In trying to sort out this mortgage, I have spent painstaking hours on the phone between Equifax, Fico, and my auto finance company trying to convince someone, anyone, to listen and help me to get my payments showing on mine and Tom's credit report so we can get approved for a loan. This is a frustrating process regardless, but the fact that I'm having to deal with calling India, every time I call Equifax just serves to make the process even more difficult. The thing that amazes me is that somehow no matter who I speak to, they have an American name. I never get a Raj, Vijay, or Indira. Instead I get Mary, Joe, and Chris. Even when Chris pronounces his name "Curse", I'm not supposed to question it. I'm not sure what the purpose of assigning these monikers to the call center reps is, it certainly doesn't trick me into thinking I'm talking to someone in West Virginia.
I understand that in order to save money so much has to be outsourced to India where the exchange rate is good and the work is cheap, but it'd be nice if I could speak to someone for which my responses weren't being translated and then a script being read in response. Especially when it comes to my credit report. This is serious stuff yet someone who works for far less than $8 an hour is expected to give me meaningful responses to my queries. I surely pity the poor sap who has his identity stolen, as I can't clear up even the most minor of issues.
It really chaps my ass that my credit report, one of the most instrumental things in helping me to attain life goals, is help in the hands of people who probably don't even understand the way credit works in America. All the time I have spent on the phone and yet I stil know absolutely nothing about the way this reporting system really works. I am starting to think the whole thing is a racket. No one can give a finite answer to anything and while my credit rating goes into the toilet over minor errors, I can hear the sitar playing in background at the call center while Mary and Chris discuss in Farsi how royally screwed I am.
Let me get this straight, I have nothing against Indian people, but when the unemployment rate hovers at 12% in the states, people are starving, and I can't get aynthing better than a preformulated answer from a script, I have to ask myself who really loses?
Now, I must go, the latest bollywood film is on, and my curry is getting cold.
Upon spending the night in angst wondering if I would spend it the way I did last night....up all night, tossing and turning, stressing that my little one was finally in her own, big girl, room. I decided to relax with a Cuba Libre and think about how this journey has been.
Before becoming "mommy" I played many parts. The angsty teen, the independant lady, the hysterical lovestruck dame, the drunken party girl, the wallowing despondant, then finally the baffled and moody pregnant woman. Each of these rles didn't quite fit, but they fit at the time. Finding my identity was a process of epic proportions. Each taught me a bit about people, a bit about life, a bit about myself. Each inched me closer to something. whether that something be eternal despair or exhillarated triumph was anyone's guess. But I find that they all are small, if fragmented, pieces of the whole.
A friend reminded me today of a place I was in my life not long ago. A place where I was loved, but still not fully "me". A place where I was out of place although my situation was bordering on perfect. I found myself back in that place while attempting to console her and I remembered just the depth of my self-disdain. I've come a long road since then. I have achieved more in my interpersonal life than I ever thought I was capable of. I have become a woman I never thought I would be, inside and out. And I realize how far from the depths I started in, I have rised.
I think it is only through our tests and trials. Our moments of giving up. Our moments of fleeting fullment that somehow leave us empty. And then our finally making the attempt to see in ourselves what it is so many others see in us that we gain some sort of steady ground. That we finally say "Life...it ain't so bad", and, perhaps more importantly, "Fuck YoU!" to the haters. And by haters, I refer to anyone that makes us think we can't do it. Even if those haters are pieces of ourselves.
I hurt for my friend, because I was there and I know how real it is, and how despairing. But I also smile for her because I know that she is well on her way to a kind of contentment that I never knew I could feel. And I think the only reason that it is SO real for me as it is, is because the reality of the despair I felt before didn't fade, but only serves to underline the sheer joy that coming out on the other side of it can be.
To get there is to finally see the solace and peace that life was meant to be. But the journey, long and arduous as it is, is perhaps the greatest and most profound that life can offer, as it becomes your measuring stick for how very far you have come, and how good it feels on that other side.
Lots has changed in the D. household in the last few weeks. Namely, the sleep situation. If you remember I was pulling my newly grayed hair out over the sleep, or lack thereof that had been occuring, oh, just since Lyla was a neonate. Since I last wrote it has gotten better and better. Now she usually goes to sleep within seconds to minutes with very little, if any, crying. And I can assure you, there is a lot less crying in our household overall (from me as well!). Also she's now sleeping through the night from 8:30 - 6 then nursing for 10 minutes and sleeping till 8:30...can I get an A-MEN?!? I am suddenly discovering what its like not to be teetering on the brink of meltdown everyday, and I must say, it's quite enjoyable.
The other big news around here is that we put an offer on a house (eek!) It's absolutely gorgeous and as long as the mortgage works out, it looks like we may get it! Unfortunately, the mortgage is a big source of stress around here. Tom is English. Tom doesn't have a credit score. Tom has credit originating from the car we bought in December. The payments STILL aren't showing up. I have called everyone and their mother at Equifax and Toyota and asserted that ignorant people in India and dumbasses in Alabama are both a huge source of disdain for me. We are now PAYING to put these things on our credit report. Thanks a LOT Toyota! Bastards. Lame.
But hopefully we shall find out by Wed if that gives Tom a credit score and if we can get a mortgage. Here's some pics of the house...I will be so bummed if we don't get it because I seriously want to make out with the back yard. Seriously.
And, perhaps most important: I made carrot cake. from scratch. That's right, what started out as a bunch of carrots and flour and sugar, etc, became a moist delicious cake that was nothing if not profoundly spiritual. I decided to make the cake due to three carrots residing in my fridge for far too long... I am concerned that if I continue this line of thought my next cake will be a green pepper/red onion cake. I don't think even Martha Stewart could pull that one off. However this cake was amazeballs! Enjoy the yummy picture below. 
Hungry?
That's all for now. Stay classy San diego.
Well in the three weeks since I have posted things have changed quite dramatically. School was absolutely kicking my ass, so I didn't really have time to devote to updating the blog, but today is my last day (thank jesus, mary, joseph, and johnny walker!). I am really glad to be finished with this class, it was hard core. Thankfully it appears I will be able to maintain my 4.0...at least until the dreaded math class starts in two weeks (help me please!).
Anyway, after I wrote about our sleep struggles thinks progressively got worse, if that was even possible. I was walking around like a zombie all day and about one minutes more lack of sleep away from trying to start the stroller with my keys when we had a breakthrough! We decided to check out a sleep book called "solve your child's sleep problems" by Richard Ferber. As a big proponent of attachment parenting, I'd been scared off this book by the mistaken assumption being passed around to everyone that this is simply a lock-your-kid-in-a-dark-room-forever sleep solution book, but out of sheer desperation I clamored for anything that could help. Much to my pleasant surprise that was not the case. Ferber advocates something called 'progressive waiting' where you put the baby to bed and you come in at timed intervals that slowly increase over time. I was still trepidatious as a mother who cannot stand to hear her baby cry, but I figured that I needed to do something, and that she cries even when you rock her so it wouldn't really be anything new.
Well let me tell you, the first tme was horrible. I cried when reading her her story before bed, on the way to the drugstore (to buy alcohol, can you blame me?), on the way back, and as soon as I walked through the door. I actually relagated myself out front with my glass of wine in tow to avoid listening to it. Lo, and behold, after 45 minutes she was out. I couldn't believe it. I was sure she'd scream all night, which I knew I couldn't go for, and I'd have to give up. Well the subsequent times took 30 minutes, then 20, then last night 6! Yes, I said six! Six Tiny Minutes and she was out!!! and then she slept all night until 4am, nursed and went back to sleep till 9! I am amazed. This has the potential to change our lives.
Meanwhile, I tossed and turned all night, unused to the aby not being beside me. I hope Ferber wrote a book for grown-ups...
Welcome
Current mood:babyfied
Ten fingers, ten toes,
a perfect construction
A smile so large
one good introduction
Big wide eyes
knowing all in one look
A baby too beautiful
to go by the book
One candy nose
crinkling quick with such pleasure
and two ears follow suit
in a beautiful measure
arms that just grasp
with the greatest of ease
and the quick tiny fingers
just begging "mom please"
a tooth over gum
greets days with a smile
while love and pure laughter
lingers for awhile
little hands little toes
i cherish right now
pray your littles will last
for forever somehow
My camera does actually. But I can pass the skills off as my own. Today we went to the ocean inlet park to meet my friend Liz and her son Lucas. Getting there was a bit of a mission considering Lyla was not terribly cooperative. When we got there, Liz has gotten me a sandwich from the shop and Lyla was eying it right away. ((I feel guilty eating in front of her anymore) So I gave her some avocado expecting the same 'ick' face she usually makes but she was digging it. Then Liz gave her a rice cake which she loved. (Gotta bear that in mind, cheaper than baby food). After a while I put Lyla in the sand to play. She actually started crawling for real! This is the first time she's done that. Though she did clunk her head once and fall over once. She's actually got it though and before she could never really be bothered.
After awhile on the playground we stripped the babes down and put them on the beach. Liz's camera died shortly thereafter so I took all the photos. I got mad skills. Here are a couple of my faves:
The pics came out great but Lyla ate her weight in sand. I feel bad for her when that comes out the other side!
At least in our household. I don't pretend that I'm the only mom whose got issues with sleep with their kids, but it certainly feels that way when you haven't had a decent night's sleep in over 7 months.
When Lyla was born we made the decision to cosleep. Well, not so much made the decision as mommy had 7 hours of sleep in 7 days and couldn't take it anymore so pulled baby into her bed. Well fast forward 7 months and it used to go well. We'd sleep pretty good together but lately Lyla has been waking up every hour or so to nurse. Every time I blink wrong she wakes and wants to nurse. And now she isn't even sleepig in so I am getting 6 maybe 7 hours of interrupted sleep a night. I feel like I am losing my mind.
We decided to start getting her to sleep in her crib a couple weeks ago and let's just say it hasn't been easy. When she finally does sleep in there, I lay awake for hours just missing her. I never though MY ability to sleep would be an issue!
Well the middle-of-the-night waking have been awful as well. The hubby has been helping out but it's been ugly. Let's just say that neither of us are the nicest people at 2am. Add to that the fact that apparently my husband can't tell the difference between a full bottle and an empty one (somehow administering it incorrectly) and, well, this sleep situation has reached a fever pitch. As of the last couple of nights, she's been back to sleeping with me and at this rate I hope she goes to college locally because I don't want to have to move so she can go to sleep with me.
Oh well, maybe someday I will have a dream or two again. Not tonight.
My camera arrived in the mail today. At three. P... M......... Ok, that isn't late at all but when you've waited a week for something you desperately want it feels like forever. I was like a miniature shnauzer pressing my head up to the front screen door every 10 minutes or so this morning waiting, just waiting, for the 'brrrrr' sound of the UPS van to pull up. If I had a tail it would've wagged incessantly... I had to manage my time effectively so what did I decide to do? Well, bake biscuits, of course! Bear in mind that I have no idea how to bake biscuits, nor have I ever attempted it but this seemed like an appropriate endeavour for 9:30 am anyway. My mind jumped immediately to the taste of a fluffy, hot, buttery biscuit and how good it would be with some bacon and eggs... Come 1:30 this afternoon on batch #2 of the biscuits I was just praying they'd come out edible so I could eat my lunch. Batch #1 put the hardness of hockey pucks to shame (I still tried to eat them) well by the end of batch two they still looked nothing like the picture but, hey, they didn't make me gag and that was a triumph in my eyes. Well after lunch I had to get the baby down for a nap. Lo, and behold, the UPS package was primed for when I leave the room. The baby, just on the edge of slumber, started wailing as I poked my head out the front door to make sure my mother signed for the package (she got roped into this biscuit making deal upfront). So I get back to Lyla, who is now screaming, and I know my camera is sitting on the table outside. I haven't gotten this excited since I got a barbie dreamshouse......so I bring the baby out of the room and try to console her, meanwhile trying to strategically open the camera with my mind alla Uri Gellar, but to no avail. Luckily my mom was happy to play with the baby while I played with my new toy.
I was sure I'd be snapping great shots and blowing people away with my artistic vision in a matter of minutes........Flash to reality and 15 minutes later I'm scanning the pages of the manual for the instructions for how to put the camera strap on.
I'm in trouble.
All the literature I read online prior to buying this piece of equipment said how it was idiotproof. Learning would be easy while you snap away taking amazing photos on the auto settings. I CAN'T EVEN INSTALL A CAMERA STRAP!!!!! I feel a bit lost off the bat.
Anyway, I still went out to the park after, and I feel like I got some great shots (even if I did have to tape the shutter to my finger) ...Hey eventually something sticks right?
Here's some photos:
I meet up with a local moms group a couple times a week to take Lyla to different outings (the park, play gyms, etc) and one of the girls that frequents these has a 13 mo old son. Her and I get along really well and the other day we met up at the park and she told me she was planning to start trying to have another baby soon. My visceral reaction was 'ugh'. Then I realized that me and Tom planned to start trying to have a baby when Lyla turns 1. Then I thought about all the 'fun' aspects of pregnancy - the stretch marks, the cravings, the nausea, the edema. And I realized that we were supposed to start trying in less than six months and I just started to get a bit of my freedom back with the fact that Lyla takes a bottle now and I can go out every now and again. I don't know if I'm ready for spending every night in for 9 months then another 6 months and breastfeeding on demand every hour and a half and staying up all night (and not in the fun way). Add to that that at the end of my last pregnancy I exploded to a size that was just uncalled for and made me look like octomom and I cower in fear at the thought of another pregnancy.
I must admit, there were times where I absolutely LOVED being pregnant (not to mention milked it for all that it was worth i.e. "I'm seven months pregnant, I can't MOP the FLOOR!")but I just don't know if I am ready. I think the more time that passes the blurrier the memories become of the reality of pregnancy and that is what tricks us into doing it more than once. I guess my memories are still a little too fresh. The concept of the stork coming to deliver the baby on the door step is really looking good right now. I want the baby, but not the fat-faced, small-bladdered, moody, irritable, pukey, swollen beast I become when pregnant. Can someone show me a loophole? PRETTY PLEASE?????
Well I can't believe it's been so long since the last time I posted. This blog started out as a journey through my pregnancy but I've decided to keep track of the goings on as and when I can. Motherhood is such a life-changing event and I really don't want to miss a thing. But I also realize that I need to take time for me and not forget the person that I was before my little angel was born. First things first, I'm going to post my birth story below this entry because I think it bears mentioning! Since then things have been insaaaaane. I haven't had much time to even sit down let along consider writing for any purpose. But the thing is, life is so much more colorful, so much more beautiful now and I wouldn't trade it for the world. My little girl is seven months old now and growing right before my eyes. She's such an amazing kid. She's funny, bright, sweet, and absolutely gorgeous. She really makes life worth living. Here's a recent photo: 
And speaking of photos, My first 'real' camera is coming in the mail within the next few days. I'm excited as I've always wanted to get serious about photography and I finally can now. I hope at some point to start a side business doing it but it's mostly for entertainment purposes. I honestly just need to do something that is just for me and this is the perfect hobby. Here's the camera that I'm getting 
Isn't she beautiful?
I'll try to post more often but life is nothing if not unpredictable these days so I make no promises.
Lyla's birth story is below
After a night of almost no sleep due to nerves and also to Lyla moving around in my belly like crazy (rare for her), we arrived at the hospital at 10:10 am to get ready for the c/s. They admitted us finally at 10:40 and we went up to the room. I was relatively calm in the beginning, until the anesthesiologist came in. The nurse then went to put in my IV and hit a valve in my vein which was so incredibly painful. It took them several minutes to fix the IV at which point the pain was so bad I was crying. That coupled with the nerves I was feeling made me bawl for many minutes afterward. I was seriously nervous about the surgery and honestly wanted to back out although I knew that wasn't actually an option. They wheeled me over to the OR around 12:40 and I said goodbye to my husband while they prepped me and administered the spinal. I couldn't believe how intense the spinal felt, it was completely bizarre. Luckily I could see DH through a glass window in the OR which helped to keep me calm. They finally told him he could come in which was good b/c I started to feel really terrible. They said my BP was dropping and gave me some kind of drug to bring it back up which helped slightly but not completely. I was feeling really out of it and sick and then my BP dropped again and they had to give me more medication. I thought I was going to be sick but I had nothing in my tummy to bring up. I could barely feel the doc at all, so the spinal must have taken incredibly well. After what seemed like hours but was only a few minutes I could hear them saying they were pulling her out. They then dropped the curtain so I could see her being born. It was so surreal. They said she started pooping as soon as she was born which made me laugh a little. I couldn't believe it. She was born at 1:05pm and was 8lbs 6 oz and 21 inches long with a 9/9 on her apgars!!! She started crying and it was such a loud healthy cry, it was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard. They took her over to wipe her off and suction her for what felt like a million years. The whole time I just kept saying "oh my god, oh my god"...I couldn't believe it. I started to feel really sick again while I was waiting for her but just when I thought I might throw up they brought her over and for some reason I immediately forgot how bad I was feeling. I held her and started talking to her and she stopped crying right away. It was the coolest thing. She looked at me with those big beautiful eyes and I fell so deeply in love with her it was unbelieveable. They took her to the nursery while they stitched me up and then I waited in recovery for a long time for her. I couldn't believe how tiny she was. eight pounds sounds so big and then I was holding this tiny baby. My recovery went pretty well in the hospital and she breastfed like a champ despite some shallow latch issues we started out with. I still can't believe I'm a mommy or how I ever lived without this little person. It is the most profound thing that has ever happened to me.
