Blogxygen Starting Anew (sort of)

Hi friends, well, through a series of interesting events today that I really won't tell here, because it really doesn't matter, I have decided on a few new changes regarding Blogxygen:

1.  The Blogxygen you know and love is still alive and well, though I have switched URL's.  So, instead of coming to notaletellsall.blogspot.com, please redirect your bookmarks and Google Reader's to 

www.briesblogxygen.blogspot.com .

2.  This blog will be public, so no need to email me and ask for a request.  I am hoping for now, that since I'm moving URL's, it may help a bit with my anxiety about my blog being public.  At some point I may need to go private again, but I'll make you well aware before that happens, and we can cross that bridge when we get to it.

3.  So, this will most likely be the last post at my notaletellsall URL.  Please go check the new site for new posts, and don't forget to follow my blog, so you can get regular updates.  :D

Thanks, love you all, look forward to beginning Blogxygen's new chapter with you all.

Public Again?

Am I crazy for thinking about making Blogxygen public again?  I've been private for nearly a year, and as I'm getting into my writing again, I'm missing all the fun that a public blog was - I mean, it was so fun to get new commenters, and it was really exciting thinking about what I was going to write about.  Right now, I write, but it is mundane.  Not to insult you readers - it is just very different to have a public blog that is usually updated every day, and to get a lot of responses and feedback.

However, I still have a lot of reservations, so I'm not necessarily going to do it, just something I am thinking about.  So, pros and cons?  For those of you that still read and know why I went private, (or because of who) I'd particularly like your input as to if you think this is a good idea or not.  Thanks.

That was a Real Butt Kicker

I got my very pregnant a$$ handed to me in therapy today.   I know that I needed it, and I've already had some time to process it and look at it a little more impartially and cool down, but in the moment, I was mad.  So was my T.  And when we're both mad, she usually is the one who ends up winning.  (Because I suck at being mad.)

Basically she got angry because even though I am gaining weight, I am not following my mealplan 100% perfectly.  Like I said, I'm not not following it enough to actually really impact my weight, but I'm still not following treatment recommendations by not doing it exactly as it has been laid out for me.

So, the T basically told me that I was setting myself up for relapse when I have Baby R, and that she was "frustrated" with me and tired of playing my "eating disorder game."

Of course, I didn't know what to say to this.  In my mind, and looking at myself in the mirror, I did not think I was in my eating disorder at all.  And so then one of those awkward stretches ensued, where she just stared at me with those killer eyes, waiting for me to say something...and I didn't know what to say... I knew she was waiting for some grand apology, or for me to quickly see the error of my ways and tell her all the ways in which I was going to make things perfect... and all of that was on the tip of my tongue to say, because when it comes right down to it, I am a people pleaser, and I really dislike when people are upset with me, especially when SHE is upset with me... but I didn't want to come across as disingenuous.

So instead, I kinda just sat there.  And thought about what she was saying.  Thought about how I really felt and what was going through my dumb old brain, instead of thinking automatically about what I "should" say to smooth out the situation, just to make things better.

And as I did that...I started to cry.  A lot.  And then I finally started talking, and I know that it was a lot more real than anything else that I would have said previously, had I not let myself sit with the feelings for a bit and mull.

I cried because I realized that I have to stop freaking fighting my body and this pregnancy and all of its changes.  I think that I keep thinking that if I just get mad at my body enough, or if I resist the changes and the weight gain that comes with a healthy pregnancy, then maybe, just maybe, none of this crappy body stuff will happen.  Maybe I'll somehow be one of those rare people who can rock a baby bump with a bikini, or not get fat anywhere else on their body, except for their burgeoning belly.  For the entire six months that I have been pregnant, do you know that I have not been okay with ONE bite of food that I have put in my mouth?  Every freaking meal, I beat the crap out of myself, telling myself that I'm so gross and awful for eating, and that I'm going to get huge, blah blah blah.  AND THAT FREAKING ISN'T FAIR TO ME, OR TO BABY R.  Getting mad at myself for gaining weight while I'm pregnant is like getting mad at the sun for shining.  It is completely out of my control; something that happens naturally and is simply not something I can change, not if I want Baby R to come out big and healthy, and as it so happens, I very much want that.

So I cried and cried, and told my T (and really, myself) that I have to stop fighting this, guys.  Guess what?  I have three months of my pregnancy left, and I'M GOING TO GAIN WEIGHT.  I'm going to get bigger.  There is simply no getting around that.  So, I can either gain the weight I'm going to gain, and maybe not love it, but accept it and let it go, or I can gain the same amount of weight anyway, and agonize over every ounce and just generally make myself miserable and upset.

Maybe that sounds like a no duh discovery, but for me, this was six long months coming.  So this is me...telling you guys (and me too) that I'm going to gain weight.  As you read my blog for the duration of my pregnancy, and as you see me post pictures of myself...guess what guys, I'm going to look bigger in them.  That's just how it is.  HOW IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE.

Time to let go and accept that.  Time to be okay with myself.  Time to stop fighting.

I can breathe again.

Looking Up

Thanks to the few who responded on my last post.  I appreciated it all very much.

Things have gotten a little better since my meltdown.  Brandon has been awesome about this and has been helping me brainstorm ways in which I can still write, still pursue my dreams, even while being a 24/7 stay at home mama.

Here is what we have come up with:

Bran was sweet enough to buy me a laptop - we ordered it today, will come in the mail on Tuesday.  I am THRILLED about this, not just because I've wanted my own laptop for awhile now, but so that I don't have to sit at our desktop with my back to Mila while I try to write.  Now I can cart my laptop with me everywhere I go to write - whether that be at a coffee shop, to a park, or more likely - right on my sofa, sitting with my kids.  I'm SO excited that I can have an easy way to write more readily available to me.  Brandon has a laptop, and we have iPads and a desktop, but I don't have my own laptop, and now that I do, I know it will make things more simple.  He also said that any time he is at home and not working, if I want some alone time to write, he'll scoop the kids up, no question, and get them out of my hair.

So, I'm ready to buckle down and really start getting out all the ideas for my book that are jangling around in my brain.  I'm excited to share with you guys, too, as I move forward.

Also - another tidbit of exciting news - we are getting our grass SOON!  We are putting sod down in our front yard, and hydro-seeding the backyard, but within a month or so it should all be in, and I am so so so SO happy, mostly because it will take a lot of stress off of Brandon and I.  Not to mention that the idea of my kids running around outside in grass, rather than in dust and tracking it into my house and all over my floors makes me positively SWOON.  :0  So, see?  Things are already looking up.

Also, this is a complete aside - I am thinking of restricting access from my blog to some people who requested access, but never comment, and I am not sure even read anymore.  So, if you do read, and I don't know you, please comment and let me know if you'd still like to read.  I've got 100 people reading my blog, but only like 3 commenters, so I don't really know if there is anybody reading, and if they aren't, I don't want people to have stagnant access to my blog.  So...if you want to read, and I don't know you and you never comment, please let me know so that I don't deny you access.  :)

On Dreams Perhaps Lost

I know that I probably sound like a tired old book, but I've started writing again - like, REALLY writing.  My book.  Or my pathetic excuse for a book, whatever.

I can't explain it.  Over the last several weeks, I've just felt this palpable tug to write.  I have all these ideas crowding around in my brain, practically begging to get out.  I have no idea, in the grand scheme of things, if I'll ever really publish my book.  I don't know if I'm brave enough to.  But I do know that whatever else I do in my dumb old life, that writing has to be a part of it.

So, today, after putting it off for weeks, I sat down to write.  Caden was outside playing with some neighbor kids, and I thought maybe I'd sit down for a bit at the computer and see what happened.  it ended up being this really frustrating and awful experience.  I mean, I was writing, but it didn't feel good.  It didn't feel right.  Mostly because I was just so distracted.  And it was Mila - she was being a holy terror.  She was mad I was typing and not paying attention to her, so she was crying and throwing fits and pretty much doing whatever she could to climb into my lap and get me to hold her and pay attention to her.  So I'd switch between one or two minute stretches of typing feverishly while ignoring her cries, to then picking her up and placating her for a few minutes before distractedly putting her back down and turning back to my work.  Not a very productive way to write, I'd say.

And, it hit me.  I can't write when it's just me and the kids.  Delving into my book requires too much energy and brain power, and I can't seem to divide it between that and my kids.  So I saved my pathetic start at the book, scooped her up, and dejectedly took her downstairs.  And then I just LOST it - like full on, crying and mad and frustrated LOST IT.  I wanted to write, dammit.  I wanted to do just ONE THING that wasn't about my kids, but about me.  Just one thing that didn't involve caring for them, or cooking for them, or cleaning up after them.  And I couldn't do it.

So of course, once I started feeling bad for myself, I couldn't stop.  I started to think about how I had a whole summer stretching ahead of me, and that the entire summer was going to be all about my kids, and not about me.  Call me selfish, I don't care.  I have never regretted my decision to become a mother yet, and I don't think I ever will, but I'd not be human if I didn't sometimes miss the days when I had all the time in the world to myself.  Today, I just thought, every day, every second is devoted to my kids.  I can't even go to the bathroom without Mila following me in.  And, when summer ends, and Cade goes back to school, I don't get a break - because then Baby R will be here.  And of course while I am entirely thrilled for his imminent arrival, I am also scared crazy to be a mom of 3 rambunctious kids.

So I IM'ed Brandon in quite a state.  Just vented the crap out of everything to him; I feel bad.  I got quite dramatic, I'm sure, and told him about how I was doomed to sit on my fat pregnant butt all summer for hours on end watching Spongebob because we don't have much money to take the kids on outings, nor do we yet have a yard where I can send the kids out to play.  And I told him how sad I was that I couldn't even sit down for 30 minutes to write.  I was sad.  Terribly sad.

And so now, here I am, not knowing what to do.  I am a Mother, first and always, but I also wish I could be more - or, rather, that I could be both a Writer and a Mother.  I know that I shouldn't give up, and that I can always find time to write, maybe after the kids have gone to bed, and this is true.  But it is also very true, and I will not be the first mother, nor the last, who has had to give up some grand dream with the daily monotony of changing diapers and wiping messy faces.  And yes, it's true, that in exchange for doing all that yucky stuff, I get kisses and hugs from my kids, and I get to watch Mila's naked little bum running around after her bath, and I get to look at Cade's sweet little grin with his missing tooth, I still miss More.

I miss my dreams.

And that's all I'll bombard you with tonight.  Just a heavy weight on my mind, that I wanted to try to ease a bit before I headed to bed.  Thanks for reading, friends.

I'm a Grouch Ball

Gosh I have been so grouchy lately.

I have desperately wanted to make this summer fun for my kids, but it seems that every time I try to do something for them, it ends up turning into this giant mess that isn't any fun at all.  And I feel bad, because I'm just so pregnant, and I feel like that makes me perma grouchy and uncomfortable and that sort of makes me impatient with the kids.

Yesterday I started off with great intentions; I was taking the kids to the pool for the first swim of the season.  We only lasted about 2 hours before I was HOT and impatient and sick of the kids whining when I freaking took them to the pool, so I took them home.  We got home, I fed them lunch and got them changed into dry clothes, and for some reason that I still don't get, I was just SO MAD.  I was cutting up a watermelon, well, I really should say WHACKING IT TO PIECES, and finally I just burst into tears.  Brandon happened to call me right then, and in tears I just told him I didn't know how I was going to get through the rest of my day.  He surprised me by coming home a couple hours early, and just working from home, and he promptly sent me upstairs to the bedroom where I locked my door, settled under the cool sheets with my kitties, and took a lovely nap.  That really helped.

But I just hate feeling this impatient and mean and grouchy.  I don't want to be like this.  I hope this is just a passing thing, and not something that my poor kids are going to have to endure all summer.  :(  I want to be nice!

A Little too Pregnant...

I just have to document the fact that my body is psycho and completely not obeying me.  I have become acutely aware as of the last few days of how not in control of my body I am, and how pregnancy can completely hijack an otherwise normal body and make it do crazy things.  I'm only (almost) 24 weeks and the symptoms are driving me insane.  Oh, how I am afraid for 5, 10 weeks from now...

Photo - I was bored yesterday, because I was stuck in SLC with the kids at Mickey D's, (long story) so I took a few (rather shameless) selfies.

First example:
I blew my nose and promptly peed my pants.  I IM'ed Brandon and told him this, to which he asked, "Was there more mucous or urine?"  And my reply was, "Oh, it was a definite underwear soaker," to which he very aptly and accurately replied, "YICKY."

I also have heartburn that radiates from my knees to my eyeballs.  I now perma carry a bottle of Tums around, and they are about as vital to me as my iPhone and Burt's Bees, which is saying A LOT.  Last night at about 9:30, I was lamenting to Brandon about how sad I was that I couldn't eat after 7 pm because the heartburn burns it BURNS US PRECIOUS (all in the most creepy, Gollum-like voice possible...) and I seriously feel like I'm 80, I mean I CAN'T EVEN EAT AFTER 7 PM, but then finally the fact that I'm SO FREAKING pregnant got to be too much, and I was about to start eating the book I was reading if I didn't get some FOOD IN MY BELLY, so I decided that indulging in a Sweet 'n Salty was the lesser of two evils, and that I'd just have to let the heartburn win that night.  And win it did, my friends, win it did.

Photo - still stuck in SLC.  Waiting for group to begin.

So that is my complaint for the week.  Peeing that happens at really inopportune times, (although when is peeing your pants ever opportune?) and say you know, either 27 years too late or about 50 years too early in my life, and it's not just the herculean effort of blowing my nose that gets me to pee - it's a sudden burst of laughter, a sneeze, or heaven forbid I jump on the tramp.  That'll jiggle and jostle the pee right outta me.  And heartburn - oh and the fact that I am HUGE.  My belly is a large, large vessel.  6 months, though.  I am making progress on cooking this little R guy of mine!  Oh Little Baby...you have no idea how much I am sacrificing to make you.  :)

Photo - my belluh at 24 weeks.  Big Big Thing.

But it still remains that--
pregnancy is so undignified.