My loyal readers out there may be noticing that the frequency of my postings are becoming further and further apart. This is not deliberate. Although I did start out of the gate certain that I would maintain at least a daily, if not a couple of times a week, posting schedule. Then reality hit! Ha!
But I do promise you, within my control, I will post at least once a week!
Today's post is about spacing out. Yes! Don't you love that? Who doesn't love just spacing out?
Kids do it all the time. Ever notice a baby or a toddler just zone out? Then you call their name or say something and this little funny smile creeps up on their face, eyes still somewhere far away, until they blink and boom their back to the present.
Us adults used to space out and day dream all the time. Until technology robbed it from us. Now whenever we have moments to space out, we instead go to our iphones, blackberries, laptops or any other gadgets to play around with. But we must reserve time for spacing out!! Or rather, PRESERVE space out time. It's very important.
I hear moms all the time talk about how they don't have any "me" time anymore. Between juggling multiple toddlers, babies, schedules, cooking, cleaning, and every other mommy demand, their personal time is virtually non-existent. So the roaming question is always, how do I create more me time?
Most of us think that "me" time requires going out to get a pedicure, massage or some other form of pampering. And don't get me wrong, I am the queen of pampering! I need a massage like babies need milk. The only problem is, I can't always get one. At least not as often as I'd like to. So where do we dig up this mommy time? Between drop-offs, soccer games, changing diapers, etc etc?
I was talking with a few of my girlfriends the other day about prayer. How prayer has become such a struggle for me. I used to hop out of bed and start my day out with it. But now it's like pulling teething. We all complained that there's just no time for prayer anymore. I'm sure God had a good laugh at that one! Then I remembered all the times I had to get up in the middle of the night to nurse or rock Cub back to sleep. All the moments when I was in a dark room with him asleep in my arms with nothing to do -- except pray. But did I do it? Not, usually. I did do some quality spacing out though. It can actually be quite funny to take in all the random thoughts and images that cross your mind while zoning out. You might come across a high school classmate you haven't thought about or seen since 10th grade!
As my girlfriends and I continued to talk, we all realized there are mini-me moments that we could be taking more advantage of. But instead we find ourselves cramming in little odds and ends of things that don't "have to" be done in that moment. Some of the best mini-me moments are at a red light. When you're stuck waiting and instead of getting on your cell phone or changing the radio station you can just zone out. Tune the world out. And be. You'd be surprised how refreshing 15 seconds of spacing out can be. It's powerful!
So yes, our lives as moms are demanding. And yes, it's very difficult to find me time, but no, it's not impossible. We just need to be more creative and perhaps redefine what "me time" really is. Spacing out has all sorts of benefits. And it's also free!! And can be done anywhere and everywhere. Go ahead, try it!!
Monday, October 26, 2009
Monday, October 19, 2009
Get Up, Stand Up
My baby is gone.He was just here.
I found some of his old booties.
They're tiny and precious.
They belong on a doll's feet.
I put away some of his clothes. To believe that a very short time ago he couldn't fit into the newborn onesies we had. But now they're all piled up, shoved inside a closet and waiting. Either to be given away or for a sibling to come sometime in the future. Or to be eaten by nasty silverfish hiding in the deep crevices of the closet.
That baby I had, that yummy, gummy, beautiful cooing little baby boy has vanished. I cradled him to bed one night. All cozy and perfectly curled up into my arms. Then I woke up and poof he was gone. Just like that. I'm sure there was even the "poof smoke" when it happened too. But since it was the middle of the night I didn't get to see it.
Now I have a wiggly, twirling, adorable greased pig. Not a pig like the dirty, smelly, gross animal. A cute piggy. Like a Babe type pig. The frisky type of pig you want to kiss all over and play with. One that George Clooney would get. A Wilbur pig that bats his eyes at me and makes me laugh. That frolics and giggles and is impossible to catch or hold still.
I think this pig ate my baby.
Somehow during nap and bedtime this little piggy disappears. And leaves me with a bop bag. You know, those balloon-like things that you bop down and they keep bouncing right back up? That's what's happening in the crib.
No more baby.
No more pig.
Just a bop bag.
Cubby is now all about pulling up. He has mastered this skill and wants to show it off on every occasion. Especially during sleep times. I lay his little self down and bop he's up again! Standing, holding onto the crib railing with his four teeth grin.
I let him do this a few times, hoping he'll get bored or tired or both. But after what feels like 10 hours, I gently put him back down and firmly tell him it's time to go to sleep. He looks at me like, yeah right. Then scrunches up his little face with all his might, trying to use those little six-pack abs to pull himself up again. As soon as I step away --- BOP. What do I do with this new bop bag?
When I try to resort to picking him up and rocking him to sleep, the cute greasy pig comes back and is wiggling and squirming out of my arms!
It's a conspiracy.
They're double-teaming me. That bop bag and greasy pig.
And what's really pathetic is they're outsmarting me!
I guess I'll make peace with them for now.
I gotta admit, they're cute.
And when I turn my face during these moments so he won't see, I can't help but to want to laugh at how ridiculous this is.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Cold Communication
When Cub was first born I made a best friend.
Her name is Stacy. In the early days she was just "the nurse practitioner". But after a gazillion phone calls, voice messages, heart to hearts, she became "Stacy". Or better yet, Stace.
Those first few weeks, every little sniff, cough, gulp, blink, long breath, poop, sent me running to the phone.
At one point I actually felt inclined to send "Stacy" a thank you note for being so helpful and patient with me as a new mom.
My conversations went like this (with exaggeration of course):
"Hi, Stacy. It's me. Cub is breathing. Is this normal?"
"Hi, Stacy. It's me again. Cub just sneezed and then a little snot came out of his nose. Does he have pneumonia?"
"What up, Stace. You know who it is. Cub only sipped from one boob today. Is my milk gone?"
"Stacy! Where are you?!! Cub is throwing up. Does he need to go to the ER?"
"Hey, there. It's me... again. Cub is sleeping. He's actually sleeping! Can you believe it?!! Should I be worried?"
Poor Stacy.
Then one day I woke and realized it had been MONTHS since I called Stacy. Wow. I sort of missed her. But I actually felt in a good groove. Sure Cub was doing all of the same things, but I actually was more relaxed about it.
So here we are today. Cub is sniff sniff sneezing. Cough cough, choke cough, nose running coughing. And I know better than to call Stacy. But I wish there was some magic potion I could give him to make him feel better. I've already tried the saline drops and humidifier. He doesn't have a fever to my knowledge and seems otherwise fine. But the poor kid can't even drink a bottle without yanking it away to gasp for air.
In an attempt to fill my Stacy void, I find myself striking up random conversations with strangers to give the latest sick update.
Yesterday I was at Babiesrus. I had to pee so bad because I had been driving Cub around town for an hour to let him get a good nap in sitting upright in his car seat with his stuffy nose. So I run to the bathroom and what a relief!! When I came out of the stall there was an employee washing her hands. Naturally I had to involve her. So there we are washing hands and I'm telling her about how badly I had to pee because my son's sick and I just finished driving him around town for an hour and how hard it is to have a sick baby, etc etc. At first she gave me a warm smile and commented about how great it is to pee after having to pee for so long. But after I continued on with how sick Cub's been and all of his latest symptoms, I could see the "weirdo, weirdo" alert flashing on her forehead and the "vacate the bathroom" alarm ringing in her ears. She sort of started walking backwards out of the bathroom, maintaining her trying-to-be-nice smile. Then bolted!
I didn't even get to describe the various colors of muscous to her!!
Where's Stacy when I need her!
Her name is Stacy. In the early days she was just "the nurse practitioner". But after a gazillion phone calls, voice messages, heart to hearts, she became "Stacy". Or better yet, Stace.
Those first few weeks, every little sniff, cough, gulp, blink, long breath, poop, sent me running to the phone.
At one point I actually felt inclined to send "Stacy" a thank you note for being so helpful and patient with me as a new mom.
My conversations went like this (with exaggeration of course):
"Hi, Stacy. It's me. Cub is breathing. Is this normal?"
"Hi, Stacy. It's me again. Cub just sneezed and then a little snot came out of his nose. Does he have pneumonia?"
"What up, Stace. You know who it is. Cub only sipped from one boob today. Is my milk gone?"
"Stacy! Where are you?!! Cub is throwing up. Does he need to go to the ER?"
"Hey, there. It's me... again. Cub is sleeping. He's actually sleeping! Can you believe it?!! Should I be worried?"
Poor Stacy.
Then one day I woke and realized it had been MONTHS since I called Stacy. Wow. I sort of missed her. But I actually felt in a good groove. Sure Cub was doing all of the same things, but I actually was more relaxed about it.
So here we are today. Cub is sniff sniff sneezing. Cough cough, choke cough, nose running coughing. And I know better than to call Stacy. But I wish there was some magic potion I could give him to make him feel better. I've already tried the saline drops and humidifier. He doesn't have a fever to my knowledge and seems otherwise fine. But the poor kid can't even drink a bottle without yanking it away to gasp for air.
In an attempt to fill my Stacy void, I find myself striking up random conversations with strangers to give the latest sick update.
Yesterday I was at Babiesrus. I had to pee so bad because I had been driving Cub around town for an hour to let him get a good nap in sitting upright in his car seat with his stuffy nose. So I run to the bathroom and what a relief!! When I came out of the stall there was an employee washing her hands. Naturally I had to involve her. So there we are washing hands and I'm telling her about how badly I had to pee because my son's sick and I just finished driving him around town for an hour and how hard it is to have a sick baby, etc etc. At first she gave me a warm smile and commented about how great it is to pee after having to pee for so long. But after I continued on with how sick Cub's been and all of his latest symptoms, I could see the "weirdo, weirdo" alert flashing on her forehead and the "vacate the bathroom" alarm ringing in her ears. She sort of started walking backwards out of the bathroom, maintaining her trying-to-be-nice smile. Then bolted!
I didn't even get to describe the various colors of muscous to her!!
Where's Stacy when I need her!
Friday, October 9, 2009
Crunch
This evening I was in Cub's room as he worked to fall asleep. After struggling a bit to put himself down, I decided to quietly soothe him with a melodic hum. Naturally, my not-so-melodic hum made him cry out even more. If he could've expressed himself in words, he probably would've said something about how off-key my humming was and how could I really expect him to fall asleep to that?! Lucky for me words have not become him yet.
After putting "the hum" to bed, I continued to gently pat him in the crib and rock his little legs, which seemed to have a mind of their own, jolting up and down as if on some secret sugar high. Cub had started to settle down for the most part now, everything except those active legs. Then I heard it -- A crunching sound.
What is he chewing on?! I panicked. It was too dark to see anything. The crunching continued.
Cub goes to bed with two loveys in his crib and both of them are soft animals. I did buy him one lovey that has chewable edges but I knew this wasn't in his crib. Then it occurred to me. Oh my gosh, he's gotten a hold of some nails or screws -- something terrible! How did he get them? I'm the most irresponsible mother! I managed to allow my 8 month old son to sneak nails into his bed!
Crunch, crunch...
The sound was atrocious! Worse than someone scraping their long fingernails down a chalk board. I immediately felt my way up to his face in the dark prepared to do the Heimlich. Clear the air passage, clear the air passage, I rehearsed, trying to quickly remember all the tips from high school health class.
Crunch, crunch...
My internal dialogue: My child eats nails! A metal eater. An almost crawling human garbage disposal --
When my fingers reached his little mouth. Nothing was there.
I tried to force my fingers into his little mouth as gently and gracefully as I could, trying to recover all the nails and scrap metal he managed to get in there, probably a junk yard full. But nothing.
I was perturbed.
Crunch, crunch...
There it was again!
I rushed my fingers back to his mouth. And then felt it.
Sharp as metal --- teeth.
He was grinding his new teeth!
About a week ago, Cub's two top teeth started cutting through his gums. Now he has a nice set of four teeth -- two top, two bottom. At any given moment he loves to break into this toothy goofy ear-to-ear grin to show off his latest achievement.
And now, it appears he likes to grind them together while trying to fall asleep.
Being a former hypochondriac, I would have rushed him off to ER after reading that one of the symptoms for baby teeth grinding is a sign of a parasite in their stomach!! But more commonly, and to my relief, it's an absolutely normal thing for babies to do when they first discover their teeth. (Check out one of the articles here)
Since I'm not usually in the room with him as he falls asleep I have no idea when this started or for how long it will go on. Most of the articles I read said it will subside within a few months. Or when he gets bored with it. Once the novelty has worn off.
I'm thankful that he wasn't swallowing nails tonight. And that most likely (in the name of Jesus) he doesn't have some 20 foot long worm in his tummy. But after hearing that grinding sound, I must admit those issues aren't much worse!
After putting "the hum" to bed, I continued to gently pat him in the crib and rock his little legs, which seemed to have a mind of their own, jolting up and down as if on some secret sugar high. Cub had started to settle down for the most part now, everything except those active legs. Then I heard it -- A crunching sound.
What is he chewing on?! I panicked. It was too dark to see anything. The crunching continued.
Cub goes to bed with two loveys in his crib and both of them are soft animals. I did buy him one lovey that has chewable edges but I knew this wasn't in his crib. Then it occurred to me. Oh my gosh, he's gotten a hold of some nails or screws -- something terrible! How did he get them? I'm the most irresponsible mother! I managed to allow my 8 month old son to sneak nails into his bed!
Crunch, crunch...
The sound was atrocious! Worse than someone scraping their long fingernails down a chalk board. I immediately felt my way up to his face in the dark prepared to do the Heimlich. Clear the air passage, clear the air passage, I rehearsed, trying to quickly remember all the tips from high school health class.
Crunch, crunch...
My internal dialogue: My child eats nails! A metal eater. An almost crawling human garbage disposal --
When my fingers reached his little mouth. Nothing was there.
I tried to force my fingers into his little mouth as gently and gracefully as I could, trying to recover all the nails and scrap metal he managed to get in there, probably a junk yard full. But nothing.
I was perturbed.
Crunch, crunch...
There it was again!
I rushed my fingers back to his mouth. And then felt it.
Sharp as metal --- teeth.
He was grinding his new teeth!
About a week ago, Cub's two top teeth started cutting through his gums. Now he has a nice set of four teeth -- two top, two bottom. At any given moment he loves to break into this toothy goofy ear-to-ear grin to show off his latest achievement.
And now, it appears he likes to grind them together while trying to fall asleep.
Being a former hypochondriac, I would have rushed him off to ER after reading that one of the symptoms for baby teeth grinding is a sign of a parasite in their stomach!! But more commonly, and to my relief, it's an absolutely normal thing for babies to do when they first discover their teeth. (Check out one of the articles here)
Since I'm not usually in the room with him as he falls asleep I have no idea when this started or for how long it will go on. Most of the articles I read said it will subside within a few months. Or when he gets bored with it. Once the novelty has worn off.
I'm thankful that he wasn't swallowing nails tonight. And that most likely (in the name of Jesus) he doesn't have some 20 foot long worm in his tummy. But after hearing that grinding sound, I must admit those issues aren't much worse!
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Stuck In the Car Seat
Ever been stuck in the car seat?
I'm not talking about you being physically stuck in a real car seat or your baby. But I'm sure that would make for a very interesting story. Do tell!
I'm talking about the "proverbial" car seat of life.
When you're the baby and God is the mama driver.
Cub goes through different moments of car seat rebellion. Sometimes he's just fine with getting in the car seat, sometimes there's a big protest. We used to sing him a car seat song we made up, it goes like this:
I'm not talking about you being physically stuck in a real car seat or your baby. But I'm sure that would make for a very interesting story. Do tell!
I'm talking about the "proverbial" car seat of life.
When you're the baby and God is the mama driver.
Cub goes through different moments of car seat rebellion. Sometimes he's just fine with getting in the car seat, sometimes there's a big protest. We used to sing him a car seat song we made up, it goes like this:
Adventure chair,
Adventure chair
We go everywhere in the adventure chair
Adventure chair,
Adventure chair
Every---Where... (big long note) in the adventure chair!!!
Adventure chair
We go everywhere in the adventure chair
Adventure chair,
Adventure chair
Every---Where... (big long note) in the adventure chair!!!
That used to do the trick. Nowadays he's much too smart to fall for the song. But he'll acquiesce if he must. Perhaps I need to make up one for myself when I'm stuck back there.
We're stuck in the car seat when we're on a ride or journey in life and have no idea where God's taking us. Or we may know the destination, but aren't sure when we'll get there, how long it will take, if there will be traffic along the way, or God forbid an accident.
Like a baby stuck in a car seat, we feel confined! The straps are too tight. We're just subjected to wherever the driver's taking us. And sometimes it gets boring stuck in that chair! Sometimes it's uncomfortable! God may toss us a few toys to distract or sustain us during the ride or maybe even humor us with a little song, but there are moments where we don't want that dumb toy or song! We want to get out!
We may cry, kick our feet into the back seat, fuss and fight, but guess what? There's no getting out until we've arrived at the destination and until He comes to the back and unstaps us.
But guess what's even better? (I'm speaking this to myself as I share it with you guys) Just like Cub being frustrated with me about being stuck in the car seat, he's usually 99% of the time very happy when he finds out where we've arrived. It's almost always somewhere far better than where he was at before he got into the car seat.
I was thinking about how many times I've had to bear with Cub crying in the back seat because he didn't want to be in the car seat. Usually it's when he's tired and cranky. But sometimes because he's just discontent. During these times I try to softly talk to him and tell him how much happier he'll be once we get to the destination. He doesn't usually understand this. Nevertheless, I have to calmly take a deep breath and continue to drive, knowing that I know what's best in this moment.
Just like God. I don't know how many times I've cried out and made a big fuss while He's driving. It must be so exhausting to listen to, but He's so patient with me. He continues to drive, loving me through my tantrum, knowing that once I get there I'll be so much happier. Even if I don't understand it along the way.
We're stuck in the car seat when we're on a ride or journey in life and have no idea where God's taking us. Or we may know the destination, but aren't sure when we'll get there, how long it will take, if there will be traffic along the way, or God forbid an accident.
Like a baby stuck in a car seat, we feel confined! The straps are too tight. We're just subjected to wherever the driver's taking us. And sometimes it gets boring stuck in that chair! Sometimes it's uncomfortable! God may toss us a few toys to distract or sustain us during the ride or maybe even humor us with a little song, but there are moments where we don't want that dumb toy or song! We want to get out!
We may cry, kick our feet into the back seat, fuss and fight, but guess what? There's no getting out until we've arrived at the destination and until He comes to the back and unstaps us.
But guess what's even better? (I'm speaking this to myself as I share it with you guys) Just like Cub being frustrated with me about being stuck in the car seat, he's usually 99% of the time very happy when he finds out where we've arrived. It's almost always somewhere far better than where he was at before he got into the car seat.
I was thinking about how many times I've had to bear with Cub crying in the back seat because he didn't want to be in the car seat. Usually it's when he's tired and cranky. But sometimes because he's just discontent. During these times I try to softly talk to him and tell him how much happier he'll be once we get to the destination. He doesn't usually understand this. Nevertheless, I have to calmly take a deep breath and continue to drive, knowing that I know what's best in this moment.
Just like God. I don't know how many times I've cried out and made a big fuss while He's driving. It must be so exhausting to listen to, but He's so patient with me. He continues to drive, loving me through my tantrum, knowing that once I get there I'll be so much happier. Even if I don't understand it along the way.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
One
If but for one...
We were at the Zimmerman Children's Museum yesterday. Great little place. Cub had a ball.
Being that it is a Jewish Museum, there's lots of inspiring scripture and stations that represent Judaism. A wonderful environment for learning and fun.
As we were coming down the stairs, I read one of the quotes that said (and probably familiar to most of us),
We were at the Zimmerman Children's Museum yesterday. Great little place. Cub had a ball.
Being that it is a Jewish Museum, there's lots of inspiring scripture and stations that represent Judaism. A wonderful environment for learning and fun.
As we were coming down the stairs, I read one of the quotes that said (and probably familiar to most of us),
"No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted."
After reading it, I thought to myself, "That's nice." In a sort of condescending manner. Sounds good, right? Then I sort of chuckled to myself with a "But let's be real," attitude. I thought about all the scenarios where one could do an act of kindness for someone else and feel like it was a complete waste of time after that person took it for granted or was ungrateful.
Looking back, I gotta give myself a whack for having such a negative response. Because the truth is, if our hearts are in the right place, acts of kindness really are never wasted. No matter what the response from anybody else. Because just the act of extending ourselves is a blessing, even back to ourselves.
I was encouraged by one of my reader's this morning. I hope she's not embarrassed by me calling her out!
DB's Mama, has been so encouraging to me since I started this blog. Reading her periodic comments reminds me that there are people out there. There is an audience. Now I could just be pumping up my own ego, but I'd like to think that moreso I'm encouraged because I am putting myself out there, hoping that these words, no matter how big or small, are never wasted. That they have meaning. Even if it's to put a smirk on someone's face for that day. Even if there's only one reader!
What DB's Mama also reminded me in her simple role call response was that I don't have to "see" the audience to believe that these words are landing somewhere.
How many times in life when we do acts of kindness do we really have the opportunity to "see" the results? Maybe the immediate results. But we don't usually get to see the long-term. Yet the results live on beyond our sight.
So I want to encourage all of us today to continue to do acts of kindness just because.
And don't be afraid to put yourself out there even when it feels like no one's watching or paying attention. There's always someone. Even if it's just one. But guess what? That one can make all the difference. Thanks, DB's Mama!!
Here's another encouraging scripture that keeps me going,
So is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.
Isaiah 55:11
Looking back, I gotta give myself a whack for having such a negative response. Because the truth is, if our hearts are in the right place, acts of kindness really are never wasted. No matter what the response from anybody else. Because just the act of extending ourselves is a blessing, even back to ourselves.
I was encouraged by one of my reader's this morning. I hope she's not embarrassed by me calling her out!
DB's Mama, has been so encouraging to me since I started this blog. Reading her periodic comments reminds me that there are people out there. There is an audience. Now I could just be pumping up my own ego, but I'd like to think that moreso I'm encouraged because I am putting myself out there, hoping that these words, no matter how big or small, are never wasted. That they have meaning. Even if it's to put a smirk on someone's face for that day. Even if there's only one reader!
What DB's Mama also reminded me in her simple role call response was that I don't have to "see" the audience to believe that these words are landing somewhere.
How many times in life when we do acts of kindness do we really have the opportunity to "see" the results? Maybe the immediate results. But we don't usually get to see the long-term. Yet the results live on beyond our sight.
So I want to encourage all of us today to continue to do acts of kindness just because.
And don't be afraid to put yourself out there even when it feels like no one's watching or paying attention. There's always someone. Even if it's just one. But guess what? That one can make all the difference. Thanks, DB's Mama!!
Here's another encouraging scripture that keeps me going,
So is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.
Isaiah 55:11
Monday, October 5, 2009
Cub Hug
We move day to day like fall leaves scattering across busy sidewalks. We're in motion. Sometimes with purpose. Sometimes just floating. But on the go. It's called Motherhood, and even before we were blessed with such a title, it could be known as womanhood.
It's innate. To go. To keep moving. Even when every cell in our body is boycotting for us to be still.
Sometimes we just go because if we stop, we just might crumble. Or cry. Or stop forever. Or be completely puzzled by what to do with ourselves. So the appointments pile up. The meeting over here, play dates there, this errand and that one, push push pushing...
Then something extraordinary happens. Something so simple and lovely that forces us to stop and smile. Something so beautiful that only a moment can capture, too great for time.
I was driving all over the place. A to-do list of errands. Brushing past crowds of people, grabbing this off of that shelf and sliding my credit card here and there. Hopping in and out of my car. Watching the clock as if I actually could control time. And hurrying, because that's what I do.
When I finally got to the birthday party where I was headed, gift in hand, rushing because I was already late and Cub and my husband had been there for a while already, I opened the door and saw him. It was my boy. Cub. And he looked up at me with the biggest, happiest eyes, and my heart gushed. Not that it doesn't always flutter when he looks at me. But because amidst my goings and comings, moving through space and too focused to notice what's important in life, he stopped time. Made me inhale love and exhale all the nonsense and senseless stuff we often pile up in our minds.
Being a stay at home mom right now, Cub sees me every day. I know he loves and appreciates me. But because he sees me all the time, I don't get that same demonstrative welcome that daddy gets when he comes home from work. Legs kicking in the air, arms jolting up and down, etc. But that birthday party day, I got it. And it was everything I needed.
His little arms clung to my neck, legs wrapped around my waist like a koala bear, complete with a big slobbery teething bite on the cheek. And I was puddy in his little hands.
I gently folded up that moment, amidst the birthday party cheers and laughter, into the inner pockets of my heart and promised to keep it there forever.
It's innate. To go. To keep moving. Even when every cell in our body is boycotting for us to be still.
Sometimes we just go because if we stop, we just might crumble. Or cry. Or stop forever. Or be completely puzzled by what to do with ourselves. So the appointments pile up. The meeting over here, play dates there, this errand and that one, push push pushing...
Then something extraordinary happens. Something so simple and lovely that forces us to stop and smile. Something so beautiful that only a moment can capture, too great for time.
I was driving all over the place. A to-do list of errands. Brushing past crowds of people, grabbing this off of that shelf and sliding my credit card here and there. Hopping in and out of my car. Watching the clock as if I actually could control time. And hurrying, because that's what I do.
When I finally got to the birthday party where I was headed, gift in hand, rushing because I was already late and Cub and my husband had been there for a while already, I opened the door and saw him. It was my boy. Cub. And he looked up at me with the biggest, happiest eyes, and my heart gushed. Not that it doesn't always flutter when he looks at me. But because amidst my goings and comings, moving through space and too focused to notice what's important in life, he stopped time. Made me inhale love and exhale all the nonsense and senseless stuff we often pile up in our minds.
Being a stay at home mom right now, Cub sees me every day. I know he loves and appreciates me. But because he sees me all the time, I don't get that same demonstrative welcome that daddy gets when he comes home from work. Legs kicking in the air, arms jolting up and down, etc. But that birthday party day, I got it. And it was everything I needed.
His little arms clung to my neck, legs wrapped around my waist like a koala bear, complete with a big slobbery teething bite on the cheek. And I was puddy in his little hands.
I gently folded up that moment, amidst the birthday party cheers and laughter, into the inner pockets of my heart and promised to keep it there forever.
No Sex
Wow. Surprise discovery. I did the sex test to see if my readership would go up and when I checked it on google's analytics this morning, it actually went plummeting! Which is quite surprising but also a relief. I've never had a big fat goose egg for my readership until now. Yep, I had "0" readers after posting the sex tirade. I find this a sign of encouragment to stick to what I know, haha, Cub and me!
So dear readers, we will continue to share our little world and hope you continue to get something out of it!
Please do holler if you're out there. It's been so quiet lately!!
Role call?!!!
So dear readers, we will continue to share our little world and hope you continue to get something out of it!
Please do holler if you're out there. It's been so quiet lately!!
Role call?!!!
Saturday, October 3, 2009
SEX!!
SexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSex
SexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSex
SexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSex
This is a test. It's only a test. A sex test. A sexy sex test.
A sexy sexy sex test to see if if people want to read about sex.
Ever tried saying "sex" really fast a bunch of times? Try it:
SexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSex!!
Does sex get more readers?
sex words:
sextuplets
sexual
sexy
sexier
sex
more sex
sexy sex
big fat sex.
big fat man having yucky sex.
Are you laughing yet?
pregnant sex
postpartum sex
bored sex
fun sex
married sex
missionary sex
maintenance sex
tired sex
adventurous sex
crazy sex
quick sex
exotic sex
what the??? sex
ridiculous sex
insecure sex
needy sex
mind-blowing sex
pretentious sex
sweatin out the perm sex
nerd sex
birthday sex
birthday suit sex
over the hill sex
who cares sex
Doesn't SEX look funny when seeing sex written all over the place? Like some weird computer code language. Maybe it is!
Are you over SEXed now?
Thanks for reading this SEX tirade.
Please enjoy sex responsibly.
In your own home. (or wherever else you have sex)
With your own sexy husband.
SexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSex
SexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSex
This is a test. It's only a test. A sex test. A sexy sex test.
A sexy sexy sex test to see if if people want to read about sex.
Ever tried saying "sex" really fast a bunch of times? Try it:
SexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSex!!
Does sex get more readers?
sex words:
sextuplets
sexual
sexy
sexier
sex
more sex
sexy sex
big fat sex.
big fat man having yucky sex.
Are you laughing yet?
pregnant sex
postpartum sex
bored sex
fun sex
married sex
missionary sex
maintenance sex
tired sex
adventurous sex
crazy sex
quick sex
exotic sex
what the??? sex
ridiculous sex
insecure sex
needy sex
mind-blowing sex
pretentious sex
sweatin out the perm sex
nerd sex
birthday sex
birthday suit sex
over the hill sex
who cares sex
Doesn't SEX look funny when seeing sex written all over the place? Like some weird computer code language. Maybe it is!
Are you over SEXed now?
Thanks for reading this SEX tirade.
Please enjoy sex responsibly.
In your own home. (or wherever else you have sex)
With your own sexy husband.
Hush Hush
The baby knack readership has been very quiet lately. I'm lead to wonder are the latest articles too dull, unrelatable, lacking pizazz, or should I stop being so self-conscious and assume that folk are just busy?! They got lives!
Talk to me...
I'm listening.
Talk to me...
I'm listening.
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