Disagreements

My hubby and I have been going at it for about a week now. (And not in a good way.) We don't fight much,  but it gets very quiet in the house. I don't want to fight. I don't know how to fight. I get so angry, embarrassed, and frustrated. I can't even get out a complete, coherent sentence. It hurts my heart. It makes me question our relationship. Why should it be so easy to call it quits? There was a blog post today that spoke to me. She said it better than I could.

http://nurshable.com/2013/11/25/the-fight

I hope it speaks to your heart.

Cowboy

Today is my cowboy's death day.  It's been 7 years since we lost him. (That makes him sound like a misplaced toy. And I start to cry thinking about it.) It's so much more than that... he's so much more than that. I have no words to explain this loss has done to me...to my family. It has changed us all.

It's interesting how today creeps in on me now, after 7 years. I always think I'm fine. I keep busy and then I have moments like this where it hits me.

My top 10 favorite things about my cowboy, in no particular order:
1. He was.
2. He was so easy to love.
3. Just by being,  he changed people's lives.
4. He loved strongly. (Horses, Bear, Pa-paw, Grammy, westerns... there's too many things to list)
5. He was mine.
6. All he went through didn't steal his joy.
7. His favorite thing to do when we got home was kick dust in his boots.
8. He loved the color green but not green food.
9. He was fast like a cheetah.
10. Toward the end,  when he was still practically paralyzed on one side of his body, he would crawl through the house to find me just duo he could tell me he loved me. I must've heard it a thousand times.
11. He loved Santa Claus. (Obsessively watched the movies and found him in Ralph's one day.)

I know that's 11. There are so many more. Yes, I'm crying. Yes, I will always miss him this way.

Got milk?

Recently, I've been following lots of breastfeeding and natural parenting advocacy pages on the internet. I'm interested in what they all have to say. I'm astounded at the people who are angry at people who do things differently. Do you seriously need to get angry at me because I don't think we should spank our kids? Do you need to judge because I'm breastfeeding as long as it works for us? I'm off on a tangent now. Yesterday, the hubs and I were in the drive-thru at Taco Bell (totally healthy, I know). The vehicle in front of us had a "Got Milk?" sticker on their window. I was not offended by the slogan. I was offended by the picture next to it. It showed Betty Boop with HUGE boobies. She wasn't nursing. They were just hanging out for the world to see. It was porn star status. (I took a picture for those of you who can't envision it.)

The hubs said something to the effect of..."It's only offensive because of the way society views breasts." I countered with..."It's offensive because they want it to be." It's like the stupid Time magazine cover that started so much drama last year-ish. They weren't presenting a warm, comforting relationship between mother and child.

I've thought about it since last night and it really bothers me that they were sexualizing breasts in reference to breastfeeding. Does that make sense? If they had a little sketch of a woman nursing, with the catch phrase, cute...I may even chuckle. (Btw, I searched the internet. There are no breastfeeding stick figures. I'll have to work on that. Hehe!) I wonder though...how is the world's view of breastfeeding going to change if we are perpetuating the sexualization of breastfeeding?

I don't know why I'm so angry about this. Wait, I do. I didn't want to breastfeed my wild thing. I was modest and I struggled with the fact that breasts were for sexual gratification. I had a hard time separating the two functions in my mind and it bothered me. This window sticker just reinforced that to the world. I may ramble about this again soon because I'm really trying to work it out in my head. What do you think?

The Dirty Car Mommy Club

I look around at all of my friends with little ones around the same age as my wild thing. They all have dirty cars. I'm not talking about trash piled up inside. (That would be gross!) I'm talking about dirt becoming so thick that you can barely see through the windshield.

I'm embarrassed to drive around in my disgusting vehicle. Every time I get in I cringe. Do I have time to wash my car? No. Do I want to take my wild thing (who generally hates car seats) to the car wash while someone else washes it? No. Who has time for this? I'm busy taking care of my wild thing. He's clean, fed, and dressed most of the time.

It's interesting how becoming a mom changes many women. (No, not just the dirty car thing. That may have happened before the baby came along.) I watch my friends who are new moms and it's so interesting to see how they change. Some become more neurotic and panic easily. Strong, knowledgeable women begin to doubt everything they do. Others become softer. I know this last one sounds strange, but their actual personality changes. I've been told that being a mommy has this effect on me. Maybe it's the way that they light up around their baby or have opened themselves up emotionally. I was at a party a few weeks ago, and a girl I know, who has always bee nice, really opened up about her life and struggles with breastfeeding. I was amazed at how different she seemed since having her little one. Not everyone is like me, and does a complete 180 when the baby comes into the picture. I can't really pinpoint it for each and every woman, but I'm always fascinated by the women who change so dramatically when their babies come along.

For me, loving a baby is so easy. How could I not go soft with something so easy to love and so willing to love you back. Scientists talk about the fact that it is their cuteness, as infants, that draws us in and releases insane amounts of hormones. Loving is scary though; changing for my baby is scary. I'm afraid to love him and lose him. This happened with my cowboy and I swore I would never do it again. It hurt too much. Now that I have my wild thing, I can't help it. I'm head over heels and way more crazy than I was with my cowboy.

To all my friends who grow into themselves as they become mothers, really allow yourself to blossom. To all my friends who struggle and second-guess, just love them and trust your instincts. You fascinate me...all of you.