Confessions Of A Stay At Home Mommy

Allow me to get some things off my chest...
First things first: 
I miss my best friend Bekah dearly. 
 Like so much that it hurts.
Bekah and I met on BabyCenter years ago, when we were still pregnant with our first little ones. We instantly clicked and soon I was off to spend two weeks with her family. We quickly realized just how much we were meant for each other. Because when you find someone you want to rip your hair at around one minute and the next hug and laugh over it, you know you have found a friend for life. We laughed, cried, fought, and shared so many amazing memories in those 2 weeks. Her daughter holds such a special place in my heart, and now that she has another baby I am so upset I have yet to meet her. Bekah and her daughter Ocean came to visit my family about 2 years (oh gosh has it really been that long?) ago, and she has yet to meet my daughter as well. Although I live here and she lives there we try out hardest to keep in touch and it is not nearly as much as I would like. I cannot wait to be with her family again. I love her daughters, he husband, and most of all my neurotic clean freak Bekah! 

Secondly: I miss breastfeeding immensely!

It has been months now but I am still yearning for the bond Phoenix and I shared when she nursed. I miss the closeness. I miss the way she would pet my hair while she snuggled up for some milk. I was so upset that I couldn't continue after a year. I know my sanity was most important but, honestly, if I could bring my milk back I would totally start nursing again. Phoenix is totally over it though, that's for sure. 

I have no style.
 In my closet it is black, black, black. 
I keep looking at all my mommy friends Facebook pages and admiring the way their hair is always neat, they have awesome clothes on, and have at least two different pairs of shoes.
I have two pairs of skinny jeans that I bought right after Phoenix was born, I now call them my "baggy" jeans. The other two pairs of jeans I owned I promptly cut into shorts the first day of 80 degree weather. I own few stylish shirts and spend most of my time in sweatshirts. My hair is usually faded some sort of odd color in between red and blonde. My stupid idea of bangs has turned into a nightmare, leaving me almost completely optionless in the hair-do department.  I float day to day in scrunched freshly showered hair or thrown up faster then the baby can get to the staircase. What happened to all my cute outfits? My assortment of shoes and handbags? All of my adorable accessories? I used to look cute and put together! Now I feel like a frump. 
Sigh...

I'm turning against my diapers.
I have been so lazy with my cloth diapers, and my husband is ready to kill me. I have been disgusting and lazily throwing my poopy diapers directly into the diaper pail. Without spraying them out. Then leaving them to pile up until my hubby begrudgingly picks through the mass of soiled crap and sticky wipes to put them into the washer. He gets so angry every time, and I don't blame him. I think the Pampers demons have gotten into my brain. Every time there is a massive load of poop in one of my children's diapers I turn into the traitor of cloth and think terrible thoughts like, "I should just use sposies for a little bit. Give myself a break...." I must not give in to the ease of throwing crap into the garbage. 

Winter is coming: I am beginning hibernation.
Don't bother me. 
It is turning into that time of the year where I completely shut down from humanity. Friends? Hangouts? No way- if you want to find me then you gotta come to me! Because I refuse to step foot outside into the snowy world. Pretty from the window, terrible from outside. 

Now it's your turn- start confessing friends! 
Don't let me be the only secret spilling mommy here!


1 comment:

Samantha said...

I am always jealous of those who can form such close and long lasting friendships, especially online!

and boy do I ever feel you on the lack of style!

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...

Theme by: Pish and Posh Designs