Baby Hungry or just craving a snickers?

I can't decide. I go back and forth on a minute by minute basis.

The thought of another baby...well, conjurs up more thoughts...

Would I love to have another child to enjoy in my life, nurse, raise, talk to, be entertained by, hold, hug, kiss?

Yes!

Would I love to get pregnant, puke my guts up, get more stretch marks, endure heartburn, give birth, worry about complications, deal with a non-sleeping new born, worry about newborn issues, stress about paying for a 3rd child, stress about paying for my first 2, stress about giving enough attention to each one?

Hmm. Look at that; more cons then pros...that's what I thought.

The romanticism of having another child is what my daydreams are made of. But I can still remember the stark reality of bringing Sloane home and thinking "holy shit, we are starting from square 1 again...with an additional child". And then layer on the fact she's superhuman and didn't require sleep but instead 24/7 one-on-one attention. She's what Post Pardom medication brochures target.

A few months ago Quinn asked Cort for a baby brother. Cort calls me and says "well what do you think?". I responded "I think you try to give your kids everything they want so when they ask you for a sibling, you're ACTUALLY considering it? I think you're nuts, tell Quinn we'll think about it!"

As it stands right now, we are painfully aware of our finances. I'm paying for Dance classes, tumbling and preschool...and that's it. If I bring a 3rd kid into the mix then what? What goes away? The 2nd child took away my daily starbucks fix. What will the 3rd one remove? ...besides more elasticity from my womb and vagina.

Worst Neighbor Ever!

I do highly covet that title.
Yes. Me.
I, without a doubt am one of the worst neighbors ever. As I sit here on my laptop watching from a hidden corner in the house so no one can see me as my neighbor's 65 year old mother weeds my garden out of the kindness of her heart. Thinking she's going to surprise me.
And frankly I am surprised. But also super guilty.
If I was a decent human being I would have rushed out there 15 minutes ago and said something like "Oh! No No! you don't need to do that! REALLY! Thank you so much but I will get to it! Oh Gosh! You're so sweet!".
Hmph. How perplexing. I mean I would love to go out there and be all nice and whatever, but my ass is super duper comfy right here holding a warm laptop.
mmmmm....in fact, think I'll take a nap. and then I'll be super surprised when I wake up and have the whole thing weeded!
WE BOTH WIN!

Hot Mess

A few weeks ago we went to a BBQ at some new friends' house. We were just beginning the "getting to know you" preliminary chit chat when in walks Sloaney from their back yard, covered in mud, shoeless and peed pants...whining.

Without missing a beat I say "oh she's my hot mess" almost like an afterthought, kind of brushing it off.

S.I.L.E.N.C.E.

Nobody says a word...I'm not sure for lack of an appropriate response or with what I said.

In fact, in hind sight I'm not sure they were familiar with the phrase "hot mess".

Doesn't anyone watch Chelsea Lately? or Clean House?

Hot mess? Foolishness? Mayhem?

Has my crappy cable television watching hobby integrated itself into my parenting?

The answer my friends is YES.

But the answer is also that she is my hot mess. And I mean that in the most loving way. oh and the way where you want to sock her in the face when she won't GO TO BED HOLY SHIT CHILD IT'S 11PM GET TIRED! STOP TRYING TO INDUCE VOMITING!

Anyway, that whole BBQ scenario I have not been able to get over. I am embarrassed by my verbal diahrrea but I also feel defensive like "come on...lighten up!". Nobody has perfect parenting skills...oh but I did forget to mention. The husband? Is a child psychologist!

Yeah. So I'm sure the diagnosis report in his head of mother and child was a fucking novel.

From that outburst on; during the rest of the BBQ I tried to act like June Cleaver...which I'm was entertaining to watch because I have no natural tendencies that are even slightly Cleaver-ish.

I'm more of a Roseanne...with maybe a hint of Grace Under Fire.

Frustration Station

I don't think you can have it all.

I don't want to be a Debbie Downer but it's time for a reality check. For the last 5 years I have been juggling everything...let's just talk about the 2 significant things- work and kids. The older they get, the harder it gets. And the more balls I get in the air, yet still the same amount of hands to juggle them.

I want to be an involved mom and I also want to be able to bring home a paycheck and use my business brain from time to time. But it seems like trying to do both, at some point everyday I'm at my breaking point. Yes, everyday. I break down. Freak out. Lose my mind. At some point during the day, I call my husband, tell him I can't do this anymore, I'm gonna lose it. I yell at a child. I yell at myself. I yell at a coworker.

My cup runneth over. E.V.E.R.Y.D.A.Y.

There are things I want:

1. Alone time

2. More office time during the day

3. To make a perfect breakfast for my kids

4. To not lose it with my child when they throw a fit

5. To be able to drop everything when my daughter asks me to read her a book

and

There are things I need:

1. a paycheck

2. transportation for my children from lessons and school

3. a camp director for all 4 of our lives/house

How come I can't combine all of those and have it turn out just dandy everyday? Or at least MOST days? Why am I always on the verge of breaking down?

My mom told me years ago that once you become a mother/wife/etc you will feel like everyone wants a piece of you. It's true...everyday my phone rings or someone yells to get my attention and I think "now what? What fire do I have to put out at home or work or New Jersey?" Who's question do I have to answer now. Who's life needs a lesson? Who spilled chocolate milk on the couch and needs a 3 page proposal in 10 minutes?

I told my husband that I believe no one takes me seriously. I feel like something is always being compromised...work or home. The scale is never completely balanced and even. Yes, Yes I know everyone says "put family first"...ESPECIALLY IN UTAH. And I do believe that. But it is also true that if I do not successfully perform in my work, I will no longer have a paycheck coming in. I have great childcare for my children when I'm at work so I honestly rarely worry if they are being taken care of or having a good time when I'm away. I just try to make childcare and my absence a fairly rare occurence.

I apologize for this sounding like a poor me song and dance but I truly wish I could figure out a happy medium so I'm not breaking down everyday. Is this pressure of work and family all in my head? Is this the new image of the working mother?

Where's the middle ground?

Where's my sanity?

Where's the beef?