keepin' it real

I want to write about this picture, even though all I want to do is sleep, and I feel like crying-- I need to write about it. Today was one of those days. One of those "miss your child's nap window" days. One of those "lose your temper and feel like a terrible mother days." It's not easy, being a full time attachment parent. It's not. And now, with this little one coming (taking his precious time, but coming), I'm starting to feel all out of sorts and intimidated by the idea that soon and very soon, I will be juggling a newborn and a very high need toddler. That's scary, exciting, but scary.

Today, Henry fought his nap for 2 full hours. We tried everything: a drive, books, television, breathing, rocking, massage... nothing was working. All the while, here I am, 39 weeks pregnant, feeling nauseous, emotional and exhausted, trying to keep my cool. It was a terrible scenario, to be honest. But that's why I need to write about it, because you know what? He's asleep now. I put a little terror in the car and within 2 min, he became the little angel you see above. Then, I came home, and I put him in his bed, and he sighed the most perfect sigh and everything was right with the world again.

You know what? There will be more days like today, but then, I'm going to blink, and my little 2 year old is going to be in school. He wont be home with me all the time, and eventually, he'll be off on his own entirely. And you know what? I'd probably trade one of those future lonely (yet peaceful) afternoons for this crazy one.

So, I'm posting to remind myself that Henry will eventually go to sleep. I need to stop, breathe and cherish even these tough moments, because they are fleeting, Now, I need to take a nap. I can go all nesting crazy on those dishes later.

the flu.

Hendrix spent most of Tuesday tossing his breakfast, lunch, dinner etc... He didn't pass urine all day. So, we spent Tuesday night in the ER waiting on doctors while Hendo miraculously kept fluid down (of course, right after we were checked in). Wednesday, Eric stayed home and helped me take care of Hen, who was honestly doing a lot better.

Then, Thursday morning, Hendo puked all over on our way back from the donut shop (he requested sprinkles, okay!? Who am I to say no?). So, we got ourselves down to the doctor's office. While waiting, I started to feel insanely nauseous. I planned to go grocery shopping for all things BRAT diet, but instead, I found myself puking into a blue bag (while holding Hendo) in the parking lot. Thank GOD my MIL was with me, because my whole world was stars, and I had no strength in me at all.

Eric came home from work, after picking up Zofran for Hendo and me, an insane amount of Gatorade and disinfectant wipes. And then, the contractions started... I mean, tough ones. The doctor insisted that I go in (even though they were not consistent). At the hospital, they were registering roughly 4 min apart at varying consistencies. It was so scary sitting in that room worrying that I might go into labor before feeling ready (I really have to get some stuff together if I feel well enough this weekend). They gave me the option of going home to rehydrate or staying there and getting an IV. Uh, no brainer, HOME PLEASE.

Though this has in no way been fun, I'm counting the positives. I have gotten some INSANE amounts of cuddle time in with Hendo. We've pretty much been watching movies and reading books in bed non-stop. This morning, he woke up and started to rub my cheeks and say, "Mama feel better?" Also, one amazing thing about our little trip to labor and delivery is that we got to hear a birth! The nurse left the door open when she discharged us and we very clearly heard a little one's entry into the world complete with mom's scream, the dad's loud, "Oh, boy!!!," and the first cry. It was such a nice reminder of the amazing experience we have ahead of us. Now, to just get to feeling better...

late night conversations with myself.

Baby Girl,

It's okay to stand up for yourself, but you can't do it if you have to step on someone else to get there. Let that small stuff go. You don't always have to be right. So, let someone else think they are if it helps mend conflict. Don't be a mean girl. Be a forgiving girl, they sleep better at night.

Stop chasing things that you can find within your own beating heart or in the laugh of your son's play. Breathe and Listen. PRAY. Please stop forgetting to pray.

Read something wonderful during Hen's nap-time instead of always cleaning. You can deal with dirty dishes, but you can't go on smiling with a hungry soul. Make your well-being more of a priority. You are responsible for your own happiness. GO OUT AND GET YOU SOME.

Enough Diet Coke, girl. Seriously. WE BOTH KNOW HOW LONG AGO YOU BOUGHT THAT 12 PACK. It's shameful. Brew yourself some sun tea. It's summer for goodness sakes. You could even carry it around in mason jars. You know, write a novel about it.

Let go and let God. Did you catch the let go part? LET GO.

marriage.

Yeah, that's my husband. He's hot. There's no two ways about it. He is a STONE FOX.

I saw Eric my first day of college (note: SAW, not MET). He was in an English class with me (one that he dropped the same day). And when he walked through the room, EVERY INCH OF ME melted. Seriously, it was just like in the movies. Time stopped. I can remember exactly where I was sitting, what he was wearing, the light in the room... Here is a picture of Eric at around 18. You'll see what I mean:

RIGHT? YUMMY. That day, Eric captured my heart. He did. I'm not even trying to be crazy about this, it's the truth. Up until we started dating, I only had eyes for Eric. All of my friends knew him as "My Mystery Man." I pranked called his dorm room, stared at him throughout every shared dinner in the cafeteria and asked every friend of his for Eric's info.

I bought my first Radiohead album, because I'd heard they were his favorite. I heard he liked "nice girls;" so, I tried to be nicer. Mostly, I was just in love with him.

I've been in love with Eric from the minute I laid eyes on him. Our story is a long one. A good one, but a long one. The short of it is, I'm a lucky woman.

Eric and I are very different people. I'm loud; he's quiet. I'm an optimist; he's a pessimist. I'm a buyer; he's a saver. I'm a doer; he's a thinker. On paper, we're complete opposites, but we work. We compliment each other.

We also fight like HELL. :) Something we both have in common is a stubborn streak a mile long. We both usually think we're right. It makes for some killer "conversations". Before we had Henry, our fights would sometimes result in me getting in the car and leaving, slamming the door behind me...

Henry has added a new dimension of stress to our relationship. However, he's also brought us closer together. We always worked at our marriage, trying to be fairer fighters, better partners. But Henry has made every fight, every disagreement, every unkind word seem paramount. We work as a team, constantly evaluating our relationship and working to be the best parents and examples to Henry.

It's hard work, but we both are passionate about setting a positive model of a loving relationship for Henry. That's why, when we first moved down here to Texas, we saw a THERAPIST. I feel like it's so taboo to admit that. I wish that wasn't true. The truth is, we just found ourselves in need of direction. We love each other so much; we love Henry so much, and it became clear that we had started unhealthy patterns that needed to be fixed.

Our time "on the couch" was so beneficial. We only went to 3 sessions, but in the interim time, we applied everything she suggested we look at. We read books, filled out surveys, but mostly we TALKED. TALKED. TALKED. We apologized for past wrongs, made promises for our future, and we grew. Eric and I are now more conscious of our attitudes, words and each others feelings. We are more aware.

I've come a long way since my time as a stalker. But the truth is, that boy who made my heart melt when I first laid eyes on him still gives me butterflies. Though our relationship started just like the movies, we are real people, with real issues, who work every day to be good to one another, and to our perfect baby boy. Thank God Eric is so good looking. He makes even the tough days seem easy.

What about you? What is your love story? How do you "keep the love alive?" Any tricks of the trade?

On Flying with a Toddler

Flying with a toddler is a little like a root canal. It often has to happen, but it's something that is anxiety filled and painful.

(Plane watching)

Hendo and I have flown three times. Once, when he was a little under a year, to Peoria, Illinois (my hometown) for my best friend's wedding. Once, when he was a little over a year, to North Carolina to meet my grandparents. And, just last week to Peoria, Illinois for my little sister's 16th birthday.

(Eating the snacks the flight attendant brought him)

I'm pretty lucky. For the most part, I have the most perfect child that has ever lived. Henry is sweet and funny, and rarely fussy. However, the stress of flying is, well, stressful. Walking through an airport with a child, people look at you like you're carrying anthrax. Usually, we've been pretty lucky. We've sat around people who play peek-a-boo with Henry behind their seats. One woman even let us play a baby game on her iPhone. People adore Henry. He is a sweetheart, and it's kinda hard to be mad at him, even when he's fussy. But there's always the fear that I'm going to sit next to a bad egg. Let's pray that never happens.

(Flash Face)

For the most part, Henry's "melt-downs" on planes have been short lived. We've flown close to 12 hours now. I can honestly say, he's probably cried for a total of 20 min. He's never even full out cried, just fussed. Most people have come up to me afterwards and marveled at how "good" he was. I'm a lucky woman.

(My little angel got his wings)

This last flight was BLESSED. There's really no other way to describe it. I have no idea how I got so lucky. We flew out of Austin, TX at 6:35. We had a row of three seats at the back of the plane to ourselves. Hendrix was tired, but didn't cry. He simply sat on the floor, and played with a few toys. When we got off the plane in Dallas (it was only a 40 min flight), I went and changed his diaper. We then sat at our next gate and he watched planes, played with his car and ate some fruit.

Our flight from Dallas was delayed, and while we sat in our seat (we got lucky again and had 2 seats to ourselves), Hendrix made eyes at the stewardess and BLEW HER KISSES while she demonstrated safety procedures. For this, she brought us bags of Craisins and crackers. She was smitten. By the time we finally took of, Hendrix was asleep. He then proceeded to SLEEP THE ENTIRE PLANE TRIP. I know. Miracles happen every day.

Here are my "secrets to flying":

• Nurse/ make sure baby has something to drink or eat during take off and landing. Henry has never pulled on his ears during a flight, and I'm pretty sure making sure that has helped us.
• SIPPY CUPS/ SNACKS are a must. If you don't have time to get something, or forget it, ask a flight attendant the second you get on the flight. They're usually wonderful about keeping baby happy.
• New/ Different little toys. I usually stop by the dollar store/ Targets cheap bins before flying. I buy roughly $5 worth of new toys and BOY DOES IT PAY to have something he hasn't seen before to take out and surprise him with.
• A box of band-aides. My friend Brandy suggested this, and I honestly don't know what I would have done without them a few times. Baby can stick them anywhere (they'll come off easily), and the box itself can be fascinating.

So, there you have it. Tell me, what do you do to keep baby entertained? Have you flown? Any ideas to add? Any horror stories?

we are all meant to shine, as children do.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”-- Marianne Williamson

It's probably semi-emo to put up that quote in association with these pictures, but I kept coming back to those words as I looked at these pictures, so why not?

I've been thinking a lot lately about how easily I become "dark." I have no problem complaining. Most days, my first reaction to stress is anger. I often have no patience at all for Henry's "curiosity." And I have a real problem speaking negatively about people. I can really be a "Debbie Downer"

You know what? I hate that. I hate that it is so much easier to be a lesser version of myself than the better one. I hate that I don't have an unending stream of grace and good will. I hate the thought of passing on a negative image of myself to Henry.

That thought is what helps me to stop and reflect. Every day, I see this little human soaking in the world and all it has to offer, unafraid. Henry trusts the world I create for him. If I'm happy, he's happy. If I go into something negatively, he feels that. It's the oddest thing. I can actually feel him mimic my mood. That is both terrifying and empowering. Hen makes me want to be the best version of myself, for him. If I am going to create his world view, don't I want him to see the world as beautiful and full? Don't I want him to be open and loving instead of closed and afraid? Of course.

He deserves that.

Saturday Night Fever

After the holidays, things were a little crazy:

So, I got all crazy on their craziness:

Thank God Henry finally learned how to entertain himself with video games (don't let him know the batteries are out of his controller)!

merry christmas

Aside from a minor emotional breakdown when my corn casserole bubbled over and started a small oven fire, I kept it together this year. We had the whole Texas crew at our house (12 people) for Christmas Eve and Christmas day. Honestly, it went fine, but I really think if we host again, I'll be only doing ONE or the other. It was a little much...

My family comes from Illinois today. They'll be here in 4 hours, and I AM STOKED. I'm still bustling around trying to get the house cleaned up from the last few days. Tis the season, eh?

So tell me, how did you keep it together this season? Did you entertain or travel? Any advice for a rookie like me? How does Martha do it without breaking down at the kitchen sink and demanding everyone go home? HOW DOES SHE DO IT?

It's 2.

Hendrix has been waking up more at night lately. He's also been waking up around 6:30. I've been reading Dr. Sears' "The Sleep Book," because I really want to exhaust (no pun intended) attachment parenting's answer to sleep problems before I look elsewhere. I have been so happy with our parenting choices so far. I really have been. I don't want to turn somewhere else out of desperation, you know? After all, Henry will eventually sleep all night on his own. Even though that seems like a lifetime away, I know I'll blink and he'll be away at college.

But, of course, his night waking caused a big fight between E and I. It's kinda inevitable. Eric wakes up after I've already been dealing with Henry. So, I'm already frustrated and exhausted. Then, he attempts to help, but just ends up offending me. It's brutal. I guess that's what happens at 1 in the morning?

UGH. I think I'll be reading some Tich Nhat Hahn tomorrow morning. I have got to reconnect with my center of gravity and sanity. Also, I think I'll be pairing it with a giant cup of coffee.

In the meantime, check this kid out:

the multi-tasking mother

eric and i started reading cornel west's memoir over christmas break. cornel is a power house philosopher, but an even stronger person. in his memoir, he talks at length about his work ethic. he's the type that greets the morning sun with a coffee and book in hand, ready to change the world. his life story is amazing, but he left me constantly wondering, how does he do it? how does he juggle book deals, teaching, family, relationships, travel, and still find time to put a smile on?

lately? i've been stressed; i've been overwhelmed. i'm sure this is nothing that would surprise anyone. however, i'm not usually the type to feel incompetent of keeping it together. becoming a mother has been the most amazing experience. it's made me stronger, more alive. but, it's also made me responsible for another human being 24/7, and that's a lot to handle. most days, i'm lucky if i get ANYTHING done after returning to work. i could come up with a million excuses for the way things are going, but that doesn't quite cut it for me.

you see, i want to be the type of mom that does it all. i realize this might be an unattainable goal, but i want it so badly. i think we all know those people that make the rest of us feel bad-- the people that eat "to-do" lists for breakfast. those people exist. they are REAL. they get stuff done. and i want to be one of those people.

i have this terrible fear that i'm going to look back on my life and somehow feel cheated, like i could have been all those things i wanted to be but was too lazy. i think that may be my greatest fear. i am terrified of mediocrity, of the status quo.

& so, my new years resolution? to become accountable to that mother of my dreams. i want to BECOME HER. i recognize i am now mothering an infant. i know he probably doesn't care that his mom doesn't have it all together. but someday? i want him to feel completely secure and happy. i know that if i don't feel completely secure and happy within myself, i can't make that world real for him. and that? it ain't happenin'.