Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Friday, August 26, 2011
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
August 16, 1995 at 8:31 AM was one of those moments for me.
That was the moment our son was born, the moment sealed in my memory with joy and disbelief....I couldn't believe that he was really here, that he was really a boy, that he was so freaking beautiful....I remember saying, "Oh my goodness," as the doctor held him up for me to see, positive that couldn't have been all there was to becoming two instead of one.
And to the girl who prided herself in not crying at sad movies and remaining stoic in trying times, the first sight of my baby surprised me with tears. I was overwhelmed with this intense feeling of love and pride and amazement and worry and disbelief and it turns out, much of that feeling can be summed up in one concept: motherhood. And the only outlet for this surge of emotion was through tears.
The first born child is so very lucky, so says a first born child myself (sorry, second born beloved daughter), but it's true. He was the focus of all our attention. People would ask me if he was a good baby, and I would say yes, of course he is....then when his baby sister came along I learned he wasn't actually an easy baby. But he was our baby, and he was perfect!
August 16, 1995, at 8:31 AM, 16 years ago today.
It's gone by with the blink of an eye. Now when I see my son standing taller than me, I can't help but remember his tiny fingers and toes, his out of proportion with his body chubby checks, his swirly, curly cowlick in the center of his forehead....He may have grown and changed in looks, but when I look at him, I still see my baby. It's weird to think they let babies get drivers licenses.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Saturday, August 6, 2011
I lied a little about the perfection part. One side does have a cowlick and the other side just has a tweak out.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Often, when I walk, I get happy. Or at least, content. I start walking and suddenly, it's a good thing. Today was not one of those days.
I thought about bagging the walk because I had a slight headache, but then I caught sight of my butt in the mirror and thought it's not bad, but walking is what keeps it from getting worse. And when I opened the bathroom door all the dogs were waiting for me.
So I find my sweatshirt, but on my dog poop shoes (when did I step in that?) outside and am ready to harness and leash three dogs.
Emma has other ideas and can't wait. She runs into the alley while I'm putting Olive's harness on. I get Sarah hooked up and walk out to Emma, who of course, seeing the other two dogs ready to walk makes her ready so she takes off running .
She turns right and heads down the sidewalk. I am by now not using my sugar voice, but my scary whisper voice that means if I could be yelling at you, I would. That isn't working. She stops and looks back at me, like, come on Mom, let's go! Instead, I kneel down and cajole her back to me.
I should have turned back home right then. Instead, we went down to the trail and Emma was the lead dog. She would not walk on the right side. She was pulling or stopping suddenly, leashes were tangled, Sarah kept doing the 'the leash is under my tail' squat and Olive held back as much as she could. Half of the walk I didn't see Olive because she was at my heels.
And Emma pooped twice. In less than half a block. And while I was trying to pick it up, she was doing that scrabble run they do, when the leash is too short but they think they can stretch it through sheer force.
This morning, I think I would have found happiness and contentment just as well, sitting on the couch, reading a book and enjoying my cup of coffee!