The Daily Toilings Of A Part Time Stay At Home Mom

One of my first posts was my baby girls  birth story.  In all honesty I think the reason I started the blog was to get my story out there.  By  out there  I mean taking all the emotions I had tied up in the experience and spilling them into the interweb hoping to find companions in the misery I experienced for almost 7 and a half months.  To help me justify my feelings.  Even the ones that crop up to this day. Up till that point in my life I had never really dealt with something as hard and confusing as Isabella's prenatal testing ordeal.  With my first pregnancy I signed up for the nuchal translucency test not because I was concerned about my babies chromosome count, it was simply because the test included a ultrasound.  Any chance to see the blob with a flickering white shadow again was a chance to be taken.  I honestly did not even know what they were looking at in the NT ultrasound with Noah nor did I care.  The ultrasound at 13 weeks was a whole baby!  Complete with arms

It is the month of October so that means two things, one, it is breast cancer awareness month and two, it is time to pump the septic system.  I know that I have mentioned this before here,  but it is worth mentioning again since it causes me great distress each time.  There is just something about a big giant truck with the word SEPTIC painted across the side, sitting in your driveway with a huge hose pulled out across your lawn humming loudly while your crap gets pumped out of a buried concrete box. a diagram for your viewing pleasure I get the privilege of greeting this man once a year in October.  It is such a special time.  This year he came while the kids and I were outside playing.  I was just waiting for Noah to ask him what he was doing..."ohhhhh I am just here to suck all the poo out of your crap tank!"  Thankfully Noah spared me this one time.  I don't think there was any question what the man was doing in the side yard once the smell started to permeate.

A list of events from the previous week that have taken a year off my life. The weekend of October 6th, Dov and I celebrated our 6 year wedding anniversary.  It was wonderful.  We were able to convince the grandparents that they should spend some quality time with the kids (overnight), and also got my parents to watch the dog so we could have a solid evening and morning without kids or animals.  The trouble started when we got home.  Tahoe, the dog, starts this strange wheezing, shallow breathing, hacking up mucus thing.  He seemed in enough distress that I believed for a few hours that this might be the end.  He kind of snaped out of it by bedtime so we chalked it up to anxiety from the weekend away etc. (he is a huge pussy).  By the morning though things were right back to bad.  Of course Dov is now at work and I have the kids, one of which I have to drive back and forth to the elementary school about a dozen times a day.  The vet makes me a appointment for 3:30 and tells me to

When we bought our house here in southern New Hampshire I knew that it would be a little more "woodsy" then where I grew up in the suburbs of Boston.  I mean we had deer in our backyard when I was a kid and my parents even maintained a small farm so I really didn't think that our little 2 acre parcel in Wilton NH was going to be that far from what I saw growing up in Hopkinton.  I should also state that I honestly didn't have a clue about where I was moving to.  When we were looking to purchase a house we were living in Virginia and had all of a 3 day trip (me alone with a infant and a toddler) to find and make a offer (basically give them what they wanted because we didn't have time to F around) on a house. Purchasing a home with a crunch deadline is by far one of the worst things you can do.  It leads to trouble undoubtedly.  Basically the same thing that happens to everyone happens to you multiplied by ten.  You LOVE the house when you are at the open house,

Alright, all of my family already know this and possibly some of my friends, but I am a true pussy when it comes to illness.  I mean MOST normal people do not enjoy getting sick.  Not only do I not enjoy being sick I hate it when anyone remotely near me or potentially near me is sick.  If I have been around you and I find out you have come down with something shortly after we have had contact, I will spend the next week convincing myself that I surely contracted whatever E bola virus you have been stricken with.  I feel a sense of doom usually reserved for people recently diagnosed with terminal illness.  SERIOUS, SEVERE, GOD AWFUL, PIT IN THE STOMACH (first sign of stomach illness BTW) FEAR.  It is debilitating. I can tell you in all honesty that when I was 7 months pregnant with Noah I suddenly realized that this precious, untouched, germless baby was going to be born and someday would get sick and puke.  PUKE, I said it, the one thing besides snakes that can send shivers down my

It is no secret that I love thrift.  Second hand?  Sure.  Yard sales?  Bring it.  Free trash  treasure on the side of the road?  Yes sir!  Flea markets?  Couldn't think of a better way to spend a Sunday.  I have no issue whatsoever admitting that I am cheap.  Hell, I don't even think of it as cheap...I fancy myself smarter then the average bear!  Until it comes to several items.  This list will contain some of the things I keep buying cheaply and over and over again.  They always disappoint in some massive, catastrophic way and therefore lead to gigantic arguments when husband discovers that, yet again, I have bought dollar store deodorant, or god forbid...trash bags. I will begin with trash bags.  Every time I go to the dollar tree I have memory loss when I reach the trash bags. Each trip I take I inevitably leave with a box.  The lesson in what gargantuan pieces of shit they are was learned when we lived in our first 3rd floor walk up.  To be perfectly honest, Dov discover