I've now become what I've always dreaded....I now live the reality of what I always swore I'd never be....I have now destined my children to the fate of a single particular childhood memory I so desperately wanted to spare them....
What is so deserving of all this drama? What could possibly be so bad? What am I tormenting myself over?
I am now a ....... minivan mom. O.M.G. Gasp.
To understand my position, you have to know that I am the oldest in my family. I had the priviledge of claiming the back seat of our Astro van as my very own little moving oasis. Ever since the days when I sat there, either suffocating in the heat or teeth chattering in the cold, I promised myself I'd never drive a minivan, never subject my children to such cruel & unusual punishment. The rare lukewarm summertime drafts that wafted back from the front windows never cooled me enough to shake that resolve. I was NEVER going to drive a minivan. Granted, it was the tiniest improvement on the stationwagons so finely equipped with backwards seats that made you nauseated just to imagine riding in....but, no, NEVER, not a minivan.
Now, I understand that nowadays, minivans have DVD players installed in the back to keep the munchkins oblivious to the world, and heat or A/C can be easily pumped into the farthest seats... but alas, I can't afford one of those. The Van I now have in my possession doesn't even have power locks or windows, let alone a TV screen. It does have a tape player that works like a charm, and it does have double sliding doors (the single best invention since the microwave I think). So, at least my poor children can exit thier new ride from either side. No more tripping over everyone trying to escape The Van.
I'm actually grateful that I no longer have to fight with a 2 door vehicle to put my children in carseats. I'm afraid that I'll actually *shudder* enjoy driving The Van. I think I've officially gone back on the earliest promise I ever made to myself. I think I might just get used to being a minivan mom.....
Welcome........
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Sunday, March 4, 2007
He's my skater boy..
Five foot, five inches
Brown eyes, each with a hint of trouble-maker glinting in the corner
A smile that would warm any heart
Tussled brown hair, falling in his eyes, obviously screaming for a trim
Worn, used to be black, faded jeans, resting slightly above his hips
Black over-sized sweatshirt, covering a ripped T-shirt with faded emblems on the back
Skateboard a permanent extension of his body it seems
One skater after the next ride...up the ramp...over the ledge, to land 4 feet below, hopefully with their feet firmly planted on their board. Not many, but some, land on the deck, then promptly lose their balance and end up flat on the ground. Most fall directly onto their tailbones, their backs, their boards, whatever, never making contact with the deck after leaving the ledge. They grumble, groan, mumble "bad words" sometimes, and skate back to the end of the line to try, try again. As I watch, he waits his turn. He gets into position, waiting, lip sucked in at one corner, body tense. Then, with a flick of the hair, he takes off running, drops his board next to him and jumps onto it in one smooth move, and up the ramp he goes. He nears the edge...his tongue sticks out slightly, a sign of intense concentration. He crouches, awaiting the moment of lift off...How he does it, I have no idea, but at the edge of the ledge, his feet and his skateboard dance. His hands fly up, like he's a bird, and they are his wings. His knees come damn near to his chest. The board flips, makes the correct rotations in the direction it's asked too, and before he even reaches the ground, his feet have reclaimed their position on the deck. The impact of the spinning wheels hitting cold cement under his body is almost to throw him off center, but he holds it. Sketchy or not, he has landed! A "Yeah, baby!" rings out, and a few boards are slammed on the ground in the customary celebration beat. Thump, thump, thump.... A huge grin spreads across his face as he smoothly glides, one with his board, back to his place in line. He looks over at me, pushing his hair out of his eyes for the millionth time that afternoon. "Did you see that? FINALLY! I landed it..I can't believe I landed it! Did you see it, Mom?"
Twelve years old and he holds my heart in the palm of his hand. I never knew what a "chest swelling with pride" meant until I had him. I also never knew that the Dragon Ball Z skateboard I bought him 4 Christmas' ago would birth such passion in him. He has ambitious dreams of being a pro-skater. Ambitious, I say, because there's 12.7 bazillion kids that have the same aspiration. The perfectionist in him gets so angry when he misses a trick. Some days are just bad days, some tricks are just over his head, technically...sometimes he's just expecting too much from himself & his surroundings. But whatever the case may be, he doesn't give up. I watched him take his turn at least 25 times yesterday before he could land that trick. Some of the other kids around said he was "dumb" for trying because it was too hard to do. And each of those times, my heart ached for him a bit more. His eyes were starting to get dark. His fists were clenched tightly closed. He'd sit down every few minutes, off to the side, and I thought for sure that was it, he was done. I saw his lips moving, silently yelling at himself. He was getting more and more irritated at himself, at his deck for not co-operating, at everything. But each time, he got back up, reclaimed his spot in line, and tackled the trick again...until success. Seeing his face after he finally landed was the fuel this mother's heart needed. My chest literally ached. I felt like the happiness & the pride had taken my breath away. Of course, can I show it? Nah....A smile and a "Way to go!" is all I can say. Anything more then that, he'd be embarrassed. On the way home later, when we are alone, I try to say I'm proud of him for never showing just how mad he was., that I was proud of him for never giving up. He just says "Pfft...Whatever....I wasn't mad."
Brown eyes, each with a hint of trouble-maker glinting in the corner
A smile that would warm any heart
Tussled brown hair, falling in his eyes, obviously screaming for a trim
Worn, used to be black, faded jeans, resting slightly above his hips
Black over-sized sweatshirt, covering a ripped T-shirt with faded emblems on the back
Skateboard a permanent extension of his body it seems
One skater after the next ride...up the ramp...over the ledge, to land 4 feet below, hopefully with their feet firmly planted on their board. Not many, but some, land on the deck, then promptly lose their balance and end up flat on the ground. Most fall directly onto their tailbones, their backs, their boards, whatever, never making contact with the deck after leaving the ledge. They grumble, groan, mumble "bad words" sometimes, and skate back to the end of the line to try, try again. As I watch, he waits his turn. He gets into position, waiting, lip sucked in at one corner, body tense. Then, with a flick of the hair, he takes off running, drops his board next to him and jumps onto it in one smooth move, and up the ramp he goes. He nears the edge...his tongue sticks out slightly, a sign of intense concentration. He crouches, awaiting the moment of lift off...How he does it, I have no idea, but at the edge of the ledge, his feet and his skateboard dance. His hands fly up, like he's a bird, and they are his wings. His knees come damn near to his chest. The board flips, makes the correct rotations in the direction it's asked too, and before he even reaches the ground, his feet have reclaimed their position on the deck. The impact of the spinning wheels hitting cold cement under his body is almost to throw him off center, but he holds it. Sketchy or not, he has landed! A "Yeah, baby!" rings out, and a few boards are slammed on the ground in the customary celebration beat. Thump, thump, thump.... A huge grin spreads across his face as he smoothly glides, one with his board, back to his place in line. He looks over at me, pushing his hair out of his eyes for the millionth time that afternoon. "Did you see that? FINALLY! I landed it..I can't believe I landed it! Did you see it, Mom?"
Twelve years old and he holds my heart in the palm of his hand. I never knew what a "chest swelling with pride" meant until I had him. I also never knew that the Dragon Ball Z skateboard I bought him 4 Christmas' ago would birth such passion in him. He has ambitious dreams of being a pro-skater. Ambitious, I say, because there's 12.7 bazillion kids that have the same aspiration. The perfectionist in him gets so angry when he misses a trick. Some days are just bad days, some tricks are just over his head, technically...sometimes he's just expecting too much from himself & his surroundings. But whatever the case may be, he doesn't give up. I watched him take his turn at least 25 times yesterday before he could land that trick. Some of the other kids around said he was "dumb" for trying because it was too hard to do. And each of those times, my heart ached for him a bit more. His eyes were starting to get dark. His fists were clenched tightly closed. He'd sit down every few minutes, off to the side, and I thought for sure that was it, he was done. I saw his lips moving, silently yelling at himself. He was getting more and more irritated at himself, at his deck for not co-operating, at everything. But each time, he got back up, reclaimed his spot in line, and tackled the trick again...until success. Seeing his face after he finally landed was the fuel this mother's heart needed. My chest literally ached. I felt like the happiness & the pride had taken my breath away. Of course, can I show it? Nah....A smile and a "Way to go!" is all I can say. Anything more then that, he'd be embarrassed. On the way home later, when we are alone, I try to say I'm proud of him for never showing just how mad he was., that I was proud of him for never giving up. He just says "Pfft...Whatever....I wasn't mad."
A clarification of sorts...
I suppose I should clarify something. I'm sure anyone who reads my previous post has made a few assumptions about me. I probably sound like a know-it all, a doctor hating woman who seriously mistrusts anyone in the government or medical field. Part of that is true. I am a know-it all...lol At least I like to think I know it all. A small voice in the back of my mind says I don't...but I don't usually listen. However, the rest of the assumptions you have made are mostly false. I do not mistrust ALL government...just most of it. I do not hate or mistrust all doctors, just the ones with "M" stamped on their forehead, as a acquaintance of mine recently said. What does the "M" stand for, you're probably wondering. "M" is for McDonald's.... to signify a doctor that has applied a fast food mentality to his practice. Get 'em in, give them what they want/need as soon as you possibly can, take their money (too much of it too), and get 'em out A.S.A.P. This is the kind of doctor that doesn't care about you, only cares about your money. These are the kinds of people that shouldn't be allowed to practice medicine. These are the ones that seem to be multiplying by the minute. Maybe the professors at med school are forgetting to tell these soon-to-be-doctors that they will be working with real people, not robots. That they need to have compassion. That they need to understand that their patient WILL have a brain, WILL be able to understand if you'd bother to explain, and most likely would LOVE to have a say in how they are treated.
While I'm sure I sound bitter & less then forgiving, I will say this..a different breed of medical professional DOES exist. The kind that greets you with a smile in their voice, not just painted on their face. The kind that will give you options when they can. The kind that will work their knuckles to the bone trying to save a prematurely born loved one. The kind that will take 35 minutes, or more, to draw and explain in detail what they will be doing for your child's surgery. The kind that will understand that you are a parent. You have rights. You have a child to protect, love & care for, and the REAL reason you need a doctor??? To ASSIST you in providing your child with the best in everything possible. To HELP you, not to make you feel like the scum of the earth for asking questions & being involved in your child's health. This kind of doctor DOES exist..thankfully. And hopefully they will overcome the urge to get "M" tattooed across their own foreheads.
While I'm sure I sound bitter & less then forgiving, I will say this..a different breed of medical professional DOES exist. The kind that greets you with a smile in their voice, not just painted on their face. The kind that will give you options when they can. The kind that will work their knuckles to the bone trying to save a prematurely born loved one. The kind that will take 35 minutes, or more, to draw and explain in detail what they will be doing for your child's surgery. The kind that will understand that you are a parent. You have rights. You have a child to protect, love & care for, and the REAL reason you need a doctor??? To ASSIST you in providing your child with the best in everything possible. To HELP you, not to make you feel like the scum of the earth for asking questions & being involved in your child's health. This kind of doctor DOES exist..thankfully. And hopefully they will overcome the urge to get "M" tattooed across their own foreheads.
Saturday, March 3, 2007
The future?
I'm thoroughly convinced that in years to come, parents will have no rights to make the decisions made in the "interest of" their children. There's going to be a day, mark my words, when your doctor tells you that your child "needs" something, and you will not have the power to refuse. Your grandchildren may end up on the wrong end of a conversation something like this....
"Ma'am...Thank you for bringing 2 yr old Billy in today. That ear infection he has would have been prevented if you had brought him in last week for his monthly check-up. He was due for his monthly injection. I've noted his chart of your missed appointment. I hope you understand that one more ignored check-up appointment will result in my sending a report to the Parent and Child Watch Agency... Anyways, during my examination of Billy, I noticed your son has a birthmark the size of a pin head on his thigh. Yes, I understand it's no bigger then the pimples he will get as a teenager, but, mind you, we will most likely have to give him medication, maybe even surgery, to control those as well. Research has shown a possible link between pimples and hormonal inbalances in teens. No, not every teen goes through that "just because"...where do you get your unfounded ridiculous information?? Anyway, as I was saying, we cannot allow this child to have to endure the ridicule, should anyone notice this blemish on his thigh...Because of this, I'm scheduling a surgery for next Thursday, 4 pm. We will remove this poor child's deformity. And while we have him sleeping, we will be implanting a few micro chips. One will be to track his emotional responses to anything anyone says to him. This will let us know if he begins to develop a low self esteem or a social disorder. Early detection paves the way to early intervention, and medication at the first sign of an issue can reduce the risk for corrective brain surgery in the future. The other micro chips will track his exposure to things like the flu, strep throat, etc. If any exposures are detected, they will transmit an alarm to my office, and we will call you at the first sign of trouble to bring him in to get the appropriate immunization immediately. Yes, I understand he's already had his full vaccination schedule, but unfortunately, viruses keep mutating, and the current 3,792 vaccinations available and in use do not always protect our precious children. You don't want him to get sick, do you? And here, give him this 4 times a day. It will make him like all veggies...even avocado and brussel sprouts. It may take a few weeks, but he will gradually stop refusing to eat any vegetable, and probably fruits too. He may start refusing to eat sweet things, like cake, candy, etc. Studies have shown a strong possibility that children who don't eat any sweets after the age of 2 are more likely to grow up to be straight A students, so every child must take this medicine, beginning at Billy's age. I'm sorry? You don't understand? You think some of these things are still experimental & not necessary? Well, ma'am, honestly, I don't think you need to understand completely. I'm just doing what's in the best interest of your child, and you would think you'd be agreeable to that, even if you don't "get it". If, after you think about everything I've said for a moment, you still don't think any of this is something you can agree with, I will make arrangements for Billy. We know wonderful people that would be more then happy to care for the boy according to the recommendations of this office and the government. I'm sure they'd allow you to visit from time to time. So, what do you say?"
"Ma'am...Thank you for bringing 2 yr old Billy in today. That ear infection he has would have been prevented if you had brought him in last week for his monthly check-up. He was due for his monthly injection. I've noted his chart of your missed appointment. I hope you understand that one more ignored check-up appointment will result in my sending a report to the Parent and Child Watch Agency... Anyways, during my examination of Billy, I noticed your son has a birthmark the size of a pin head on his thigh. Yes, I understand it's no bigger then the pimples he will get as a teenager, but, mind you, we will most likely have to give him medication, maybe even surgery, to control those as well. Research has shown a possible link between pimples and hormonal inbalances in teens. No, not every teen goes through that "just because"...where do you get your unfounded ridiculous information?? Anyway, as I was saying, we cannot allow this child to have to endure the ridicule, should anyone notice this blemish on his thigh...Because of this, I'm scheduling a surgery for next Thursday, 4 pm. We will remove this poor child's deformity. And while we have him sleeping, we will be implanting a few micro chips. One will be to track his emotional responses to anything anyone says to him. This will let us know if he begins to develop a low self esteem or a social disorder. Early detection paves the way to early intervention, and medication at the first sign of an issue can reduce the risk for corrective brain surgery in the future. The other micro chips will track his exposure to things like the flu, strep throat, etc. If any exposures are detected, they will transmit an alarm to my office, and we will call you at the first sign of trouble to bring him in to get the appropriate immunization immediately. Yes, I understand he's already had his full vaccination schedule, but unfortunately, viruses keep mutating, and the current 3,792 vaccinations available and in use do not always protect our precious children. You don't want him to get sick, do you? And here, give him this 4 times a day. It will make him like all veggies...even avocado and brussel sprouts. It may take a few weeks, but he will gradually stop refusing to eat any vegetable, and probably fruits too. He may start refusing to eat sweet things, like cake, candy, etc. Studies have shown a strong possibility that children who don't eat any sweets after the age of 2 are more likely to grow up to be straight A students, so every child must take this medicine, beginning at Billy's age. I'm sorry? You don't understand? You think some of these things are still experimental & not necessary? Well, ma'am, honestly, I don't think you need to understand completely. I'm just doing what's in the best interest of your child, and you would think you'd be agreeable to that, even if you don't "get it". If, after you think about everything I've said for a moment, you still don't think any of this is something you can agree with, I will make arrangements for Billy. We know wonderful people that would be more then happy to care for the boy according to the recommendations of this office and the government. I'm sure they'd allow you to visit from time to time. So, what do you say?"
Friday, December 15, 2006
Pictures, pictures
Here are some pictures I took over the summer. As you can see, I "pretended" to be a photographer, and ended up with some pretty cool, imperfect shots.
Kaitlyn~~
A Poppy ~~
Sunset ~~
Lily ~~
Fourth of July ~~
An Old Barn ~~
Some Lake Shots ~~
Kaitlyn~~
A Poppy ~~
Sunset ~~
Lily ~~
Fourth of July ~~
An Old Barn ~~
Some Lake Shots ~~
Wednesday, December 6, 2006
Blog-Land here I come...
So, I have a few minutes of sleeping-babies-peace-n-quiet, and where do I find myself? Here, in the land of noone-will-probably-ever-read-this-but-it's-ok... I might find myself here more often. I think this will become my get-away place, my peaceful place. It's almost like walking into a highschool gym with the lights off. You open the door..black air greets you with open arms. You step in and the door clicks solidly shut behind you. A wee bit of light wafts in from the skylight above, just enough to illuminate the top of the basketball hoops. You walk out to center court, your footsteps echoing loudly throughout the empty space, and it's such a cool feeling, alone, yet it's not a "bad" alone, ya know? It's a "the world is mine to do with it what I please and noone's here to stop me", powerful yet solemn, puts twinges of excitement into your blood, alone.....And, yeah, I said ALONE...stop reminiscing about makin' out under the bleachers... :-)
This whole blog thing is new territory to me. I've done the "my very own website" thing, and promptly got busy with children (come to find out, they require supervision..) and the dirty four lettered word that describes 40+ hours of my week... needless to say, the website got forgotten, and vanished into "Website Heaven" somewhere. So, now I'm here. I've decided that I'm going to pretend noone's ever going to see what I write in this new place. The thought of no on-lookers will create a platform from which I can honestly & unabashedly dive into my thoughts, feelings, whatever. Besides, I feel important now. "Look at me, I've got a blog." (Can you hear the "ooohhs and aahhhhs"?) All the cool kids are doing it, mom. Please can I, oh please, oh please????
Seriously, I told my husband last night, "I started a blog today."
He's like "What's a blog?"
And I promptly replied "It's a thing..ya know..where people can..." (uncomfortable hesitation inserted here) "Write stuff..keep up with family they never see, I guess...vent..I dunno, It's a place."
I realized that I didn't have the right words to describe what I "thought" a blog was. And I guess, there really aren't any "right words", are there? I mean, from what I can tell, a blog is anything and everything you feel like writing about, your vacation to Italy, your dog's eating habits, the aliens you KNOW YOU SAW in your backyard last night, or your sudden intense hate for lettuce..any of these subjects would be totally deserving of their own space in Blog-Land. So that's what I'm going to do...I don't have vacations to Italy to write about, but I do have trips to Diaper Mountain, Laundry Ridge & the grocery store with 4 kids (not a pretty sight btw)...I'm going to write about those and all the other weird, routine, strange or mundane things that pop into my head during the course of every day life. This shoud be interesting, no?
This whole blog thing is new territory to me. I've done the "my very own website" thing, and promptly got busy with children (come to find out, they require supervision..) and the dirty four lettered word that describes 40+ hours of my week... needless to say, the website got forgotten, and vanished into "Website Heaven" somewhere. So, now I'm here. I've decided that I'm going to pretend noone's ever going to see what I write in this new place. The thought of no on-lookers will create a platform from which I can honestly & unabashedly dive into my thoughts, feelings, whatever. Besides, I feel important now. "Look at me, I've got a blog." (Can you hear the "ooohhs and aahhhhs"?) All the cool kids are doing it, mom. Please can I, oh please, oh please????
Seriously, I told my husband last night, "I started a blog today."
He's like "What's a blog?"
And I promptly replied "It's a thing..ya know..where people can..." (uncomfortable hesitation inserted here) "Write stuff..keep up with family they never see, I guess...vent..I dunno, It's a place."
I realized that I didn't have the right words to describe what I "thought" a blog was. And I guess, there really aren't any "right words", are there? I mean, from what I can tell, a blog is anything and everything you feel like writing about, your vacation to Italy, your dog's eating habits, the aliens you KNOW YOU SAW in your backyard last night, or your sudden intense hate for lettuce..any of these subjects would be totally deserving of their own space in Blog-Land. So that's what I'm going to do...I don't have vacations to Italy to write about, but I do have trips to Diaper Mountain, Laundry Ridge & the grocery store with 4 kids (not a pretty sight btw)...I'm going to write about those and all the other weird, routine, strange or mundane things that pop into my head during the course of every day life. This shoud be interesting, no?
Tuesday, December 5, 2006
A Letter To My Newborn Son
(written 11-20-06)
To my dearest Mason,
Since we are still getting to know each other, there's just a few things that, as your mother, I'd like to say to you.
1) I'm doomed to one-handed chicken pecking on this stupid keyboard for at least another few months, until you realize that mommy's arms aren't your permenant home...... so I hope you don't mind any typos that result
2) Ok, you win...I now know that sleep is a dirty four-lettered word... You have convinced me it's unneeded, an induldgence really... oh, but don't let me find out your daddy is sleeping..my envy of his "unneeded" peaceful, most likely very deep, slumber could result in you being a fatherless child....
3) My boobs are not just for sucking nutrition out of...apparently they are for mere comfort as well... if you are crying, it seems all I need to do is whip one out...you are more then welcome to feign interest for a mere 30 seconds, and then promptly fall asleep without even latching on....but please understand that not everyone else in the house wants me to walk around topless...except maybe your daddy ...so, please allow me to be fully clothed for at least an hour in the am & an hour at night, ok?
4) The swing is your friend, I promise... you really should give it a chance..Although I suppose the "helping" that Elijah does gives it more of a roller coaster effect, huh?
5) It really is ok if I have a shirt, clear of baby puke, on for more then 20 minutes..and a new sleeper on you really isn't an invitation to out-do your personal puking volume record ....the same could be said for diapers & poop....
6) Dinner is this thing that mommy needs to make..if you don't stop crying long enough for me to make it, I can't eat it. If I don't eat it, the before mentioned boobs will be of no value to you...not to mention daddy gets grouchy...So help me out a bit, and put dinner on your "no crying allowed" schedule... kapeesh??? Ditto for breakfast & lunch..
7) Please ignore all things your older brother Elijah does (dancing on the coffee table, beating the TV with every toy he can find, constantly trying to ingest money, etc...) Clearly he's simply trying to show off in the hopes of gaining your allegiance early on so you can unite against me in the near furture...I'm already prepared for double the frogs, double the dirt......... and double the hugs
8) Since we're discussing Elijah, please forgive him... his version of "gentle" & "nice" are probably not what you have in mind..(kinda more like a bull in a china shop, I know...) Do rest assured I'm doing everything in my power to protect you from his love
9) Crying everytime your daddy holds you does no good for anyone... It stresses him out, you get all huffy & puffy, and....well, don't you think it's in your best interest to let me at least shower before you start wailing??
10) Not that it's in your control, but don't you agree that someone should address the problem that is late night/early morning tv??? I mean how many infomercials do we need to suffer through for hair growth cream, ladders that can do anything & everything,(including change the lightbulb without human intervention ), and colon cleansing programs with a money-back guarentee...ummm, ...or we could watch some movie that has been bad since the day it was released directly to videotape in the early 80's, or we could watch....well, you get my point. (Or we could just SLEEP!!!! since it's like 2:46 am.... )
11) I know all of this sounds a bit frustrated, maybe bitter or even a tad angry....but really, I'm enjoying every minute of your emerging personality, even if it's sapping me of all energy & sanity at the moment. I wouldn't trade any of these moments in the last week & a half for anything...not even for a solid nights sleep ( I might think about it really hard, but I'd pick you, I swear...) Sure I could deal without the triple diaper changes @ 4 am, and I'll be happy when the nipples stop leakin'... but I love you more then anything. So take your time...as much as i may be longing for you to stop being a newborn, I'm in no hurry for you to grow up...
Love,
Your Sleep-deprived, Feel-like-a-cow, Baby-puked-on-shirt-wearin', Emotional-'n-stupid-sappy Mommy
To my dearest Mason,
Since we are still getting to know each other, there's just a few things that, as your mother, I'd like to say to you.
1) I'm doomed to one-handed chicken pecking on this stupid keyboard for at least another few months, until you realize that mommy's arms aren't your permenant home...... so I hope you don't mind any typos that result
2) Ok, you win...I now know that sleep is a dirty four-lettered word... You have convinced me it's unneeded, an induldgence really... oh, but don't let me find out your daddy is sleeping..my envy of his "unneeded" peaceful, most likely very deep, slumber could result in you being a fatherless child....
3) My boobs are not just for sucking nutrition out of...apparently they are for mere comfort as well... if you are crying, it seems all I need to do is whip one out...you are more then welcome to feign interest for a mere 30 seconds, and then promptly fall asleep without even latching on....but please understand that not everyone else in the house wants me to walk around topless...except maybe your daddy ...so, please allow me to be fully clothed for at least an hour in the am & an hour at night, ok?
4) The swing is your friend, I promise... you really should give it a chance..Although I suppose the "helping" that Elijah does gives it more of a roller coaster effect, huh?
5) It really is ok if I have a shirt, clear of baby puke, on for more then 20 minutes..and a new sleeper on you really isn't an invitation to out-do your personal puking volume record ....the same could be said for diapers & poop....
6) Dinner is this thing that mommy needs to make..if you don't stop crying long enough for me to make it, I can't eat it. If I don't eat it, the before mentioned boobs will be of no value to you...not to mention daddy gets grouchy...So help me out a bit, and put dinner on your "no crying allowed" schedule... kapeesh??? Ditto for breakfast & lunch..
7) Please ignore all things your older brother Elijah does (dancing on the coffee table, beating the TV with every toy he can find, constantly trying to ingest money, etc...) Clearly he's simply trying to show off in the hopes of gaining your allegiance early on so you can unite against me in the near furture...I'm already prepared for double the frogs, double the dirt......... and double the hugs
8) Since we're discussing Elijah, please forgive him... his version of "gentle" & "nice" are probably not what you have in mind..(kinda more like a bull in a china shop, I know...) Do rest assured I'm doing everything in my power to protect you from his love
9) Crying everytime your daddy holds you does no good for anyone... It stresses him out, you get all huffy & puffy, and....well, don't you think it's in your best interest to let me at least shower before you start wailing??
10) Not that it's in your control, but don't you agree that someone should address the problem that is late night/early morning tv??? I mean how many infomercials do we need to suffer through for hair growth cream, ladders that can do anything & everything,(including change the lightbulb without human intervention ), and colon cleansing programs with a money-back guarentee...ummm, ...or we could watch some movie that has been bad since the day it was released directly to videotape in the early 80's, or we could watch....well, you get my point. (Or we could just SLEEP!!!! since it's like 2:46 am.... )
11) I know all of this sounds a bit frustrated, maybe bitter or even a tad angry....but really, I'm enjoying every minute of your emerging personality, even if it's sapping me of all energy & sanity at the moment. I wouldn't trade any of these moments in the last week & a half for anything...not even for a solid nights sleep ( I might think about it really hard, but I'd pick you, I swear...) Sure I could deal without the triple diaper changes @ 4 am, and I'll be happy when the nipples stop leakin'... but I love you more then anything. So take your time...as much as i may be longing for you to stop being a newborn, I'm in no hurry for you to grow up...
Love,
Your Sleep-deprived, Feel-like-a-cow, Baby-puked-on-shirt-wearin', Emotional-'n-stupid-sappy Mommy
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