About Me

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WE HAVE MOVED TO A NEW SITE!!! http://www.mommyhood-shivonne-costa.squarespace.com/ As of June 18, 2015, this is our new location. Please come join us!! I started blogging the week I got married. I thought it would be nice to blog the full first year, you know, to cherish those memories and share them with my family and friends. Little did I know, it was going to be my greatest coping skill for the craziness that comes with marriage! I found writing to be a fantastic way to reframe an ugly marital spat into a humorous event, allowing me to smile at the situation by the end of the post. And now, I am honored to share my struggles and joys of fostering, adopting, birthing, and raising 4 beautiful children. It's my hope that others gain laughter and new ways to see their own frustrating life situation through my writing. Because I love to write! PS, look for me on Facebook - "Mommyhood-Shivonne Costa"

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Sometimes There Really ARE Worms In The Bathroom

     Taylor has a tendency to exaggerate just the tiniest bit when it comes to insects. She is convinced that ladybugs are bees, flies are wasps, and that stink bugs can outrun her. Granted, she's a pretty slow runner and all, but it's highly unlikely (not 100%) that a stink bug could catch up to her.... not to mention that they don't bite, but this has yet to eliminate her fears of the pre-historic looking creepsters. In fact, just this week, I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night, only to find that there was no toilet paper left in the upstairs.... that was when I noticed that ALL of it had been crumpled up and thrown into the bathroom trashcan. I pulled out wads at a time and examined that they were all perfectly clean. Why? WHYYY??? The next morning, after a rather lengthy round of "He/She Did It!", Taylor finally confessed that she was the one that had thrown away all of the toilet paper. When asked the reason for this odd and frustrating behavior (afterall, I noticed the lack of paper AFTER I had already sat and comfortably relieved myself), she informed me that during shower time the night before there had been a stink bug on the shower curtain. And in each moment of bravery, she grabbed a massive amount of tissue and walked cautiously towards the bug, only to chicken out and throw the paper in the garbage seconds later. She had these brave moments until every last square of toilet paper was gone, followed by paralyzing fear an equal number of times. I know this because I found the same stink bug on the shower curtain the next morning, very much alive and well. (PS, I used one square of tissue and killed the sucker very successfully.)
     So you can imagine my exasperation when Taylor refused to go into the half-bath this morning to brush her teeth before school, stating that "there are worms in the bathroom". (Did I say "stating"? I meant "shrieking".) Frustratedly, I told her to suck it up because it was probably just a lady bug and to brush her teeth. Cameron chimed in that there were indeed worms in the bathroom. Ugh, why do these children insist on making this 9-month pregnant woman come and inspect every little thing??? After I spent a good 5 minutes hoisting myself up off the couch, I slowly waddled to the bathroom. And what did my eyes see? Maggots..... EVERYWHERE. Now, Taylor exaggerates and has irrational fears of most insects. But there are two weaknesses that this mama shares with her and they are spiders (things with too many legs) and maggots (things with no legs).... I seriously cannot even deal with them without throwing up. (Not to mention my extra sensitive gag reflex that felt the need to kick in every few minutes while I panicked, cried, and stood in the kitchen staring at the bathroom door with terror in my eyes.
     Assuring the kids that their teeth wouldn't fall out if they missed brushing just this one time, I sent them out the door and watched them escape this House of Horrors by way of school bus. And then, I was left, alone, with a house full of flesh-colored fly larvae. It was then that I began inspecting the floors closely, only to realize that they were not just in the bathroom, but that they had spread to the family room, coat closet, and underneath the computer desk. I nauseously began to do the only sensible thing I could do..... I stood on a chair and sobbed. Thankfully my newly acquired weight didn't collapse the chair and I was able to eventually come to my senses and declare war on the wriggly creatures that were threatening to multiply and invade the rest of my home. Well, I wasn't going to go down without a fight.... afterall, I'm nesting! So, in a moment of bravery, I put my shoes on and grabbed an entire roll of paper towel (ahhhh, THIS is where Taylor got it from....). I tiptoed towards the first maggot and picked it up with a handful of thick tissue, only to realize that they don't kill very easily. You actually have to dig your fingernail into them until you feel an explosive "pop", assuring that they've actually been eliminated before going to their final resting place in my trash can (otherwise, the mating process will begin and the can will soon overflow with new little maggoty children crawling all over the place!).
     As I swallowed down mouthfuls of vomit, popping worms as I went, I realized that I had lost count after well over 100 killings.... and I hadn't even made it out of the bathroom yet. Where had they come from?? They weren't there the night prior, so how? HOW??? But no matter how much I tried to reason, I couldn't come up with an explanation. I allowed a Stalin-like mentality to overtake me as I plowed through worm after worm without ceasing, gaining momentum and courage as I went. And then, after doing research on what will kill maggots AND prevent their return, I thoroughly scoured the floors and re-sprayed the vinegar and poison solutions religiously every half hour, picking up carcasses and stray maggots in the potion's wake. I did this all day. Even now, each time I go into the infested rooms, I find escapees furiously looking for a safe haven to reproduce. But I have no mercy and I pop them with a spirit of vengeance. I curse them to Maggot Hell by promptly flushing them down the toilet after they've been severed.
     And when the kids arrived home, I had them put on their battle gear (shoes), grab their swords (ONE square of toilet tissue), and showed them how to fight the enemy. By the end, even little Taylor was willing to squish them and send their bodies floating down the drain. "See mom?" she said after a particularly productive casualty clean-up. "There really WERE worms in the bathroom!" And she was most certainly correct.

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Big Belly Update

     The inevitable FMLA / maternity leave has finally begun. No, there is no baby yet, but this Mama's health had been deteriorating (along with her sanity) and she needed a break to help prepare this abundantly rotund body for the vigorous workout that is called labor. And frankly, I'm not sure who is more nervous about this whole process, me or my husband. He routinely informs me that he can't rest because he's anxious with not knowing the when, where, and how all this is gonna go down, like we're waiting for a nuclear attack or something. In fact, when I was having contractions the other day (which occur daily at this point), he demanded that I tell him if the baby was coming right then or not..... as if! And then today, he informed me that I'm no longer allowed to call him during the day because it freaks him out that I'm going into labor. In the meantime, he wakes me up almost nightly to ask how I'm doing.... I thought all men had an innate sense of self-preservation that warned them away from ever waking a pregnant woman, especially when she's in her 9th month!! And then, to top things off, he just stares at me while I'm in the shower.... and not in the way he used to stare at me in the shower, but in an entirely new way, as if he's watching in astonishment as the world's largest woman attempts to shave her legs without falling and taking the curtain down with her or as if she's a time-bomb ready to explode.
     Even little Isaac is amazed at my big belly. He routinely tries to climb the mountain that has become his Mama, and he lifts my shirt to try to poke my "button" back in, rubbing my stomach while saying "baby" like it's a magic lamp. He is also quite taken with my equally enlarged "upstairs" as he tries to push those "buttons" back in, too.... I think he's pretty convinced that everything in my torso is a baby, the entire womb-concept proving to be a bit to much his 18-month mentality. Cameron and Taylor are just excited that I'm no longer working. There were actually cheers (complete with fist pumps) when I informed them of my last day of work. Even if I have to spend half the time lying down while they're home, you can see the happiness radiating off of them. Taylor was thrilled that I got to watch her in gymnastics once again and Cameron's homework is improving greatly. Not to mention my own health is improving, just in this first week off! My feet are far less swollen and my back pain is much more manageable. Even my tonsillitis is nearly cleared up (thank God, no surgery was needed!) but the bronchitis is still sucking up my life. In fact, this morning, in the middle of an extra long coughing spell, my bladder just couldn't take the pressure and I ended up wishing I had saved some adult diapers for myself instead of donating them all to my work when I left last week. But lesson learned.... I now know the importance (nay, the necessity) of heading straight to the restroom when I feel a cough coming on!
     And now, it's just a matter of time.... the wait is agonizing, but the end result will be fantastic! Just knowing that my cervix is softening rapidly (although not dilated yet) helps me come to grips with the few stray stretch marks that have made their way from my hips to the lower left side of my belly, and the fact that I'm nearly two hundred pounds (holy crap), and that my groin feels like I have pulled every muscle in the forbidden zone that is humanly possible. Still, it's almost over. Will I miss it? Hmmmm, some say that I will. I say those people probably smoke crack, but whether I do miss it or I don't, I will have my little man in my arms and I will feel so grateful to have had this experience. I know it's one I'll never want to repeat again (not for love nor money!) but I'll have experienced the greatest miracle of a woman's life, an experience I didn't think I was capable of having. So, until the big day, my goals are to 1) find a machine that will carry me up and down the stairs, 2) get a catheter installed, 3) stay under that 199 pound mark, even if it means taking up jogging in my 9th month, and 4) rest (when not jogging) so that I can have a safe delivery for my little guy. Until later!!