1. Family who help watch Liam every week. I know that it is a lot to ask of family to be caregivers every week, but they do it with love and joy. My mom (Mimi), mother-in-law (Grammy) and occasionally, sisters and sister-in-law are the best sitters around. When you add in our fantastic nanny, Brooke, the Liam "babysitting calendar" looks pretty complicated. But we, and he, wouldn't have it any other way.
2. Coffee. Take one sick baby, multiply it by three flights in the last week, add a hotel room and subtract any semblance of a schedule...you know what that equals? No sleep. Thank God for Peet's coffee, which helps me keep my eyes open at work. It was on sale at Safeway this week--$7.99 a pound--and I stocked up.
3. Kenra Dry Shampoo. I could marry this product. In less than 30 seconds, my roots are clean and I have saved 30 minutes. An extra thirty minutes these days is PRICELESS.
4. My "McJob." Some people think McDonald's is a dead end job. It is anything but that. I work for a company that rewards hard work, that offers enormous opportunity for growth and that invests in my future. And I work for a company who understands that I am a mom first.
5. My Husband He should really be at the top of this list. He is a hard worker, the best father and makes me feel like the most important thing in his life. He makes me laugh everyday, grounds me and supports me in the midst of difficult circumstances.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
9 months!
So, for those who come to the blog for pictures, they are right at the front of this post.
For those of you who like to read novels, I have the start of one below. I don't usually write so much, but my little 9-month old is quite inspiring. It's more of a letter to him, but you are welcome to read. But beware, it is a long one.
**Official 9 Month pictures to come once we get our laptop fixed (Uggghh, second Mac down in a year). For now, a couple IPhone photos to tide you over:
I am a couple days late for the monthly post, but penned my thoughts on a flight a couple days ago:
Happy 9 Month Birthday, William!
I can't believe you are already nine months. You have been in this world as long as you were nestled in my womb. I remember, month by month of my pregnancy, marveling at how you were growing inside of me--wondering who you would be, what you would look like and how you would impact my life.
Now, I see who you are and little glimpses of who you will be. You are becoming our “little man”—laughing with your one syllable “ha!” and taking pride in your accomplishments—crawling all over, pulling yourself up, giving us “raspberries” on our arms and kisses on command.
Sometimes, when I look at you, I am overwhelmed with emotion and awe…that something so perfect, so adorable came from me. Confession time: When I was pregnant, there were times that I would find myself wondering what you would look like. I have seen a couple of awkward babies in my time, and I didn’t assume that my child would automatically be a supermodel. But I had nothing to fret about. Including your extremely large front teeth (which I think are a most adorable trait) you are picture perfect. I actually had someone ask me recently if I had considered getting you an agent. Another perfect stranger stopped us in the grocery store and told me that you were so cute and should be a “Gerber Baby.” I am proud of your handsome looks, but honestly a little worried about the prospect of young ladies adoring you in your future. I am not ready to give up my position as the main woman in your life.
You are growing like a weed—taller and thinner every day. You are stretching out, barely gaining any weight in the past couple months-- rather gaining height. Your hair is still fuzzy, seemingly sticking up on end most of the time, the light brown wisps almost see-through in the right light. Your little nose looks an awful lot like mine, but judging by the amount of times you faceplant into the floor or furniture I wonder if it will be permanently swollen from impact.
You have two smiles for two different settings. The first is BIG, your mouth almost making the shape of the letter O, your two large front teeth dominating it. This is your smile for most people, and you give it to me and your dad anytime you see us after we have been away from you for a while. Your second smile is a bashful one. You tilt your head down, peer up with your eyes and curl the ends of your lips into a grin. I haven’t pinpointed why you do this—I think it is mostly for people you aren’t completely comfortable with, but I also think you reserve it for when you are feeling slightly sneaky.
And oh, boy—how have you impacted my life? All for the better. Life seems a blur before you—less important. From the moment I hear you talking on the monitor in the morning, to the moment you are snuggling me in your rocking chair at night, you bring me so much happiness and contentment. I find myself wishing for more time with Liam at the end of the day. I love staring at you while you sleep and watching you learn when you are awake. You still love books. You still love being outside.
You have begun to take interest in watching other children. Last night at the park you were mesmerized by two boys kicking around a soccerball and others zooming by you on scooters. In your stroller, you like to sit on the edge of your seat and pull yourself to standing, wanting to get as close to the action as possible. Sit back and relax? Not in your vocabulary! You are fun, you are curious, you are easy going, you are engaging, you are well behaved.
Last week, you were Mr. Flexible and Mr. Sweetness. I hijacked your ordinarily regimented schedule with a 12 hour, all night, road trip to Seattle to visit your Great Grand-mama Pelton. She is very ill and is in hospice care. I didn’t really expect anything less from you, but you were a complete blessing to an otherwise difficult couple days.
Each time we walked into her room, you reached out for her and wanted to give her hugs and slobber kisses. Your smile not only brightened her spirits, but also those of family members visiting and coping with the pain of losing her. It went beyond our family, even touching nurses and volunteers at the house. Over the four days we were there I heard multiple times: “He is so adorable and so well behaved.” One nurse made me realize how sweet it was to have you there, saying: “It is so refreshing to see new life in a place like this.” You brought life and joy to a situation that would have been much more painful without you.
The sweetest moment was when you were taking your morning nap. I was holding you as I sat by Grandma’s bed. I showed her your precious sleeping face, and asked her if she wanted to hold you. Too weak to hold you in her arms, I laid you, swaddled, in the bed right next to her, your head cradled in the nook of her arm. You slept there peacefully for over two hours. The last hour, Grandma drifted off with you…both of you sleeping together. It was a priceless moment, captured by camera and the film of my heart. Though uncharacteristic for you—both the long nap, and being held that long, I was not surprised by your ability to adapt to the situation and be an immediate blessing. Those are your definitely part of your budding character.
You have no idea the joy you bring me. I suspect that you won’t for many years to come—maybe not until you experience this with your own son or daughter. But for now, I will write about the joy I have in you so you can read it later and know how much, how deeply I care for you.
Happy nine month birthday.
Love, Mum-Mum
For those of you who like to read novels, I have the start of one below. I don't usually write so much, but my little 9-month old is quite inspiring. It's more of a letter to him, but you are welcome to read. But beware, it is a long one.
**Official 9 Month pictures to come once we get our laptop fixed (Uggghh, second Mac down in a year). For now, a couple IPhone photos to tide you over:
your shy & sneaky smile (with a cereal mustache, no less)
about to pout--get that bottom lip out!
favorite time of the day--bathtime!
clean monkey!
I am a couple days late for the monthly post, but penned my thoughts on a flight a couple days ago:
Happy 9 Month Birthday, William!
I can't believe you are already nine months. You have been in this world as long as you were nestled in my womb. I remember, month by month of my pregnancy, marveling at how you were growing inside of me--wondering who you would be, what you would look like and how you would impact my life.
Now, I see who you are and little glimpses of who you will be. You are becoming our “little man”—laughing with your one syllable “ha!” and taking pride in your accomplishments—crawling all over, pulling yourself up, giving us “raspberries” on our arms and kisses on command.
Sometimes, when I look at you, I am overwhelmed with emotion and awe…that something so perfect, so adorable came from me. Confession time: When I was pregnant, there were times that I would find myself wondering what you would look like. I have seen a couple of awkward babies in my time, and I didn’t assume that my child would automatically be a supermodel. But I had nothing to fret about. Including your extremely large front teeth (which I think are a most adorable trait) you are picture perfect. I actually had someone ask me recently if I had considered getting you an agent. Another perfect stranger stopped us in the grocery store and told me that you were so cute and should be a “Gerber Baby.” I am proud of your handsome looks, but honestly a little worried about the prospect of young ladies adoring you in your future. I am not ready to give up my position as the main woman in your life.
You are growing like a weed—taller and thinner every day. You are stretching out, barely gaining any weight in the past couple months-- rather gaining height. Your hair is still fuzzy, seemingly sticking up on end most of the time, the light brown wisps almost see-through in the right light. Your little nose looks an awful lot like mine, but judging by the amount of times you faceplant into the floor or furniture I wonder if it will be permanently swollen from impact.
You have two smiles for two different settings. The first is BIG, your mouth almost making the shape of the letter O, your two large front teeth dominating it. This is your smile for most people, and you give it to me and your dad anytime you see us after we have been away from you for a while. Your second smile is a bashful one. You tilt your head down, peer up with your eyes and curl the ends of your lips into a grin. I haven’t pinpointed why you do this—I think it is mostly for people you aren’t completely comfortable with, but I also think you reserve it for when you are feeling slightly sneaky.
And oh, boy—how have you impacted my life? All for the better. Life seems a blur before you—less important. From the moment I hear you talking on the monitor in the morning, to the moment you are snuggling me in your rocking chair at night, you bring me so much happiness and contentment. I find myself wishing for more time with Liam at the end of the day. I love staring at you while you sleep and watching you learn when you are awake. You still love books. You still love being outside.
You have begun to take interest in watching other children. Last night at the park you were mesmerized by two boys kicking around a soccerball and others zooming by you on scooters. In your stroller, you like to sit on the edge of your seat and pull yourself to standing, wanting to get as close to the action as possible. Sit back and relax? Not in your vocabulary! You are fun, you are curious, you are easy going, you are engaging, you are well behaved.
Last week, you were Mr. Flexible and Mr. Sweetness. I hijacked your ordinarily regimented schedule with a 12 hour, all night, road trip to Seattle to visit your Great Grand-mama Pelton. She is very ill and is in hospice care. I didn’t really expect anything less from you, but you were a complete blessing to an otherwise difficult couple days.
Each time we walked into her room, you reached out for her and wanted to give her hugs and slobber kisses. Your smile not only brightened her spirits, but also those of family members visiting and coping with the pain of losing her. It went beyond our family, even touching nurses and volunteers at the house. Over the four days we were there I heard multiple times: “He is so adorable and so well behaved.” One nurse made me realize how sweet it was to have you there, saying: “It is so refreshing to see new life in a place like this.” You brought life and joy to a situation that would have been much more painful without you.
The sweetest moment was when you were taking your morning nap. I was holding you as I sat by Grandma’s bed. I showed her your precious sleeping face, and asked her if she wanted to hold you. Too weak to hold you in her arms, I laid you, swaddled, in the bed right next to her, your head cradled in the nook of her arm. You slept there peacefully for over two hours. The last hour, Grandma drifted off with you…both of you sleeping together. It was a priceless moment, captured by camera and the film of my heart. Though uncharacteristic for you—both the long nap, and being held that long, I was not surprised by your ability to adapt to the situation and be an immediate blessing. Those are your definitely part of your budding character.
You have no idea the joy you bring me. I suspect that you won’t for many years to come—maybe not until you experience this with your own son or daughter. But for now, I will write about the joy I have in you so you can read it later and know how much, how deeply I care for you.
Happy nine month birthday.
Love, Mum-Mum
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