained the thought of adding a section to my resume for these years of staying at home and list all the various things I do. I mean, it's a valid job, right? And a lot of what I do at home would directly transfer over to a job situation, such as organizing and managing and teaching. Now excuse me while I go wipe the puke off my glasses and change a dirty diaper. And figure out how that translates to resume experience.

Change in tactics

I've been thinking a lot lately about what to do with this blog. According to the title, I should have closed up shop with my BFP last year. I know a lot of you who read and follow my story are in your own struggle to TTC which makes me think maybe I should end it here. But I find that blogging really helps me sort out things and makes things somewhat clearer for me. I have a sneaking suspicion that it will be a good tool in my battle against the post-partum depression that I can't help but believe is coming. So I've decided to keep the blog and unapologetically change the focus to the ins and outs of raising my two beautiful girls. I'm keeping my blogroll up to date and I will be following all the stories that I have for the past almost 2 years. I hope someone out there will continue to benefit from my journey.


If my little Gracie had been as good a baby as Katherine, I would have ordered up at least 2 more just like her. Granted, she's still got her days and nights mixed up. But the only time she cries is when she's hungry or trying to burb. She's content to sit in the swing or the pak-n-play or even lay on the bathroom floor while I shower. I am probably jinxing things but so far she is just a really good, laid back kid.

Gracie, on the other hand..... I knew having a sibling would be tough on her. I knew it would take me time to recover and that other people would have to give her the attention she was used to and that it wouldn't be the amount she was used to. Over the past almost two weeks I've made lots of excuses for her. Today, however, was my breaking point and at the end of the day I finally admitted to J the inevitable truth: we've got a royal brat on our hands. I told him no more excuses for the situation. It is what it is and she needs to learn to accept it. Obviously our approach so far has not helped. Time for Mama to get mean. No, not mean. Strict.

I've always watched with a certain amount of trepidation some parent-child encounters. You know what I mean; you've seen them too.
Mom: stop that
kid: [continues]
Mom: stop that or I'm going to [spank, timeout, whatever]
kid: [continues]
Mom: you really need to stop that
ad infinitum
Today I realized that I was in a loop like that with Gracie. No wonder she turned into a spoiled brat overnight. She can do whatever she likes with no consequences and she's determined to take full advantage of it. No more. Tomorrow is a whole new day and a whole new Mama. Poor kid.

In other news, my stitches seem to be healing. At least, they're itching like heck. I didn't have stitches with G but I'm assuming the itching is normal. Physically I feel almost normal, if a little sleep deprived. But not terribly sleep-deprived; nothing that an afternoon nap can't cure. If only G hadn't just given hers up. Today I took one anyway and put a movie on for her. I came down two hours later to discover that she had been at my desk and ate a chunk out of my glue stick. Yep. Ate it. I think I should be more worried about what's in my child's stomach and if I hadn't told her at least a million and one times not to touch anything there I might be more concerned. She seemed mightily pleased with herself to be telling me she ate it. I almost wish it had glued her mouth shut for a while.