Fuck you 2012.
I'm over it.
2013 is going kickass.
Okay I just saw Google's commercial for the new year... badass.
I hope next year consists of me toasting with another human being standing beside me and not alone. I'm sick of being alone. Joel's job fucking sucks.
It took me like foreverrrrrr to write that last two sentecnes because I keep fucking up the wods.
I don't even car, it's NYE BITCHES!
Thursday, December 27, 2012
"The soul is healed by being with children."
Here is your three month photos, but a few weeks late posting. You've found your hands, have started to giggle and you love to snuggle. You are a happy baby as long as all your needs are met. You don't even cry right away, you usually just grunt or talk a bit to let us know you need your diaper changed or that you're hungry. I know all your cries and noises.
A few weeks ago when I was out to dinner with your Daddy, an older woman asked if I was your Mother. After I told her that I was, she told me you were the most beautiful baby she's ever seen. You captivate people and bring happiness wherever you go.
You're sitting up with assistance and are starting to love baths. You scratch your head a lot so you're wearing mittens again, which you mostly chew on when given the chance. You're still in our room and I'm not sure I'm ready for you to move out just yet. You don't normally sleep through the night but you have the past two nights (knock on wood).
I love putting you to sleep. All I have to do is swaddle you and put a binky in your mouth and snuggle you close to my chest. Sometimes I take a deep breath with my cheek next to yours and I can tell it relaxes you as you usually let out a sigh and a deep breath too.
I made a growth chart for the Champ homemade party as
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Thursday, December 20, 2012
"Being a mother is not about what you gave up to have a child, but what you've gained from having one."
- Sunny GuptaDear Jack,
Last night, while I was lying in bed snuggled beside you... with only your small Christmas tree lighting the room, I asked you not to forget this moment.
I wanted us both to remember.
It wasn't anything monumental, but it was us... and it's all the small moments combined that make warm memories.
And this is me remembering.
I was in my bedroom asleep next to your Dad and Jude when I awoke from a deep sleep and said your name before you even said a word.
You were at the foot of our bed and whispered that you needed to pee.
It's something you always do. I think you're too tired to go alone, so I led you to the bathroom and you took care of business.
Afterwards, we went to your room and you asked me to sing to you. I sang the usual- "twinkle twinkle little star"and "you are my sunshine" while I scratched your back.
Afterwards you asked me a lot of questions, things I don't recall because I kept falling asleep next to you while still answering. I probably made no sense.
Then I told you I had to go back to my bed because I was going to fall asleep for good soon.
You told me I could stay the whole night if I wanted. Then you told me how much you wanted me to stay.
Before answering you, I thought about the parents of the victims who would do anything for a night of snuggles. Then I tried to shake the thought, looking at you and thinking of that tragedy does not mix well for me.
Then that Mommy voice deep inside told me to accept your offer because you're only little once. So I said, "How about I go get my blankey and stay with you?"
You were so happy.
So I got my blanket and came back to snuggle with you. I was a bit more awake now, and I was just laying there when you told me, "I think my pillow is growing ears."
I looked up and sure enough, a corner of your pillow was pushed up against the wall and looked like a small triangular ear was emerging.
I laughed and kissed your head. And told you I thought you were right.
We snuggled forehead to forehead and told each other how much we loved each other.
Then you said you could hear Jude crying. I told you to "quick go to sleep" so hopefully your Dad would take care of him, but he came in and shook my leg.
I promised I'd be back and you reluctantly let me go.
I helped care for Jude, and you wondered back into our room.
Dad took you back to your room and promised I would be in after I fed Jude.
So I came back, laid beside you, and the first thing you told me was, "Dad's breath was stinky. I think he forgot to brush his teeth."
You are always making me laugh.
I hope you remember small moments like last night and I hope I always remember too.
I love you to the moon and back,
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
I read this article last night.
I chose things that must get done today and made a list.
I chose things that couldn't wait.
Things that defined who I am and who I want to be.
On my list today:
Couch to 5k
After this blog post, I'll be crossing couch to 5k off my list, and then the rest of the night will be spent editing photos and meeting client deadlines.
The article suggests "3" musts... but work and diapers couldn't be left off the list, so five it was.
I called Sharon first this morning, and when I put the phone back on the receiver I wiped away the tears and told myself I did the right thing calling, even if we both ended up crying.
Today marks the 3rd month that her brother has been gone. A date I'll never forget because Jude was born the following day.
Next, I did the diaper laundry.
And later, when Joel got home (with a migraine) and all the boys were napping, I slipped out for a trip to the post office.
I went to mail in my packet for Be The Match.
I'm really bad about going to the post office, and so today I made it a priority that couldn't be ignored.
I didn't want to leave it in our mailbox because of the weather and the possibility of it damaging my samples, so I told myself I would take it to the post office soon.
I drove there not thinking about anything really, but when I parked and grabbed the envelop... I stopped before opening the car door.
It was raining.
I slipped it inside my jacket next to my heart and got out of the car.
As I was walking... I swear every step held so much meaning.
Maybe it's because I'm a woman, or maybe it's because I've seen so much pain caused by cancer... but I felt this deepness inside telling me to protect that envelop because it could save a life.
I slipped it into the "out of town" slot, held the door for an older man on my way out, and got into my car.
And as I backed out, and drove down the alley so I could make a right turn back to our home... I looked left and then right.
Left is where the Green Bean use to be.
A quiet, beautiful coffee shop that I use to go to. The owner and my friend, Connie, use to sit occasionally and chat with me.
Rick occasionally rang me out.
And one beautiful day last November, I photographed their wedding.
And a few short months later they found out Rick was sick; and after a heroic battle with metastatic melanoma, he died.
I turned right and began to cry.
I thought of my session this past weekend with Gavin. He was the recipient of an organ donation a few years back... I thought about his smiles, and laughs and the time I spent with him and his family.
(that's Gavin being held by his brother)
Flashes going through my mind of Gavin, Rick, Connie, Sharon, my brother's family, Chris & Curt...
So much joy and sorrow overwhelmed me.
That envelop means so much more than I thought when I signed up online.
I hope someday I can save a life.