Too Tired to Dream

Ever since I was a little girl, when something semi-traumatic happens I process all the emotions and feelings with series of dreams/bad dreams/nightmares all depending on the situation. I've been having all those since last year about August. It's usually a nightly ritual and I've learned to convince myself it's not real. I've been working a lot the last couple of days and in fact today will be my third day in a row. The good news with this is I'm just too tired to dream. It's been nice to not wake up with a rapid heart rate and feeling panicky. There's a little positive in every negative. Negative: Having to work so hard. Positive: Sound, hard, honest to goodness sleep. People of the county in which I live in... Today, be happy, be healthy, be careful, and for goodness sake stop trying to kill yourselves. It's not fun for anyone involved, especially you.

When You Say the Word "Advanced"

Sydney had her first birthday. It was mellow and low key with a small group of family and friends. Sydney loved it. Sat in her cake and ate enough to provide enough calories for a small village. She only has one first birthday. I loved every minute of her giggles and squeals.

This was her in progress of getting up to sit in it.

This is the after math. Anyway. Sydney had her first year check up with the pediatrician this week. Said Syd is of normal weight and height for a baby of her age... just under the 50th percentile. But those words were uttered that every mother gets slightly giddy over hearing "she's really advanced for her age." I just stared at the pediatrician needing clarification. The pediatrician went further to explain that Sydney obviously can follow commands as she obeys me when I ask her to do things, she runs across the room, knows how to turn the pages of a book, etc. I was giddy. My baby is advanced. I'd love her if she was a dummy. Honestly.

Soundtrack to My Life

I love music of all kinds. Certain genres are my favorite, but I'm really not prejudiced to a good tune if it's from a taboo genre. Pandora is my favorite place to listen to music. I have 7 different stations all of which I listen to at some point or another. Work days I wake up and get ready to my Band of Horse's station. Exercise?? Today's Hip Hop and R&B... come on now.. it makes me run faster. When I shower... the station is "girl country" and I can sing along to most every song. Cooking in the kitchen and I've got "guy country" on because ever girl wants to believe they're making that meal for the love of their life which will be coming home shortly from work. When I'm feeling moody or mellow, I listen to Dawes radio which is an eclectic collection of Dr. Dog and Dawes that tends to make me be a little introspective. Nickel Creek and The Civil Wars radio are there simply because I like folk music and like the sound of a mandolin. I listen to them whenever I'm not doing any of the above listed tasks. AND... on top of that. I do through a little classical music in there. Sydney has been doing nap time with classical music in the background since 4 months old. Won't go to nap time without it. I'm developing a mini genius here in this house. She loves music and will dance to anything that comes on. I can't wait til she can SING and dance along.

A Year Ago Today

I had a normal doctor's appointment. Well, normal since having been put on bed rest due to pre ecclampsia. I was swollen to the size of a NFL linebacker and you could literally leave one word messages in the edema to my legs. My blood pressure was borderline crazy since I rarely get above 100 systolic on a normal day. In to the doctor's office I went to see if my kidneys were tolerating all the fluid that my body was retaining. Urine sample provided...hello to protein in my urine. Non stress test turned out to be something the physician didn't like and these words were uttered, "be at the hospital by 300pm, you're being induced." A little early, but ya know...I was pretty ready to meet her and be done with being pregnant. I left the doctor's office, packed up my stuff, and we headed to the hospital. I showed up to the room got in a pretty gown and laid down. By this time, I was starting to feel some pretty powerful contractions on my own. I'm pretty sure the doc could have touched Sydney's feet during his manual exam at the office...so I'm sure he stimulated something. The sweet nurse started the IV... right where I didn't want it, but I didn't complain. I didn't want to be one of those nurses... you know the ones who tell you exactly how to do everything. The doctor came an examined me again and guess what...I was dilated to 2 on my own. The process was in progress. Pitocin was started... tick tock tick tock. My blood pressure didn't like the contractions so the lights had to be turned down and the noise lowered. Mean while my parents were driving about 100mph from Georgia to Arkansas. Fast forward 10 hrs or so to 100am. My uterus went hypertonic (wouldn't stop contracting) and the pit had to be turned off. A quick check of the uterus showed pushing time. Thankfully, my parents arrived just prior to that time so I got to see them safe before the hard work began. I pushed. And pushed. And pushed. I couldn't tell if they were doing anything due to the darn epidural. Two and a half hours later and pretty painful epidural, Sydney arrived. My life was forever changed.

Nostalgia

I like it. I like the feeling of it. That almost eerie feeling of familiarity. Like it's supposed to be the norm but no longer feels right. That's how I describe it. Too many things arouse this emotion these days, but I like it. A t-shirt stuffed in the back of the closet that isn't mine. It's his. Looks familiar, but feels so wrong. He doesn't know me anymore. He'll forever be as he was the day he left. No room for growth or change. But me. I'm blossoming. I'm growing. I'm learning. I'm being a better human. He doesn't know me. And, I'm okay with that. Really okay with it actually. I like that I'm learning to be better. A better mom, a better nurse, a better citizen, everything. For the wake up call, the shock to my system. I'm grateful. His going has changed me. He doesn't know me. And it doesn't make me sad.

Light at the End of the Tunnel

And it's not a train. I'm going to survive. There are worse tragedies this world than what I've experienced. Thank you to everyone who has listened to me cry, whine, complain, and moan. I am going to be okay! I say this with confidence. I'm closing this chapter of my life. Moving on.

Firefly

Since recent events, I've become quite the introvert. I don't speak unless spoken to. I absorb all information around me and sit quietly learning from my surroundings. That is... until I found firefly. I love sweet tea, but stopped drinking it since the new year. I've limited myself to firefly... only occasionally. But it's wonderful! Half firefly half sweet and sour...splash of water and a twist of lemon...GOOD STUFF! And what's more...I'm like a word waterfall. Mom and dad say if they ever want me to talk about how I'm feeling, they're giving me a drink. Haha. Just a word for all the friends... drink responsibly. Never drink and drive. Bahahaha.