Tuned Out, Timed Out

Okay, I have been dutifully chastized for not keeping up with this. I apologize to those few who are following my story for not having updated my blog. There are two reasons: 1.) I can't update it from work, which is where I used to do it (until they sent a company e-mail around saying they are watching us and please do it on our own time), and 2.) my e-mail connection at home has been sporadic at best, so much for all the hype about wireless connection!

But I have also found that lately, all I want to do is coast through my life. I am absolutely happy right where I am: with my 2 year old son who is doing phenomenal, and just enough pregnant with my second child, a girl. It's like I don't want this season to end. There is so much goodness about it, so much happy anticipation of things to come. I know that things change, but for right now it feels as if I more content with my life than I ever have been. And that is good.

I also sense the days rushing by me, faster than I want them to, because I know that our lives will be different when we have the second child. I'm actually more worried about how Owen will react. So far, up until this point, Owen has had the attention of both myself and Erik, and when the new baby comes it will change. There will be other changes as well. He will be starting a new school, a drop off class, and I'm not sure how he is going to handle it. But for now, every afternoon that I have the chance, I lay down with him to help him fall asleep and revel in the way he plays with my fingers until his eyes close and then his sweet breath grows even. I'm going to miss having so much time with Owen, and so many opportunities to slow down and enjoy the moment. I know that he will grow up as well, and soon he won't even need his naps, which is why I spoil him when I'm home. I'm sure there is some baby book somewhere that says I should just put him in his crib and make him take a nap.

I now have about 12 friends who are pregnant, and all due in the spring. I'm glad, though, that I am due at least two months ahead of them, because there is just something about the comparison game (that my MIL loves to play) that I can't stand. Especially since we obviously failed in the comparison game last time by having a child with Down Syndrome, and didn't get the typical everything-is-fine-go-home-and-be-exhausted-parents title.

On the other hand, one of my friends just had her second miscarriage, at 11 weeks. Her last miscarriage was at 14 weeks, and before that she had a typical child who is a month older than my son. Before that, she lost her first child at 9 months due to spina bifada and complications in the NICU. So, why is it always people who have had enough problems, that continue to have problems? All she wants is a second, healthy child. And now, she's having trouble carrying a baby to term. I don't understand it. And most of all, I don't understand why it can't be one of those people I know who are pregnant with their second and COMPLAINING about how they hate being pregnant and they just want to get it over with. Obviously, these are people who have never had a miscarriage and wouldn't understand what it means to deal with any fertility issues.

So life goes, and we continue, hoping and praying for some semblance of a good life. As my husband often tells me, we have a lot to be thankful for, and I am reminded of that every day when I look at my son and see how well he is doing. Other people might look at us and pity us because we have a child with Down Syndrome, but I know better. I got the sweet love child that other people are afraid they 'can't handle.'

October Already!

I can't believe we're in October already. It seems as if the months have flown by, although I'm sure when I get bigger and more uncomfortable I'm not going to feel the same. I'm 22 weeks now, and suffering through a terrible cold. The worst part is that I can't take anything for it, and it has created a terrible sinus headache on top of endless sneezing and wiping my nose. Owen started out with a cold, and then I got it. Usually, I'm pretty good about not getting sick, I keep myself pretty healthy. But, my awful MIL and I recently got in a fight which caused stress that I didn't need. Then I got sick, and it's probably because it's an easy way for me to be forced to hide from the world.

My girlfriend thinks I should be writing a sitcom about my MIL, but I really think that most people wouldn't believe the things she says to people and how mean she is. The other day, I asked her to pick up a child's rocker at a garage sale (and yes, it was a very feminine looking rocker, but it's really none of her business why I'm buying it), and she got on the phone to me and started yelling at me about how I have such awful taste and there is no way she is going to let her grandson use that rocker since it is clearly too feminine for him. She refused to buy it, and I ended up hanging up on her. Regrettably, this is many years of her thinking she can tell me how awful things are that I buy and put in my house or wear, and has constantly told me that I have bad taste. If you ask my friends, they adore my house and think I have good taste. So, I decided that I could really care less at this point whether we speak again or not, and I called my sister-in-law and told her we are having a girl, and I have been telling everyone, except her, that we are having a girl. I'm hoping it gets back to her through the grapevine, because I don't really feel as if she deserves the respect of me telling her. I know Erik is bothered by everything going on, and in the end, he's not really sure what to do about letting her know we are having a girl. I told him I don't care when he chooses to tell her, it's just not coming from my mouth. And, I'm going to leave all the girl baby clothes that I got from a friend out in the open, so when she goes snooping through my things, as she probably does, she will inevitably question why I have them.

My husband wishes I could be more like him and just let it roll off my shoulders, but I just never counted on having a bitch as a MIL. Not only has she made it perfectly clear that we should have aborted our first child, because he wasn't "perfect" enough, but she seems to feel she can continue to tell me how to run my life. I'm 38 years old, even my own mother doesn't try to control me like she does!

She is just a miserable old woman, and it's sad because she has so much. They own two beautiful houses, one in Hollywood and one in Malibu, she has money to travel and do what she likes, she has two healthy sons and three healthy grandchildren. But, apparently, that is not enough. She needs to be bitter about everything. God, I hope I'm not like that when I'm old.