8 years ago today

i learned that excruciating pain can be completely erased when a tiny human takes his first breath in your arms.

i have started this post a million times.  i honestly don't know where to begin.

 

i talk a lot about how you view life as an adventure.  lucky for me, i was chosen to tag along on your trip.  sometimes, you even let me drive!

carrying you was the most complete feeling i have ever had in my life.  i wonder if you, being a boy and all, will ever be able to comprehend that.  it was amazing (minus the months when i was so tired and sick i would pass out in my work clothes, only to change when i got up in the middle of the night to vomit).  all was right with my world.  i have never felt that level of contentment before, or since.

along with that though, was a constant worry that i would lose you.  never, in the history of birthin' babies, was a woman so happy to jump into maternity wear.  looking back, i'm sure it was my feeble attempt to hurry the pregnancy past the point of no return. 

it took a few years to get pregnant with you.  i took 3 pregnancy tests, each one made me smile bigger, my heart race faster. 

feeling you move in my ever-growing belly was the best, i felt it pretty early, at 4 months along.  from then on, you never stopped.  you would react to music, to daddy's voice, and to me laying down.  as soon as i would lay down, you would wake up.  they say that's because when i was walking around, it would rock you to sleep.  the bigger you got, the crazier my stomach would move.  eventually, the movement was visible from the outside and every once in a while i could see the outline of a hand or foot.

ironically, what turned out to be my last doctors appointment was on the day you were born.  the afternoon was strange, a mix a disbelief and excitement that it was actually happening.  i went to the hospital around 6:00pm, dialated to 6.  five hours later, at 11:07pm, all 8lbs., 2oz, of you arrived.  daddy cut the cord and they laid you on my chest.  the very first words you ever heard were me whispering "i've waited so long for you."

you have no idea how much love awaited your arrival.  daddy and i adored you, long before we actually met you.  you were concieved because i loved your father more than i had ever loved another human being.  you are the result of a love like no other.  no matter what happens, remember that. 

happy birthday, baby.  i  love you more.

the vintage pearl

I recently purchased this adorable little necklace for myself.



i love it!

it was handmade by a stay-at-home momma with 4 punks of her own.  i love the simplicity (and affordability) of all her designs.


you can check more of her stuff out here. 

sweet september

you know, i'm usually a summer kind of girl.  i love the warmth, the sunshine, the freedom to go and do whatever we want without the confines of school or weather.

but, this summer has been different.  maybe I'm getting old.  we haven't really gone anywhere, mostly because it's too hot and I hate crowds. 

for the first time ever, i really can't wait until fall, which by the way, starts on september 22nd.  i'm  looking forward to cozy, cool evenings; cooking real meals again; apple picking; baking; and the beach when it has gone silent from all it's summer visitors.



happy september!

Weekending

snips of snails and puppy dog tails

when you tell a 7-year old boy that he can be in charge of the days fun, that he can call all the shots, he can take the lead - be absolutely sure that you can handle the adventure. 

this boy takes the lead very seriously.  we packed a picnic, blanket, and the necessary g.i.joe guys, and headed to the mountains for the afternoon.


We took whatever trail he wanted, hopped on only the rocks he wanted, and limbo-ed under fallen trees.



i kept saying, "punky, slow down!" - "keep yours eyes open" - "stay close to me!"

to which he finally replied, "mom, don't be such a sissy, i'm not gonna get hurt!"

three steps later, he landed next to this:




a 3 1/2 foot long southern pacific rattlesnake.  she was trying to move out of his way, but alas, he was moving faster than her.  luckily, he recognized the tone in my voice when i said "punky - FREEZE!" was not a tone to disobey.  i told him to slowly take a big step backwards.  he did exactly as i asked without question. it was terrifying and exciting all at the same time.
 
needless to say, we decided not to hike any further, the area we were in was pretty remote.  so we found a nice big, flat rock surrounded by water (it was the only rock he'd sit on for fear of more snakes!) and ate our picnic.



after that, we took a relaxing, snake free, scenic ride on the ski lifts and giggled about how scared we both were!




that night as i was tucking my tired adventurer in bed, he told me how much fun the day was, and made me promise we would never do it again!

Interactions

I came across this post on another blog, and it has really made me more aware.  Just thought I'd share!


"I try not to use this blog space to rant or be preachy. I’m not a fan of ranting or sermons (unless it’s Sunday - and even then it really depends on the sermon).

Think of this as a desperate plea.

Yesterday, while I was trying to enjoy my manicure, I watched in horror as the two women across from me talked on their phones the entire time they were getting their manicures. They employed head nods, eyebrow raises, and finger pointing to instruct the manicurists on things like nail length and polish choices.  I really couldn't believe it.

I’ve had my nails done by the same two women for 10 years. I know their names (their real Vietnamese names), their children’s names, and many of their stories. They know my name, my children’s names, and many of my stories. When I finally made a comment about the women on their cell phones, they both quickly averted their eyes. Finally, in a whisper, Susan said, “They don’t know. Most of them don’t think of us as real people.”

On the way home, I stopped at Barnes & Noble to pick up a magazine. The woman ahead of me in line bought two books, applied for a new “reader card,” and asked to get one book gift wrapped without getting off of her cell phone. She plowed through the entire exchange without making eye contact or directly speaking to the young woman working at the counter. She never acknowledged the presence of the human being across from her.

After leaving Barnes & Noble, I drove through the Chick-fil-A drive-thru to get a Diet Dr. Pepper. Right as I pulled up to the window, my cell phone rang. I wasn’t quite sure, but I thought it might be Charlie’s school calling. I answered it. It wasn’t Charlie’s school – it was someone calling to confirm my hair appointment. I got off the phone as quickly as I could.

In the short time it took me to say, “Yes, I’ll be at my appointment,” the woman in the window and I had finished our soda-for-money transaction. I apologized to her the second I got off of the phone. I said, “I’m so sorry. The phone rang right when I was pulling up and I thought it was my son’s school.”

I must have surprised her because she got huge tears in her eyes and said, “Thank you. Thank you so much. You have no idea how humiliating it is sometimes. They don’t even see us.”

I don’t know how it feels for her, but I do know how it feels to be an invisible member of the service industry. It can suck.

I worked my way through undergrad and some of graduate school by waiting tables. I worked in a really nice restaurant that was close to campus and a hot spot for wealthy college kids and their parents (parents who were visiting for the weekend and treating their kids and their kids’ friends to dinner). I was in my late 20’s and praying to finish my bachelor’s degree before I hit 30.

When the customers were kind and respectful, it was OK, but one “waiter as object” moment could tear me apart. Unfortunately, I now see those moments happening all of the time.

I see adults who don’t even look at their waiters when they speak to them. I see parents who let their young children talk down to store clerks. I see people rage and scream at receptionists then treat the bosses/doctors/bankers with the utmost respect.

And, I see the insidious nature of race, class, and privilege playing out in one of the most historically damaging ways possible – the server/served relationship.

Everyone wants to know why customer service has gone to hell in a handbasket.

I want to know why customer behavior has gone to hell in a handbasket.

When we treat people as objects, we dehumanize them. We do something really terrible to their souls and to our own.

Martin Buber, an Austrian-born philosopher, wrote about the differences between an "I-it" relationship and an "I-you" relationship. An "I-it" relationship is basically what we create when we are in transactions with people whom we treat like objects - people who are simply there to serve us or complete a task.

I-you relationships are characterized by human connection and empathy.

I’m not suggesting that we engage in a deep, meaningful relationship with the man who works at the cleaners or the woman who works at the drive-thru, but I am suggesting that we stop dehumanizing people and start looking them in the eye when we speak to them. If we don’t have the energy or time to do that, we should stay at home.

And, for the love of humankind, we need to get off of our damn phones and show some basic respect to the people who are standing in front of us.

Buber wrote, “When two people relate to each other authentically and humanly, God is the electricity that surges between them.”

I just don’t think treating each other with basic dignity is asking too much."

If you have a minute, go here and check out the comments to her post, they are worth reading.

good night

so the other night, I'm tucking my punkin pie into bed and i give him a kiss and tell him i love him to pieces.

he says, "i love you more."

"impossible," i say, "there is no love is bigger than momma love."

"yes there is," he whispers. "mine."