I generally try to keep the mushy gushy "I love my baby and motherhood" stuff to myself, for a couple of reasons. One, I'm typically a very quiet, keep to myself kind of person anyway and I have a hard time expressing my emotions (vocally, anyways). Two, I've been on the other side of the fence and when you don't have kids, listening to other people talk about their oh-so-wonderful children is like, the worst thing ever. So, why bother, right? WRONG!
I've decided that I will write about the mushy gushy "I love my baby and motherhood" stuff in this blog post and maybe blog posts in the future. In the words of Buddy the Elf, "I'm in love, I'm in love and I don't care who knows it!" So, why the sudden change of heart? Simple, I want to look back and remember how I felt at this time in my life. Plus, when Parker is a teenager and throws out the "you hate me and want to ruin my life" BS, I can pull out this blog and say "See? Look how much I love you!" Now onto the declaration of my love...
I love this kid. I mean I really really really love this kid. I know every mom says this and I'm sure we all love our children equally, but sometimes, I swear I MUST love this boy more than anyone in the entire world has ever loved another living thing. He's the sweetest, smartest, most adorable boy. Really, he is.
I could (probably should) stop here, but I think I'll go on... in staying true to my anal retentive self... I've compiled a list. Here are some things that I never really felt before motherhood came knocking on my door:
Responsibility - not only for the life I brought into this world, but responsible for every abandoned, neglected, starving child in the world. To know there are babies in this world that aren't loved as much as Parker is loved, breaks my heart.
Worry/Pain - I've heard the cliche "love hurts" (usually as the chorus to an 80's rock song), but this is different. It hurts because if I think about my love for him too much, I become terrified of the possibility that it could all be taken away from me. Then, I start thinking about all the things that could happen and wind up a pile of tears on the bedroom floor. Nick can attest to this, it's happened... several times. I'm not sure if this is normal behavior or if motherhood has taken my mild anxiety and turned me into an extremist??
Empathy - empathy for the moms who live through these unthinkables that keep me awake, worrying, at night.
Joy - the first time your child reaches his arms out to you/giggles/gives kisses [insert milestone] makes your heart feel so enormous that it just might burst.
Love - don't get me wrong, I love Nick with all my heart and soul, but the first time Parker was placed into my arms was the first time I ever felt that I could not exist without this other person.
Ok, I'm stopping. I seriously doubt anyone is still reading this, but just in case, I'll conclude with this--I adore this child.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Friday, August 6, 2010
Enough is Enough... Again
Okay, going to try this blogging thing again. My new goal is 2 blogs per week, so we'll see how long that lasts.
I'm gonna give it a week.
:)
I'm gonna give it a week.
:)
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
I'm alive!
I’d been dreading it for weeks. Nick’s birthday. See, Nick knows to ask me for something he wants during the busiest part of my day because I’ll shrug him off with a “Yea. Sure. Whatever.” This is how I agreed to not only go to an ACDC concert, but to stay at a hotel, AWAY FROM MY BABY, overnight. So, the day had arrived and after some excruciating anxiety (on my end) and much anticipation (on Nick’s end) we said goodbye to our seemingly unaware baby boy and Nick dragged me out for our first overnight trip in a year and a half. The trip to Kansas City consisted of me biting my nails and texting my mom (who just so happened to be babysitting P), while Nick, completely oblivious to my internal meltdown, jammed out to the latest ACDC record in a last minute effort ensure he knew EVERY SINGLE ACDC SONG EVER, which I’m certain he already did.
So, we arrive at the hotel and check in, and I go put on my rockstar outfit. Yes, of course I have a rockstar outfit. We’re a few minutes early, so we head over to the power and light district. Nick gets us a couple of beers and we settle in to watch KCDC (which isn’t a typo, but a cover band). The sun is still shining and it’s the perfect evening. A couple swigs of beer and the shrill of an electric guitar and just like that I feel my shoulders sinking, my jaw unclenching and my nails escaping my mouth. I look over at Nick and felt like it was the first time I’d seen him in years. We weren’t strangers passing each other in the hallway, rushing out the door. We weren’t talking about babies, bills or budgets. It was just us again. I had forgotten how much I missed our time together.
Seven-thirty rolls around and we head over to the concert. After fighting our way through the crowd and climbing over the unsteady seats, we settle in. The show starts. It’s amazing. Angus Young is especially amazing. Not for his obviously insane talent with a guitar, but the sheer satisfactory look on his face when he was performing. You could tell there was nowhere he’d rather be then right there on that stage. That was incredibly inspiring to me. We rocked out to every song (good thing we had our refresher in the car), we laughed, we drank, we had a great time. First overnight trip away from Parker Lee – successful.
Although it made for a slightly more sluggish Monday, our night on the town was refreshing and wonderful. And it leads me to believe that maybe, after all the baby stuff, work stuff, house stuff, and so on, maybe there is still room for me to be me. I thought I’d lost myself in all my newfound responsibilities and I thought that was acceptable. I always tell Nick “that girl is gone,” when he refers to “the old me.” But, this little trip made me realize that maybe she doesn’t have to go away. I always hoped that my kids would see me as more than “just a mom,” so I’m not sure at what point I deemed it acceptable to, putting it bluntly, be lame. All I know is that I’m forever grateful to have a husband that not only remembers that save-the-dolphins-gonna-be-famous-someday-free-love-hippie girl, but forces me to keep her alive.
So, we arrive at the hotel and check in, and I go put on my rockstar outfit. Yes, of course I have a rockstar outfit. We’re a few minutes early, so we head over to the power and light district. Nick gets us a couple of beers and we settle in to watch KCDC (which isn’t a typo, but a cover band). The sun is still shining and it’s the perfect evening. A couple swigs of beer and the shrill of an electric guitar and just like that I feel my shoulders sinking, my jaw unclenching and my nails escaping my mouth. I look over at Nick and felt like it was the first time I’d seen him in years. We weren’t strangers passing each other in the hallway, rushing out the door. We weren’t talking about babies, bills or budgets. It was just us again. I had forgotten how much I missed our time together.
Seven-thirty rolls around and we head over to the concert. After fighting our way through the crowd and climbing over the unsteady seats, we settle in. The show starts. It’s amazing. Angus Young is especially amazing. Not for his obviously insane talent with a guitar, but the sheer satisfactory look on his face when he was performing. You could tell there was nowhere he’d rather be then right there on that stage. That was incredibly inspiring to me. We rocked out to every song (good thing we had our refresher in the car), we laughed, we drank, we had a great time. First overnight trip away from Parker Lee – successful.
Although it made for a slightly more sluggish Monday, our night on the town was refreshing and wonderful. And it leads me to believe that maybe, after all the baby stuff, work stuff, house stuff, and so on, maybe there is still room for me to be me. I thought I’d lost myself in all my newfound responsibilities and I thought that was acceptable. I always tell Nick “that girl is gone,” when he refers to “the old me.” But, this little trip made me realize that maybe she doesn’t have to go away. I always hoped that my kids would see me as more than “just a mom,” so I’m not sure at what point I deemed it acceptable to, putting it bluntly, be lame. All I know is that I’m forever grateful to have a husband that not only remembers that save-the-dolphins-gonna-be-famous-someday-free-love-hippie girl, but forces me to keep her alive.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Enough is Enough
Okay, I've been saying for months, years probably... I'm gonna write a blog. Yep, I'm gonna do it... just gotta find something to blog about first... tick tick tick.
Rather than wait on some miraculously profound event to occur in my life (which could arguably be the birth of my son 10 months ago), I've started this blog. And because I have no idea what is actually gonna spew out of my mouth and onto the screen, I'm going with the generic title - "gonna write a blog." I know, clever, right?
So, about me. As I mentioned above, I'm a new mommy, plus a new wifey, a full time Communications Coordinator for a nonprofit organization, an aspiring novelist, a sometimes health nut, a graphic design wannabe, and the list goes on... so whoever said I have nothing to blog about? Psshhh.
I realize I'm a little late jumping on the blog bandwagon, but better late than never is always my motto. And with the busy life I lead, I'm almost always guaranteed to be late.
Rather than wait on some miraculously profound event to occur in my life (which could arguably be the birth of my son 10 months ago), I've started this blog. And because I have no idea what is actually gonna spew out of my mouth and onto the screen, I'm going with the generic title - "gonna write a blog." I know, clever, right?
So, about me. As I mentioned above, I'm a new mommy, plus a new wifey, a full time Communications Coordinator for a nonprofit organization, an aspiring novelist, a sometimes health nut, a graphic design wannabe, and the list goes on... so whoever said I have nothing to blog about? Psshhh.
I realize I'm a little late jumping on the blog bandwagon, but better late than never is always my motto. And with the busy life I lead, I'm almost always guaranteed to be late.
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