stop

When you’re halfway finished with your run and your child all of a sudden tries to sit up in the stroller and begins pointing, asking to get out to touch dead leaves on a tree…what do you do? Dead leaves? Really??

I’ll tell you exactly what you do.

You stop.

You get out.

You touch the leaves.

And then do this.

And this.

Over and over and over again.

And then, once your curious child has had his need to learn and play and have fun doing important kid stuff met, then and only then, do you finish your run.

Because, you see, none of that would have ever happened “later.”

You’ll both return home happier and more fulfilled than if you had ignored his request and run on, past the trees and the water and the rocks. Past his desire to experience what he sees right in front of him, just begging to be explored.

In my pre-mommy life, I would have never stopped. NEVER. Not even to enjoy a simple, beautiful thing. I wouldn’t have even seen it, truthfully. My head would stay straight, my mind solely on the task at hand. Run first, relax later. Get the job done first. Don’t stop. That will make it take longer. Push through. Ignore. Just keep going.

Now? I stop. My runs are disjointed. They take longer or the route is cut short because it’s colder or windier than I had anticipated. Or Kellan needs something. Or dropped something.

Or he sees something that fascinates him to the point of doing everything he knows how to do to get my attention so I will stop and show him whatever it is that, at the current moment, is the coolest thing in the whole wide world.

I stop. Willingly. Happily. Unselfishly.

I’m building a relationship with this little person and I want him to know that his needs are important and that it is a good thing to stop. To take a minute – or 30 minutes – to learn about something we happen upon that was not on our original agenda.

Today was such an important reminder for me. I hope it is a good reminder for all the other parents, too.

Stop. Touch leaves. Throw rocks. Smell the roses.

one hundred months

Today is Tim and my 100-month-a-versary!

And it’s also the first day of spring.

I know. We so planned it to work out this way.

We’ve gone from this:

To this:

To this.

And it just keeps getting better.

And more delayed. Obviously that’s our Christmas picture and obviously we haven’t had another chance for a “we all showered and put on real clothes” photo op.

funny…eats?

Because I’m…well, I have no time at the present moment BUT wanted to let you know that there is a rather funny guest post over here today….written by yours truly.

So, go! Read! Laugh!

And then come back here and tell me how much you love me.

(I’m kidding about that last part)

(Kind of)

good & bad…yin & yang…something like that

Post pregnancy ruminations….

The Good:

Sleeping on my stomach. I’ve been sleeping on my right side because I like to face the co-sleeper (did I mention this? Kellan absolutely will not sleep in the pack n play and those who cry fowl at this be damned. For the sake of my sanity, I sent Tim out to get a co-sleeper the first week we were home. I guess I won’t mention he actually sleeps IN the bed on really rough nights).

Anyway, the other day I finally rolled over to my left side and got about an hour of sleep in my most favorite position ever in the whole wide world. It’s something like on my stomach with one hand tucked under my pillow, the other bent comfortably with my hand near my face, my right leg completely bent, my knee pulled up toward my stomach and my left leg totally straight.

Let me just say that I was in heaven. If God created a perfect way to sleep, this is it.

Also good? Laying on my back without worrying I’m cutting off blood supply to Kellan or wondering if I’ll be able to breathe. I’m still hesitant to lay on my back only because I’ve been telling myself not to for nine months.

No more puppy pads under the sheets! Or on the couch! Or in the car! I’m no longer a liability!

I can cross my arms in front of my chest without feeling like I’m squishing a baby.

I can eat deli sandwiches. And I’ve been partaking in said activity almost daily. I’ve never been a huge sandwich fan but take them away for nine months and all of a sudden they’re a delicacy (ha…punny).

I am now able to have a huge, satisfying pee. No more of the OMG…I have to GO. NOW.

And then? Dribble, dribble, dribble.

You have no idea how non-satisfying that is…the massive, empty-your-bladder pee.

Also related? I can “hold it” again (the pee)!!!

The child birth fears and anxiety are gone because, well, obviously.

Annnnd…that’s all I’ve got, folks. I’m sure there are plenty of other really awesome things about not being preggo…but that’s all I can muster at the moment.

And by “moment” I mean about a week of adding to the list as I thought of things.

My brain just doesn’t work like it used to.

Maybe that should be the segue into the bad.

*sigh*

…The Bad:

I’m convinced that my pooper is broken. I swear the OB sewed the hole tighter than it was before. I cringe every time I have to squeeze one out.

I bleed, too.

TMI, I’m sure.

Thanks again, third degree tear.

But both are 100% true and make me 110% sadface.

Zero sleep. I thought it was bad during pregnancy? I’m laughing at mu naive self, now. Sleep deprivation is 1000000000000000000000 times worse post baby (I’m sure there should be multiple commas in that number somewhere but, again, sleep deprivation)

Your emotions are ridiculous. I can be happy one second, crying the next and then swinging a sledgehammer after that.

It’s better than it was during the first week but it still sneaks up on me sometimes…and the swings in mood/emotion catches everyone by surprise.

My stretched out jelly belly…well, belly. I have post preggo pictures to post, so I’ll let you be the judge…but, personally, I’m not a fan.

I’ll may as well continue with the vanity.

My hips and butt are massive. I think that’s where all of the “maternal stores” (read: fat) went.

And? I would LOVE to remedy the hugeness of the nether region by working out but OMG. Can we all just have a good chuckle? Who has the time or, more importantly, the energy, for such activities? My workout is having an infant attached to my boob. The end.

It has been…entirely too long since I’ve felt either pretty or sexy. While preggo, I felt bulbous and unstable and now? I just feel really, really gross.

I mean, my entire day consists of milk, spit up, poop and pee.

Immediately after I get out of the shower is the best I feel all day long.

And, like I said yesterday, caring for a baby is nothing like having a “real job.”

Nothing, not even me telling you, ad nauseum, will prepare you for the stress and emotions you’ll have while you are trying to make sure you’re being a good mom/provider/caregiver.

Also like I already mentioned, your marriage takes a huge backseat…as does everything else like date nights and intimacy.

Don’t even talk to me about sex. That area is currently wrapped in yellow Do Not Enter tape.

secret hand signal

Growing up, my mom had a hand signal she used to say “I love you” to us.  I guess it was easier than screaming “I LOVE YOU! HEY! DID YOU HEAR ME?” through the drivers seat window while you were hopping out of the car in front of all your friends.

A simple flash of the hand from my mom and then one back from us…the message was relayed and it made you look cool in front of your friends because YOUR MOM knew a secret language.

That sign didn’t die with childhood.  Tim and I use it all the time.

The first time I did it, Tim was like, “Um…what was THAT?…and WHAT would be the use of doing it?”

It only took one time in a loud, public arena where it was impossible to hear a conversation, for him to get it.  I flashed the hand signal.  He smiled, remembering what it meant…and held up his declaration too.

We’ve used it ever since.

It allows Tim to win with the guys AND with me. He doesn’t look mushy in front of other men AND it relays the message all women want to hear, all the time:  ”I love you.”

It’s perfect.

And it looks like this:

star trek…not just for trekkies

All you “Trekkies” can go ahead and get out the utter shock of disbelief: I have never seen a single episode of Star Trek.  Not one.  Not even part of one.  It never really appealed to me… and I thought it was for nerdy people, anyway.  And I had decided early on that I was a jock, not a nerd (granted I have found I just suppressing the nerd in me…).

So you can imagine my elation when Tim, member of said Trekkies, wanted to go see the Star Trek movie.

When he bounded into the house after work one day once he found out it was coming out and was all like, ” WE HAVE TO GO SEE STAR TREK! I WANT TO GO SEE STAR TREK!” My response went something like, “yea…?  I can’t wait?”

But, part of being married means doing things the other person enjoys. 

Tim runs.  He says he hates it..though I do think he secretly gets some enjoyment…

I go and do the Sci-Fi/history stuff.  And sometimes, I do enjoy it.  Or I just don’t get it at all, try as I might.  It just doesn’t connect in my brain.

Monday we were both off from work and decided to make a day-off-work-date and we went to see Star Trek.  At a movie theater that is almost an hour away from the house.  We had put off seeing the movie long enough and Tim surely didn’t want to miss the time it was playing in theaters…

Why was the theater an hour away?  Well, we live out in the middle of nowhere, for one, and two the movie theaters around our house are not equipped with “stadium seating.”  And if we’re going to “see” a movie, we’re going all out – and in all out I mean there must be stadium seating.  If you’re not privy to this type of set-up, it is what it sounds like.  The seats gradually go higher up the farther you go from the screen, like a baseball stadium. Or football stadium.  Hence the “stadium” in front of the “seating.”

We decided to go to an early movie to avoid late afternoon traffic (because traffic in Atlanta makes nails on a chalkboard while giving yourself paper cuts with card-stock a bearable activity)  learned on a Monday morning at 10:40am no one goes to the movies.  It was us and some other guy eating popcorn.  One of the employees came in somewhere in the middle with his orange stick-of-a-flashlight.  I guess to spy out intruders and kick-out movie hoppers.  I have no idea.

Being one who has no Star Trek background…I had a lot of questions like, “Who is that?” and “What just happened?” and “Why is the person with blond hair mad at the one with black hair?”

And Tim, Trekkie for life, had no idea.

When the movie was over, I asked him if he liked it.

He said to me, “It wasn’t what I expected.”

And I said, “So you didn’t like it.”

Because in boy terms, that is the nicer way to say, “It just isn’t my type.”  I think you boys learn early on how to reject someone or something without them really understanding what just happened until a few minutes later when you’re out of firing range.

Tim: “No, it’s just when you go into something with an expectation and it is completely different…”

Me: “You didn’t like it.”

Tim: “No…It was just different.”

So, if you haven’t seen the Star Trek movie and are a fan of the show, do yourself a favor and throw out any preconceived notion of what you *think* the movie might be about because apparently it’s a whole different world – quite literally.  Apparently the Star Trek Tim knew took place with a whole different set of circumstances, which is why he was as confused as I was.

But to me, it was all the same and how it was was exactly how it was supposed to be because, well, I didn’t have any expectations.

I guess maybe that might just be the way to go with some things.  Expect nothing…when whatever happens, happens…and that’s the end of it. 

No disappointment.

(I know, if only it were THAT simple…)