my first day as a sahm

We woke up yesterday morning around 8:30. Hendrix was all smiles and sounds, and I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. I changed and dressed Hen (for the first time), and took a shower while he played in his stroller.

After I got all clean and fabulous, he played in his pack and play while I made a shopping list, cleaned up and finished a load of laundry.

Then, we hopped in the car, ready for adventure!

When we arrived at Target? Henry was asleep. He woke up for his favorite store! :)

When we finished Targeting , Hendrix needed a full change (diaper and outfit). He probably wet himself with excitement. I know I did. After workin' our wetness out, we took a "first day at work" present to daddy, and went to lunch at Chipotle!

After lunch and tons of kisses, we went to the post office and sent off a Father's day gift to Paw-Paw. Hendrix helped me pack up the package, and all the people waiting in line fell in love with him-- DUH.

With our goods in the mail, we went back to the shopping center. Hendrix was fussy. So, I cranked the AC, put on some tunes and fed him in the backseat. We hung out there for a long time laughing and talking. Then, we went into Michael's to get some craft supplies! Hendrix loved the shopping cart.

After getting our crafting supplies, we came home, changed into something more comfortable, and played for about 30 minutes. Henry watched about 2 seconds of the Elmo movie I bought him. :) Mostly, he just laughed when Elmo did. It was pretty adorable.

When Henry started to fuss, I walked him for a few minutes, and he CONKED OUT. I set him down and got started on my craft project! He slept for 2 hours while I made and addressed "We Moved" letters for friends and family! You might think, no big deal, but for me? BIG DEAL. They turned out great, I thought!

Then, the fam came home and Hendrix helped me set the table!

All in all? BEST. DAY. OF. MY. LIFE.

the big move.

two days, one hotel, 17 hours of driving and we're here.

this place is just beautiful. heat is different here. the sun envelops your skin in a way that feels welcomed. greg and carol's (my in-law's) property is like something out of a movie. there are giant, open fields and crooked, reaching trees. i can just imagine hendrix exploring, beating a path with a stick. it feels like home already, and that's largely due to the fact that we are so wanted here. greg and carol have been wonderful; they've missed us so much. i'm so glad we're with family.

i've only been "home" with hendrix 4 days now, but already, i see how different staying home will be. on a mama note, i'm able to see hendrix changing in front of my eyes. he's starting to stand up while holding onto things on his own. he's almost crawling. he's sitting up by himself more and more everyday. i am thrilled to be with my little boy. i'm watching him grow and providing a safe and nurturing environment for that to happen.

however, on an independent note, there are little red flags i'm making myself aware of. for example, i get bored easily. today, all i wanted to do was GET OUT! go do something! luckily, hendrix is a go get 'em baby. he want to explore! so, i know that together, we'll make a good team. i'll make sure to keep us busy. another flag was i realized how MUCH TIME I SPEND ON THE INTERNET. i'm going to have to cut back. i'm giving myself some slack here, because i've just been separated from all of my closest friends and family, but stalking them on the internet isn't healthy. :) okay, and the one flag i fear the most... hendrix almost fell off the bed today. THERE! i said it! he almost FELL OFF OF THE BED. i simply turned to throw a dirty diaper into the bag, and he was laughing his way to a concussion. i have to watch him like a hawk, and this is only the beginning. so as of now, i have some "goals," if you will. 1. find interesting, exploratory things to do with hendrix (other than walk around target...) 2. find a healthy limit to internet-ing 3. WATCH HENDRIX LIKE A HAWK. i'll keep you posted on how that all goes.

in the meantime, i'll just be cuddlin' with my boo.

my lil' man is sick, sick. he's teething and his poor nose is stuffy. last night he was up every 30 min last night, stretching and whining. miserable. i wish there was a way i could explain to him what's happening. for now, tons of kisses and time cuddling will have to suffice.

june 4th

we are moving june fourth.

we are moving june fourth.

we are moving june fourth.

i don't really think i've wrapped my head around what that means. in less than a month, i will be making the biggest move of my life. eric and i have been selling some of our furniture on craigslist. it's odd watching our things taken away. they're just things, but they're like mac and cheese at a potluck-- they're a staple. they're the first things we're saying goodbye to, and that's making this all seem real for the first time.

my mom has been laying it on THICK. she's trying not to, but i mean, her baby (and her baby's baby) is moving 17 hours away. she's upset. i get it (mom, if you're reading this, i really do understand). it's going to be very hard leaving my family here, knowing they'll miss so many of henry's firsts, knowing he'll miss time with them.

when i get really down, i remember why we're doing this. i think about waking up in the morning, making coffee, holding henry on my hip and getting eric get ready for work (i'm reading "the meaning of wife" by anne kingston; so, i do realize this is something that june cleaver and foldgers commercials have done to me). i think about all the special things henry and i can do together. i'm excited about stroller rides, the library, zoo visits, grocery runs, afternoon naps... i mean, i have done some awesome things in my day: organized protests, directed plays, shaved my legs while 9 months pregnant, but NOTHING compares to the joy i've had taking care of my son. NOTHING.

i mean, look at this kid... can you blame me?

& so, those moments of sadness and doubt? they don't last for long. he's worth it...

the mayor of tough land

it's dark in the house. eric is downstairs grading papers, and i'm in our bedroom, sitting cross-legged on the bed, watching henry and wrigley sleep. peace.

i've been directing this play-- since early february. after school, i've been hanging around with kids (who i love) and working on a play. for the first 3 and a half months, it was you can't take it with you. then, when some kids just weren't showing up to rehearsals, it became an improv show. now, i want to shoot myself for not canceling the whole thing (eric could have a huge "i told you so" moment with this whole thing, but thank god he's not doing that to me). the only reason i'm not throwing in the towel is i feel terrible for the kids who really want to do this. i feel bad for the kids who've worked so hard and spent so much time. they don't want it all to end-- i get that. but me? ugh. i am DONE-zo. i have SO MUCH TO DO.

babies are hard. did you know that? they're tough. they're tough on their own, but working a full time job makes everything even tougher. working a full time job and then volunteering to direct a spring play makes it even EVEN tougher. working a full time job, directing a spring play and planning a move? you're flat out living in tough land. no, you're the MAYOR of tough land. & this mayor? she wants a BREAK.

we're movin' ya'll

three years ago, eric and i bought our first home. we moved to peoria for three great reasons: eric got a full ride to attend bradley university for his masters, i got a job at my old high school (where i always dreamed of teaching), and my parents live here! we were excited. we bought our house after one day of searching, and never looked back. this house has been pretty perfect for our first home. we made it ours. i've stocked up a thousand memories between these walls.

but, i always knew we'd leave. for whatever reason, peoria has never been it for us. i knew that. even moving boxes upon boxes into this house, i knew we'd be leaving. i knew we'd move on.

in november, they closed my school. woodruff high school has been my second home for many years. i've celebrated 7 birthdays there. i've had some of my proudest moments there. i became a real teacher there. if i think too long about what closing woodruff means to me, i cry. it gets to me at the weirdest moments: when i turn the lights on in an empty auditorium, when i sit alone in my classroom at the end of a day, when the first student says, "Seaaaaaman!" suddenly, i find myself choked up and nostalgic. i find myself helpless to stop something i wish i could. a school closing is like someone you love dying. next year, my students will be shipped off to different high schools and teachers who have taught at the same school, some for 20 years, will be teaching in classrooms across the city. it's a bum deal-- the whole thing.

i don't have tenure yet. i would be getting that next year. but, i always saw myself teaching at woodruff. i always wanted to be a part of the crew that inspired me to become a teacher. next year, that won't exist anymore. do i still love teaching, yes. of course i do. however, i can't explain it, i need something different. oh, and i was pinked slipped-- JERKS.

so, in june, we'll be moving to austin, texas. as of now, i am looking for a part-time job. that's right, PART-TIME. i will be a stay at home mama. there is nothing that makes me feel happier than writing that. i'm going to be a cowboy boot wearin', breast-feedin', liberal in a red state rockin' SAHM.

when we first move to austin, we'll be shackin' it up in eric's parent's awesome RV; we don't know where we'll be after that. we are now in the process of getting rid of roughly 80% of our belongings. i've already been researching play groups for henry and attachment parenting groups for me. when eric and i see pool floaties at target, we squeeze each other's hands and smile. this is right.

henry eats; i cry.

when i first read that pediatricians recommend waiting until 6 months to introduce solids, i thought, 6 months? that's so far away! there were so many times i thought i would start early. i bought rice cereal when he was 4 months old. but, i put it off. as the six month "deadline" approached, i found myself feeling downright sad. something about his growing up in that way depressed me. i know that is terribly selfish to admit, but it did. there is something so powerful about having someone rely on you for their every need. yes. sometimes it's overwhelming, but mostly? it's wonderful.

breast-feeding has been like something out of an indie flick with a terrific soundtrack for me. when we first started, it was tough. henry wasn't latching right, and i was worried we wouldn't be able to hack it. we met with lactation consultants often during the first few weeks, and for the first months, it was painful. my wrists ached from constantly re-latching him, and i worried i was doing something wrong. but then? around month three, we got it. suddenly everything worked. spending time feeding hendrix wasn't a chore, it was a blessing. each time he ate, it was just the two of us again, a sacred ritual. there are so many little things i'll keep close to my heart always, like the way he reaches up and grabs the collar of my shirt, the way his hands touch my face, the way he smiles while eating or the way or the way his eyes drift off into the most peaceful sleep. we are so close during our time; we're inseparable.

i know, of course, this can't last forever. i understand that, but i have so cherished this perfect design. i have loved every minute of being needed in such a powerful way. and now? henry is becoming independent. something other than my body is starting to nourish him. and someday, he won't need me to survive at all. of course, he will still need me, but not in an evolutionary sense. he will grow and be on his own.

and that? that makes me sad. happysad. i remember feeling this way after his birth. after 9 months of our secret existence, he was venturing out into the world apart from me (but still a part of me). i remember mourning our separation a little. yes. i was thrilled to have him in my arms and truly know him, but part of me missed having him all to myself perhaps each milestone of his will feel this way, like a departure?

dear lord., if i feel this way about APPLESAUCE, what am i going to do when this kid goes to school?