Holiday Roller coaster

I think for almost everyone, the holidays are an unbelievable roller coaster.

... up... - the baby is so joyful, she's opening her presents, I love life!

...down... - the snow is keeping us from driving to DC, I'm missing cousins and aunts assembled from across the country and they are missing the baby's first Christmas. (And her babyhood, since there is no financial way that I can visit all four states: CA, AZ, MI, and VA for the cost of a drive down to DC. It seems the irony of my life right now - all the time in the world and not the money to take advantage of it). In general, I kind of hate this modern world where friends and family are scattered. The people I love the most, that I want Emmah to see regularly, live in: GA, MA, NY, ME, IL, MI, AZ, CA, MD, VA,and other assorted places. She's already a seasoned traveler because of it, but I just wish they all lived less than an hour or two away. I miss them (alot of you read this blog... I miss you).

...up...- super sleep over and visit with friends, interview next week, and a fun visit to the city!


...down...- trip to the city ending in minor traffic accident, sore body, tired spirit.

So as I head into this new year, I'm going to try to ride along without feeling the push-pull of it all so much. I would like a bit more even keel, regardless of whether I meet my goals or not. I'd like us all to be healthy and happy and sane.

(Sorry for the blurry camera-phone photos, but I think the fun and laughter find their way through.)

Joy to the World

Tonight despite the wicked wind, we went to see the lights at the local park. The baby laughed and screamed in delight - at the wind in her face, the lights, the characters and the flags waving wildly at every turn.

It was a better reaction than one could dream of. Pure Joy.

I am so grateful.

Somewhere there is someone that is twisted in knots of anxiety. That is barely making it through. Hold on. Share some of my joy - I'm sending it to you now. Know that you too can have happiness. Take it one tiny tiny step at a time, be patient, work hard, and get here.

And when you do. Let the past go. Enjoy this moment. Drink it up and savor it.

Images of life with an 8 month old:

- You like to loll in bed with me. You act like you want to sit up, but when I start to help you, you laugh and throw yourself back down, laughing.

- When you are falling asleep, your fingers float up and hover over my lips - like the softest of butterflies.

- When we are reading bedtimes stories, I start with you facing me so I can see your expressions, but then you start to get sleepy, so I turn you to sit on my lap. You lean back into me and your head fits perfectly in the crook under my chin. Your hair is so downy soft.

- You are trying so hard to talk. You try to mimic the words we say. Sometimes you are successful, sometimes it is all jumbled and guttural. But sometimes it sounds crystal clear. Words you can mimic: book, bye, hi, beakus (don't ask, its a kenyan thing) and you are trying hard to figure out chakula (food) and maziwa (milk) - If I ask you if you want those things, you smile.

Special Day.

March, four years ago.

I was from the gym, he was from work. Neither of us knew why we decided to go to that bookstore on that day.

But today, we took the baby there. To show her where we met. We went to the spot, took a few photos, bought her some books, and went on our way.

That was a special day. Kismet.

Today was a special day. I looked into his eyes as we were leaving and thanked him. Thinking of our life and our little family had me welling with tears. He made fun and I loved him for it. He makes life light. He makes the hardest burdens seem light and I love him for it.

Three things to never talk about:

There are three things that I would advise any new mom NEVER to discuss in a public forum:

1) Breastfeeding

2) Sleep training/Co-sleeping

3) Returning to work/becoming a stay-at-home mom

I am continually surprised at how quickly things can get very tense when you choose to talk about one of these issues. People can get very dogmatic and/or defensive VERY quickly.

I'm not lying to you. When I called my sister to tell her I was pregnant, she asked me questions about how I was going to deal with two out of three of the above subject matters. (If you're reading this dear sister, I love you, but you totally did!) How was I supposed to answer, I was about 10 minutes pregnant!?!

So, for each of these, I have taken a "let's try one way that seems best and see" approach and then a clear decision about what was ACTUALLY best for that moment became clear - either reinforcing the original idea or in reaction to it.

Notice how I'm not actually saying what I did? How I'm not committing to talking about any of it here - even after 8 months? Well, that's how scared I am of the criticism that I encounter everywhere - mommy blogs, message boards, strangers at events, friends, family, dentists, hairdressers. Everywhere.

I made a slip today, talking about one of these issues on Facebook. (I totally forgot that when you respond to a note that everyone on the note can see it.) It wasn't bad, but I will NOT be lured into a false sense of security. I would love to talk about some of this, particularly my breastfeeding story, but I simply cannot take the chance that I will open myself up to more stress than I already have. And these things are so very personal. As personal as my relationship with my child. As intimate as my relationship with my child. And I have yet to encounter anything more personal and intimate than that - or anything that means as much to me, and that I take as seriously.

Period, end of story.

Now, if you are someone that knows about these topics in my life, then chances are I love and adore and very much trust you. If you are considering having a child and would like to know how I handled these issues, I would be happy to share my story with you - over a cup of tea, with a signed confidentiality agreement in hand.

8 months old today

Things I want to remember:
First, what a sweet baby you are. Cuddly. Soft.

You smile easily. You have four hundred different eyebrow expressions.


You are so feisty and opinionated. You screech and scream to get your way. You are so smart. You can say "hi" in almost the exact intonation that I use.

You can point to things in books. You have favorite books, favorite songs, favorite people. And you teach yourself to do something, and then you can do it quickly. For weeks, you were not interested in puffs, preferring crackers. Then you finally got ahold of one, and were able to get it to your mouth. The next day you did it over and over again. Now only a bit more than a week later, I have to watch you don't go for a handful.

Crawling and walking are your next big hurtles. You can scoot about, commando style, turning like the hands of a clock. You can pull yourself up, reach for something with your hands, then take small steps toward it.

And you are SO proud of yourself. And I am proud of you.

Progress

Sleeping with mouth closed. We may just survive after all.

The Worst of it.

I got my daughter sick. A sick baby is the saddest, scariest thing ever. See little babies are obligate nose breathers, so when they cannot breathe through their noses, they think they cannot breathe.

Also they cannot nurse.

Combine those two things and what you have is a mom that just spent the last two nights trying to get a panicked baby to relax and realize she can still breathe. And that she will not die if she cannot nurse herself to sleep.

I've sucked her nose, squirted her with saline, communed with her in the bathroom with the shower running, held her, cuddled her, sung until I'm hoarse.

And she's not better yet.

She's still screaming. That has been her main way to communicate this intense discomfort - a high pitched, rock your eardrums kind of scream. It's maddening.

I've also realized that at 2 in the morning, when my husband is at work, when I'm spent and tired and cannot do it anymore, when the baby is scared and screaming and cannot sleep because she is so uncomfortable and when I have tried everything that I can think of. Those are the loneliest moments of my life. Lonelier than all my teen years put together, an isolation and a feeling of helplessness that I would not wish on my worst enemy.

And even if there was someone to call - a sick baby only wants its mother. There you go, an interdependence that there is no solution for. A relationship that for better or worse is the definition of closeness. Irreplaceable. And for those that have lost that relationship, it is wounding. Unhealable. I have watched it too many times - that loss.

So as I head into my birthday tomorrow, everything that I'd been hoping for has changed. I don't care about time to myself. I just want a healthy baby. I just want to not see that wild-eyed look again anytime soon.

And I want my mommy.

Forgotten.

I've been sick this week, and so I have been procrastinating things that I want to do until I'm "better."

But I realized at some point today that I've been procrastinating these same things for months, years, and sometimes decades. Because they are the same things that I always procrastinate: 1) working out, 2) finding time to take care of financial planning stuff, 3) figuring out how to get stuff done without asking anyone for help.

So just for one week, I'm going to try not to procrastinate any of this stuff. Here is my "To Do" list for the week:
- workout every weekday morning (just for 10 minutes, c'mon, I can do that.)
- chain my husband to the table for 20 minutes and get our life insurance scenario figured out and signed up for.
- figure out a babysitter for a few hours next week so I can honor my promise to my old job to help out with two last things. (And then not make any more promises that will cost me money when I am not making any!)
- write another short story.
- do one thing for myself, BY MYSELF, in honor of my birthday. I feel like I am in danger of becoming one of those overweight, miserable women who don't even brush their hair because it seems too much effort in the monotonous chaos of their lives. I know we are saving every cent, but I really want to preserve any shred of confidence and identity I can.

I know this is a bit whiny, but it's the necessary self-kick in the butt that I need. And I need to document it.

Oh, and I totally missed this little blog's birthday - four years old! I really have to decide it's future direction. Any feedback would be great - since I'm not really sure it's as high up on my priorities list as it once was.

Love

Lying in bed, our feet were intertwined.

Our arms were outstretched, with hands touching shoulders.

The baby was between us, nursing, but with her feet tucked up under her father.

From above, we were all the shape of a heart, with Cupid's arrow running through us.

My friend's dream...

HowDoYouMountain - Your Mountain - HowDoYouMountain

My friend Nicole wants to go and blog and work for this fantastic place... this is her application video. Please vote for her!

She is the hot one in orange - "Nicole- the ultimate mountain enthusiast"

Various Photos

This is from our trip to Georgia to see my dear parents, sister and my niece and nephew. That's my niece sitting pretty next to us.

It was such a fun trip. I love watching my parents being grandparents.

This was from storytime tonight. I wanted to take a picture of the baby in her pajamas to send to my aunt. But we also splurged and bought three new books today - (Shh! Don't tell daddy, we're on a budget and were supposed to go to the library) but look at that face - and $3 books for $20, what a bargain.

We bought one of my favorites from childhood - Snowy Day by Ezra Keats. And we also got We're Going on a Bear Hunt - which I want to memorize for car rides and a bedtime book that is simple, but with great illustrations and good tone - you can gradually get to a whisper, and that is Emmah favorite thing at bedtime.

These are the outtakes from our Halloween photo shoot for Facebook. The combination of Daddy's arm and the barcode on the ball made this one a reject, but I love how happy she is in it.

And Mr. T. Who doesn't love a beautiful baby girl dressed up as Mr. T - I pity the fool.

So I am supposed to write a novel this month. It's nano-writing month. Talk to me December 1st and we'll see.

Good morning!

Sh*t Storm

It was raining all day.

We missed our playdate due to illness.

Charles' uncle passed away suddenly.

Then shortly after he went to work, the baby had one of those epic movements that soils everything - the outfit, the carseat, me, my purse, the changing pad, everything. I had poo on my shoulder.

How does one get poo on their shoulder?

So then I spent the rest of the night walking back and forth with the baby to and from the laundromat. Because of course I couldn't use the carseat until I cleaned the cover.

Now it's nearly 9pm, I haven't eaten since noon, I have laundry to fold. And Charles doesn't come home until this time tomorrow night.

Ugh.

I think she'll keep me around...

A photo of cousins:

Baby 1:
"Um, excuse me, there is a stick poking me."

Baby 2:
"A stick! Hand it over, that sounds delicious."

The only Toy you need:

Striped socks.

(Sorry for the blurry photo. Camera batteries are dead and my cell phone does not account for the frentic movements of a 6 month old)

The way a 6-month old thinks in the middle of the night.

Ohhhhhh, noooooo, I'm awake!!!!! WAAAAAHHHHHHHH

Hey, there's Mom, Hi Mom (smile)

Mmm, I'm hungry, I want to nurse.

Oh, there's a light on in the hallway.

I can see myself in the mirror.

I like the strap on mommy's nightgown.

I want to nurse.

Oh there's a blanket on my legs.

I want to kick the blanket off.

I want to nurse.

This blanket feels good. What an interesting texture.

It looks delicious, I want to eat it.

My toes are delicious and are under the blanket.

I want to eat both at the same time.

I want to nurse.

I can see myself in the mirror.

If I arch my back, I can see behind me.

Oooooh, is that wicker?

I want to nurse.

Mommy is soft. I should stroke her.

Yay~! I can touch her hair.

I want to eat her hair, maybe I can pull it to my mouth.

I want to nurse.

I'm tired.

I can see myself in the mirror.

I want to nurse.

I'm very tired.

Half Birthday

October 13, 2010 - Baby Emmah is six months old!

Things I want to remember:
- How you have become like a cartoon character baby, laughing and laughing, but also violently pooping and vomiting at random and shocking moments.
- Speaking of pooping, now that you're eating solids, things are more difficult. You look up at me like, "Mom, help!" And I just say, "You're okay, you can do it!" It's our little thing. And I am happy to support you in whatever way you need me. Oh, but I will laugh when you fart at interesting or embarrassing times!
- How when you are in bed with both of us, you will stretch your arms straight out so that you can have one hand on mom and one had on dad.
- Speaking of Dad. Gosh, what a lovefest. You have a relationship that does not include me, and I LOVE that. And luckily you both love me, so I'm never far away.
- You are sitting and it's wonderful. Today at the library, I plopped you down on the carpet, went and got some books and then came back to read them to you. So much easier than trying to lean over while holding you to sort through the bins of board books. And infinitely easier than juggling an armful of books and more than an armful of baby at the same time.
- In fact holding you and doing other things has become much more challenging now that you can grab things lightning fast. Where do they end up. Your mouth. Time to babyproof!

- How you "get" it now. You want to eat when we are eating. You see your toys and you want to play with them. You are focused on whatever we are focused on. Good and Bad. So you have an obsession with the remote, our phones, and the computer. Of course you do, those are the three things that distract us away from you most frequently. When I see this, it makes me turn them off and play with you.
- I LOVE to dress you up. But I really don't care for always making you "a princess" or some other uber-feminine gender stereotype, and so people often say how handsome my son is. Or things like "wow, he's gonna be a flirt and a heartbreaker." Because you are beautiful, regardless of race or gender. I get a little too much into the theme of the activity - overalls for the farm fair, all black for when your goth cousin came for a visit, etc.

- Sleep is still our biggest obsession. Although on our trip to Maine I discovered you sleep easily through the night when in bed with me. Slowly, we're getting you back into your crib, but its hard on both of us, because you are so snuggly and warm when you are right there an inch away.
- You are such a love. As long as you are not bored, hungry or tired, you are a dream baby - SO fun. I love to snuggle with you, love to make you laugh, and love that we are spending our lives together.

Perfect night for a walk...

Hitting the Wall:

from Wikipedia:
In endurance sports, particularly cycling and running, hitting the wall or the bonk describes a condition caused by the depletion of glycogen stores in the liver and muscles, which manifests itself by precipitous fatigue and loss of energy. Milder instances can be remedied by brief rest and the ingestion of food or drinks containing carbohydrates. The condition can usually be avoided by ensuring that glycogen levels are high when the exercise begins, maintaining glycogen levels during exercise by eating or drinking carbohydrate-rich substances, or by reducing exercise intensity.

Last night, my sweet darling decided not to sleep between the hours of 1am and 4am. At 3am, I hit the wall. I was at a loss. I felt so alone, so tired, so frustrated. I didn't know what to do. Finally I called my husband. He said "Cuddle her, she will sleep."

I was mad that his solution was so simple, but I took a deep breath and did just that, and she started to relax and then she slept. Well we slept together in the bed for another 4 hours.

I was still a mess in the morning, but better.

I swore I would not be an AP kind of parent, but I totally am.

On a lighter note... this helped me crack a smile...

Ah Maine...

What a trip! My aunt and uncle could not have been more gracious about my sweet thing and I decending upon them. They were so generous with time and spirit and came up with lots of fun things for us to do.

Like hiking in the woods.

And going to the Common Ground Fair.


And teaching us new songs:


and...

Traveling Fools

Tomorrow is the big day. That massive list is now divided between one bag to check and one backpack to carry.

Backpack on back. Girlpack on front.

Wish me luck!

(Maybe I wouldn't be so nervous if I weren't about to schlep this heavy, but sweet thing at naptime. Here's hoping white noise does it's thing!)

Just a simple list...

Packing List: Maine Trip
8 days, 7 nights

Clothing, me
 Underwear
 Bras
 Nursing tanks
 Pajamas
 Pants
 Sweaters
 Dresses
 Socks
 Tennis shoes
 2 pairs of flip flops

Entertainment, me
 Notebook
 Baby books
 Magazines

Toiletries, me
 Shampoo/conditioner
 Face soap
 Comb
 Hair stuff
 Razor
 Tweezers
 Lotion
 Selected makeup
 Necklace
 Toothbrush
 Toothpaste

Clothing, Baby
 Socks
 Tights
 Pants
 Short sleeved Onesies
 Long sleeved Onesies
 Hats
 Shoes
 Dresses
 Sleep sack
 Sweaters

Misc, baby
 Diapers
 Bottles
 Pads
 Changing pad
 Thermometer
 Lotion
 Aquaphor
 Car seat
 Blankets
 Towels
 Washcloths
 Bibs
 Jars of baby food
 Bottle brush?
 Nosefrida?
 Mapap? (Tylenol)??
 Baby Bjorn
 Baby Mei Tai
 Nail clippers
 Bowls
 spoons

Entertainment, Baby
 Books
o Gnt moon
o Catapillar
o Polar bear
o Brown bear
o Are you my
o Going to bed book
o Mr. brown can
o Going on safari

 Toys
o One cube
o Both twiggas (that means giraffe in swahili)
o New beaver
o Mirror rattle
o Jingle samba

Ordinary People

Oh John Legend, I know you are not talking about being a mom, but gosh this morning it feels like it!


So today, I'm gonna take it slow.

Off.

This whole day has been just a little off.

Not catastrophic by any means, just off.

Like poop on the sofa, baby drool in your mouth kind of day.

Take for example this lovely photo of my dear sweet girl being hoisted in the air by her father:


Not only did this result in squeals of utter joy, but also in some drool getting in my husband's nose. See the velocity of the drool from that height when combined with the momentum created by the hoisting motion increased the acceleration, and when one takes into account the change in angle of my husband's face to accommodate both the increased exertion and the desired eye contact with the infant, well... there you go.

And as an added bonus, I was able to capture that lovely patch of our ceiling that has water damage... gosh, am I ever grateful that I now have a picture of that!

Five Months Old Today...

Things I want to remember:
- How sweet you are. I know you are really awake these days because you smile broadly at me when you see me coming. If I say "hug me!" you will snuggle into me and lay your head on my shoulder.
- How your eyes light up when you see your boyfriend in the kitchen. You smile and sometimes squeal. Your boyfriend, the little animated guy on the Frosted Mini-Wheat box.
- How big you are getting. I know when I look back on these photos I will forget how big you seemed. But now when you lay next to me in bed, your body goes from my shoulder down to my knees. I have to remind myself you are still a baby.
- How sometimes it seems that you are still a part of me. How at 3am, when you have fallen back asleep on my shoulder, how the weight of you melds into me, making it seem like we are still one.

Enjoying the Moment.

Sleep is my biggest obsession right now.

I want to be able to put her down to sleep, once, and have her sleep until she is not tired anymore. And I would like to do it with no tears. Magically. Starting tonight.

Deciding my plan of attack and implementing it on my own are daunting. But my husband's overnight shift and schoolwork make it such that asking him to focus time and energy on my obsession is unreasonable.

But today, I witnessed this:

At first, I thought, "Oh, she should sleep in her crib!" "What precedent is this setting? Will she always want to nap on me?!?"

But then I thought about it. This man loves this girl. Let them snuggle. Let them enjoy this moment together.

How many times do we rush through things, anxious for the next? How often do we miss something magical and fulfilling in pursuit of some ideal of perfection that may not even exist?

So today, I vow to snuggle. Regardless of consequence.


Oh and my baby is so sitting quite well these days. Still in need of a catcher, but soooo close to independence!

Welcome Back, Craige.

We missed you!

Bionic Baby

It's happening. We are creating the child that we always dreamed of. Now I am certain there will be times in her life where we wonder where she came up with things, wonder why she is the way she is, and wonder what we did wrong, but for now, it's so nice to see that she loves things that we love.

For example, she loves to drum with her dad.

The other day he came up behind me as I was feeding her some pears and started to use my shoulders as a drum. She started to laugh and move her hands... trying hard to imitate him. It was precious.

She's a thrill-seeker:

Whatever new thing she learns, she wants to be doing it. If she can sit, she wants to sit, even better if she can stand or see someone new. Or teeter on daddy's shoulders, dance with mommy, or explore a new place.

She loves the outdoors:

Look at those eyes. We take a walk at least once a day. The look of wonder is nearly always there. She loves the sky, the trees, the flowers, the animals, and the people we encounter. She's a nature-lover. (Nice shot of me enjoying a potato chip, eh?)

She loves to read:

The love of books is one that lives in every cell of my family. My books are my friends. They represent my whole life. I have enjoyed introducing her to some of my old friends. Not all of her favorites are my favorites, but when I start reciting one she likes from memory, she stops and stares at me, perhaps wondering where the book is. And if you show her the book, she lunges at it with the same hunger as her food.

Oh, and boy does she love to eat:

Here she is in her new high-chair. A new place of joy and satisfaction. And frustration if we are too slow in spooning it out to her.

I am thrilled with the person she is becoming. And she is leaving the lumpness of babyhood behind, becoming a sentient being with things to learn, relationships to develop, and a whole world to change.

What Not To Wear.

If you are chubby, there are things that are difficult to pull off, no matter how hard you try... these are tough looks to pull off.

Skull caps in colors that wash out your skin tone:


Leg warmers:

You are not a dancer yet, baby. Oh, and note the socks are too small. But they did not fall off!

Horizontal stripes:


All of the above together:


Yes, we went for a walk this way. She got quite the looks.

And so it begins...

Today was the long awaited day. My husband started classes yesterday, and today was our first full day without him. We said goodnight and goodbye to him Monday and we'll see him for a few hours Wednesday. 36 long hours without the man of the house.

In an effort to start the day off on a positive note, we took a walk.

Somewhere along the way, we stopped to see this:

I was so excited to show it to the baby, because the last page of one of her favorite books (The Very Hungry Caterpillar) is, of course, "And he was a beautiful butterfly!" So seeing such a beautiful specimen up close and personal felt very special.

We continued walking, and while looking in a shop window, I realized something...

No socks! She had them on when we left the house.

And so the GREAT SOCK HUNT of 2010 began.

We began to retrace our steps. We asked a kind woman with a dog if she had seen any baby socks, (Thinking of course that a good bloodhound would not let something as smell-er-ific as baby socks pass him by.) and she said "No." So I said, "Oh, we are hunting for them." She gave me an odd look and said "Sounds fun, good luck." (Apparently, the dog was not a bloodhound, but some kind of beagle.)

We had a few false starts, leaves that looked like socks from far away...

Other baby paraphernalia that clearly did not belong to us.

It was a long walk back the way we came, but we continued on, and a few blocks up, we had our first break in the case:

We walked and walked and walked. Scanning the sidewalks, the grass on either side, trying to remember the exact walkways we used.

We were losing steam and losing hope. What does one do when there is only one of a pair? A question of great magnitude on a day such as this.

Finally, just two doors down from home, we happened upon this little guy:

Don't smirk like that at me, young man, do you know what you put us through?

The great sock hunt was finally over, we were home, completely outfitted again.

But the whole thing was clearly exhausting for poor baby.


I understand, it takes a lot of energy when you are missing things.

To sleep, perchance to dream...

I woke up from a nightmare around 4:30 this morning.

That's right... I was dreaming.

The average body needs between 70 and 90 minutes to hit REM sleep and begin dreaming. If your baby wakes up every two hours, takes 15 - 20 minutes to put back down, then even if you have the fortune of falling asleep again immediately, you still don't have enough time to start dreaming before the little darling wakes up again.

Ah, but by some voodoo magic, my sweet girl slept through the night last night. 9pm to 5am. I slept from 9:30 to 4:30... count them... that's seven beautiful, uninterrupted hours of sleep.

Thank you baby, I needed that.

Now, what do you think I dreamt about? Babies? Sleeping? Not working?

No, I was embroiled in a thriller, where a group of tourists were being held captive by a psychotic sex fiend, and I was the only one that could save them. Apparently, I used to date him, so I had insider information~!

Oh subconscious, you really want my life to be much more interesting, don't you?

Now, when you are used to nursing every two hours and then you go seven, it is not so comfortable when you wake up. The baby might have slept longer if I wasn't pacing back and forth in front of her crib watching and waiting for her to help me out.


Stop reading now if you you are considering hiring me for a job, used to work with me, would like to someday work with me, like to think of me in a very professional way, or just don't want too much information about nursing.

But for those of you that are wondering, "What does it feel like when you are used to nursing every two hours and then you go seven?" Well, it's not unlike someone that might choose to have two bags of marbles permanently attached to their chest. Perhaps that look will become a new trend in plastic surgery?

There you go. TMI.

We all need a little help from our friends.

Friday night, for the first time since the baby was born, Charles got to go out with his brother and a friend for their Friday night drink. It used to be a tradition, and the baby has seriously distracted him away from it.

I was happy he was doing something for himself. And so insanely jealous that I nearly had a nervous breakdown.

I have more than my fair share of anxiety these days: a husband with two full-time jobs and full time school, the hasty departure from a career I adored, gobs of time alone with a 4-month old and not enough happy-go-lucky songs in my song repertoire.

Fast forward to Saturday morning, Charles came home from his overnight job and I handed him the baby. No shower, no tea... just handed him the baby and headed for the bed. I slept and cried for a good portion of the morning. Finally, one of my closest friends called and I got to talk to someone and figure out what was going on. She and I figured out some things for me to consider doing to stay sane once Charles goes back to work tomorrow and school next Monday. Things that might help me feel less alone and more connected, and maybe find an endorphin or two in the cobwebs of my body.

Shortly after talking to her, I went onto Facebook and another friend of mine had raised an "S.O.S" flag. She has just given birth to her second son (on Wednesday night) and her husband needs to go back to work on Monday. Thinking of her floundering in the same way that I did when our baby was a week or so old was enough for me to snap out of my funk. (And thinking of how she called me to check in when Emmah was 6 days old and then came running over when I threw up a similar s.o.s. - she helped me so much that day, that I felt like I could breathe again) I went over today and she is actually doing great. I'll stop by a few times this week to check on her and bring some things.



But it has made me remember two things:
1) I am lucky, and I have a ton of adoring friends that have helped me so much in the last 4 months. I am so grateful to them. Moms and non-moms that check in with me, come over and hold that cute little thing. They have driven me places. They have cooked and cleaned for me. They have taken me out to dinner, made me dinner, and brought me dinner. And they continue to give me help and support whenever this endeavor gets overwhelming. And it gets OVERWHELMING.

and 2) That sometimes, we need to move outside of what WE need to help other people. Even when you feel like the world owes you something or that your burden is unbearable, someone else needs you. And maybe that little thing that you figure out to give... that small gesture... maybe it means the world to them in that moment. Maybe it gets them through.

So thank you, to all my friends, for giving me those moments, hours, and days of your time. They have gotten me through, they have gotten me this far, and I feel confident we can get through this next crazy hump with all of you to keep us happy, laughing, and entertained.





This is, of course, just a few of the all-stars, I could not be doing any this without my wonderful family and all my wonderful friends.