Sorry I was late, I had to get my cardio in.

I like to think that Amy Schumer and I are somewhat kindred spirits, and that if we met some day, we would be the best of friends.  And maybe she would take me to a Billy Joel concert to sing on stage.  And we could laugh at people working out at the gym.

People who work out seriously kill me.  I see people running (always for fun, never from a murderer or for a purpose), and I immediately laugh.  I’m a terrible person, I already know this.  No need to remind me.  Maybe it’s because I’m partly jealous that I don’t have that kind of discipline?

And I’m also a hypocrite, because I used to go to hot yoga.  I loved yoga so much.  Made my body actually feel good instead of feeling like I was hit by a train the next day.  But then, I got pregnant.  Doctors frown upon doing exercise in a 100 degree room when you are trying to hold onto all of your nutrients/ hydration because you have hyperemesis gravidarum.  So goodbye yoga!  And yes, I know you are thinking “Doesn’t she have an 18 month old?  She could have gone back to yoga by now”…to which I say, screw that.  Any extra time I have on my hands is now spent sleeping or eating, especially now that I am pregnant again (I know, who plans this shit?!)….but that is okay.  Because this will be the last one.  FOR SURE.  So maybe in a year or two I will get my yoga back.  By then, I’ll probably want it back.

Anyhow, hypocrite or not, I head over to the babysitter’s house to get Kenzie a few weeks back.  It’s about 5:05 when I get there.  Kenzie always runs from me when I get there.  She looks really happy and excited that I am there, but then runs straight in the other direction.  Right after I walk in, another Dad walks in.  We will call him Dan.  Dan says, “Sorry I’m a little late, I had to get my cardio in”….  You guys, I almost laughed in his face because I thought he was joking around like how Fat Amy talked about cardio on Pitch Perfect.  Luckily, I did not laugh.  He was dead serious.  He and his wife work out at the gym together and even pay for a trainer.  Holy hell!  I could think of one hundred better things to do with your money than pay a trainer to make you work out.  Pizza and cupcakes are at the top of that list.  I mean, I get winded walking up our stairs at home.  But that’s just me.

And now I’m off to eat some Halloween candy.  I can’t wait til Kenzie is old enough to go trick-or-treating so I can steal her candy the way my parents stole mine.  “Here, have this quinoa bar instead, and I will have the Reese’s since you don’t want your teeth to rot..”

 

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Today, I am thankful for my job.

*Note – this was written a few weeks ago*

I bitch about my job a lot.  A LOT.  I generally have to deal with a lot of dumb people (both from the public side and people who work here), and a lot of drama.

But during and after pregnancy, I probably couldn’t ask for a better or more flexible job.

And let’s talk health insurance for a brief moment.  I had heard horror stories about how expensive it could be to have a baby in a hospital, even with the proper health insurance.  As in even after insurance coverage, you own hundreds, sometimes thousands.  I was preparing myself for the worst.  I had learned tricks about how you can call and ask for a discount if you pay for everything in one big payment.  Ugh.  I even prepared Mike for it.

After our fancy hospital stay (I really enjoyed it actually, aside from the lack of sleep), we got our first bill.  I assumed it was just for Kenzie or just a small part of it all.  Total amount due was $14.  Or maybe less.  I can’t really remember.  But it was for both mine and my daughter’s stay at the hospital.  Labor, delivery, hanging out for two days after in the mother baby wing…  I kept waiting for another bill to come, but it did not.  Insurance covered nearly everything.  So basically, I can never get another job until I am done having kids.  Or getting sick.   Government insurance is the best insurance.  Pay isn’t the best, but the benefits will always be worth it.  We even get a $1,000 Benny card.  You can use this card to pay for prescriptions, co-pays, or even (in my case) breast pumps!  YEAH!

Insurance details aside, I have had two rough pregnancies (so far).  Lots of nausea, lots of puking, lots of tears.  When you are feeling that sick, it’s really hard to stay motivated, no matter what your job is.  I am blessed to have an office with a door, a parking space that is incredibly close to the entrance, and a boss who is flexible with my schedule and understanding.  Things could be a lot worse for me.  There were times during my pregnancy with Kenzie when I got so sick at work that all I could do was sit in the conference room with my head on the table in the dark.  Or all I could do was sit on the ground of my office pretending to file things or read through papers.   But I got through it, and no one questioned me.  So I have to remember that.

And now, I have the luxury of leaving the office at lunch whenever I want, and spending an hour with my daughter at the babysitter’s or taking her to the park, and picking her up right at 5 p.m.   Never have to worry about overtime, or getting calls while I’m at home.

And finally, a prime example this week of why I appreciate this flexible, shitty job.

Kenzie had a fever starting on Monday.  I stayed home with her on Tuesday and brought her to the doctor.  The doctor said she believed it was the start of Hand, Foot, Mouth disease.  The only indicator was that when she looked in her mouth, she thought she saw a few blister-like things.  Plus the fever, and her lack of appetite (because maybe her throat hurt).  I ask what we can do or what medicine we can give her.  “You just have to wait it out, you can give her Tylenol for the fever.  Usually takes 3 to 5 days to run its course”….FANTASTIC.

Anyhow, I’m still not certain it was in fact hand, foot, mouth (which by the way never existed when we were kids to my knowledge, so where are these viruses coming from?!).  She doesn’t have anything on her hands, feet, or booty (no rash or anything).  Maybe we just got lucky with a very mild case or it is just a random virus.  Either way, I was able to take off Tuesday and Wednesday (very last minute) to take care of baby girl, since you cannot send her to the babysitter with an infection that could be spread to others.  My mom came over Thursday so I could go back to work, and Mike is taking off Friday.  I always get stuck taking more time off, but we will chalk it up to the fact that his job is a little more demanding than mine.  Whatever.  I’d rather be home anyhow.  BUT, I really should be saving my time now for the next baby.  Needless to say, I will be working from home more than I had to with Kenzie.

So yes, my job blows sometimes, but today, I will take it and remember that it will be worth it in the long run.  If only they had paid maternity leave.

Life Insurance? WTF.

I am so tired of adulting.  Yep, just made up that term.

Tonight, we have a representative (who also happens to be a good friend), coming over so that we can sign off on a life insurance policy.

Yes, we both have life insurance through our respective jobs, but it probably wouldn’t be enough now that we have Kenzie.

So we prepare for the worst and hope for the best.

Mike basically said, “I would be fine on my own with Kenzie, but if something happened to me, I would want to make sure you guys were taken care of”  ….I joked and said, “thanks a lot, I know my salary blows”

I thought the life insurance was a month-to-month thing, but you actually pay by year (in our case).  So bye-bye $1,400.  I suppose it is a small price to pay for security.  Mike will have a 30 year policy, and mine will only be for 20 years.  I am dumb when it comes to this kind of stuff, so I asked why we couldn’t just take out policies when we are like 50.  Evidently, it is much more expensive to start a plan at that age, since you are growing closer to death.  WTF?  I guess it makes sense.  Could you imagine a 90 year old taking out a policy?  They probably wouldn’t even approve it.  We will at least be locked in to our $1,400 per year/ $1 mil benefit, and it’s not going to double as a retirement fund in the event that we don’t use it (you can end up losing a ton of money on those depending on how the money is invested, and we don’t really want to gamble with our future).

This life insurance policy also requires them to come to our HOUSE and take a blood test and urine sample.  I questioned this, of course.  “Why can’t I go to my own doctor?  I don’t want some random dude missing a vein and poking me with a needle!”  I guess it is all part of the contract though, because if you were to go to your own doctor, they could POTENTIALLY write down any results you wanted, ignoring that you might have some health issues (for a price) to make sure you pass the medical portion/ rates won’t go up before you are indeed insured.  CRAZY.

I’m so glad my husband thinks of these things, because I am a moron when it comes to financial stability most of the time.  This is all to make sure Kenzie is taken care of if we kick the bucket early.  Whatever it takes!

 

 

The First Three Weeks

This is a post I started a long time ago, obviously, but just now posting.   Funny to look back on.  It’s fitting, since she FINALLY slept through the night last night (March 8, 2016 = add to list of milestones).  If we have any other kiddos, this will be a good post to look back on.  I’m finally starting to feel like myself again, almost one year later.  Or maybe this will remind me we don’t want any other kiddos?  Ha!  As always, sorry for the profanity.  I was in the moment!
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So, we just started our fourth week of “Life with Kenzie”…

Just to give you an idea of how things are going, here is a scenario that just happened:

Because of the shitty day that it has been, I decided we *must* get out of the house.  Mama needed some coffee.  So to Dunkin Donuts we went!  I even brought the freaking dog so that no one would feel left out.  I had planned to leave the house around 2, so that we would avoid any and all school, lunch, or rush hours.  Want to know what time we left the house at?  4:47 p.m.  At that point, my mind was set on coffee, so we were going to make a run for it.

Baby Girl did good, at first.  I wish she could take a note or two from our dog.  He’s fantastic at car rides.  So I pull up at the drive thru at Dunkin and order my wonderful coffee and two chocolate glazed donuts.  One for me, and one for my husband for the morning.  And if he didn’t want it, then there would be two for me!  Fantastic.

So I ordered our stuff (no cries), and then pulled around to the window.  The lady saw the dog and gave me a cookie for him, which he was stoked about.  She must have missed the baby carrier, because maybe then she would have handed me a flask.  As we drove away from Dunkin Donuts, baby girl erupted with tears.  Ah yes, we had only been in the car for five tiny minutes, and that was enough for her to lose her shit.  I was contemplating driving around a bit more after we got our goodies, but her tone got louder and more ear piercing, so home we went.  Once I put the carrier down in the dining room table, she shut up.  WHAT THE FUCK.  I left her there for about 20 minutes as she slept, and then she woke up.  She must have forgotten that she was strapped in, because she was PISSED!  The mother of all screams came forth, so I took her out.  My fear is that if I go on a road trip with her, she will fall asleep in the car and then wake up forgetting what the hell is going on and let out that raging scream.

Excuse me, she just crapped her diaper while sitting in my lap.  That’s how loud she is when she poops and/ or farts.  Like a 40 year old man!  She’ll thank me for this post later.

Okay, 30 minutes later…(she went through two extra diapers..I think I’m so smooth to throw a new diaper under her butt once I wipe her off AND swipe out the old one at the same time…and then she pees on the new one AND her outfit…so I wipe her and give her another new one…she poops some more on that one….)   Then she’s hungry.  So I nursed her.  It literally felt like she was ripping off my nipple at the end of the 20 minutes.  And all the lactation consultants say, “you’re doing it wrong if it hurts”  – I call bullshit!