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July, 2010:

Yeah yeah yeah, so I was a bigger baby than he was…

I broke down and took my baby for those dreaded getting-ready-for-school-because-it-starts-in-less-than-a-week shots yesterday.  I was a nervous wreck.  If you’d have dropped a book I’d have jumped like someone set off a bomb.  I had all these visions of my baby screaming and trying to run away at first sight of the humongously ginormous needle that he’d be jabbed with.  I worked myself up, worrying about how he’d react; if I’d be able to hold him still; if the nurse would be gentle and kind or distant and unfeeling (like some I have seen, and had words with!).  Allll of that… for this…

Of course, this pic was before the shots.  He knew he was there to get shots.  He wasn’t sweatin’ it in the least.  I was.  He wasn’t.  He didn’t cry or even whimper with the first one; the second and third he didn’t want.  But he took them like a trooper.  He hugged me with a tight grip, and his little face was red and wet with tears, but he picked his toy from the nurse’s toy chest (the nurse who was awesome, by the way) and was all grins less than a minute after the last shot.  Thankfully, I won’t ever have to do this again.

I’ve always worried a bit about the immunizations, so I spent yesterday and last night watching him like a hawk.  He did fine.  In fact, he played for a while after we got home then climbed in my lap and fell asleep.  When he woke up he looked up at me and smiled, then said “My arm hurts right here.”  That was his only complaint.  He really is getting to be such a big boy.  I suppose it’s time for me to be a big girl?  Right?

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Happy Anniversary Baby- I Love You

“I Could Not Ask For More”

Lying here with you
Listening to the rain
Smiling just to see the smile upon your face
These are the moments I thank God that I’m alive
These are the moments I’ll remember all my life
I found all I’ve waited for
And I could not ask for more

Looking in your eyes
Seeing all I need
Everything you are is everything to me
These are the moments
I know heaven must exist
These are the moments I know all I need is this
I have all I’ve waited for
And I could not ask for more

I could not ask for more than this time together
I could not ask for more than this time with you
Every prayer has been answered
Every dream I have’s come true
And right here in this moment is right where I’m meant to be
Here with you here with me

These are the moments I thank God that I’m alive
These are the moments I’ll remember all my life
I’ve got all I’ve waited for
And I could not ask for more

I could not ask for more than this time together
I could not ask for more than this time with you
Every prayer has been answered
Every dream I have’s come true
And right here in this moment is right where I’m meant to be
Here with you here with me

I could not ask for more than the love you give me
‘Cause it’s all I’ve waited for
And I could not ask for more
I could not ask for more

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When mama can’t cut the chord… what then?

This has been my least favorite summer on record I think.  Every year I look forward to summer break- when the kids will be out of school and we can do things together, spend time together, and not have to get up when the rooster crows.  Every year, except this one.  For months  now I have been dreading this summer, and as I suspected it has come and nearly gone too quickly.  School starts back in one week, and I’m not ready.

I can’t get excited about having time to myself, a blessed eight hours of kid-free time that is so much needed.  I’ve tried, and I just can’t.  I’m filled with anxiety and dread- the excitement has long since left the building.  My little man, my baby, is starting kindergarten in one week.  ONE week.  My baby will no longer be here with me.  He will be in school being a ‘big boy’ and playing with other ‘big boys’ and I can’t summon one ounce of excitement.  Not one.

It’s not like I haven’t done this before, I have.  Three times.  I had a little anxiety the three previous times, but nothing like this.  I haven’t bought any school supplies yet.  I don’t want to.  I haven’t even taken him for his immunization boosters.  I don’t want to.  I’ve joked to him and hubby about homeschooling.  Only a small part of me was joking.  I live barely over a mile from the school—and it’s a really good school.  There’s no reason, really, to home school.  (And if I’m being completely honest, I don’t have the patience to actually school my child at home.)  Yet there is this part of me that wishes I could.  There is this part of me that wishes I could put this entire year on hold and keep him here, at home, with me, like it has been for the past five years, one month, and 28 days.

Am I too attached to my child?  Really?  Is that even possible?  Let’s think about this for a minute…

When he was a few months old, hubby started the co-sleeping thing with my very vocal protests.  Three years later, I found myself unable to get out of the co-sleeping thing.  I tried- I really did.  It only lasted a few days.  After that few days, I moved his toddler bed into my room, at the foot of my bed.  That lasted for about a year and a half, then we moved.  I can’t fit his toddler bed at the foot of my bed anymore.  When he turned four, I told him it was time to start sleeping in his own bed because he was a ‘big boy’.  He didn’t really have any problems with that, but I did.  It lasted about a week.  Then I suggested he cuddle with mama for ‘just one night’.  That just one night hasn’t ended yet.  There have been a few nights here and there that he has fallen asleep on the couch; his daddy puts him to bed in HIS bed; and all is well.  Until I go to bed.  “I miss my cuddle-bug” is all it takes and hubby is up, getting my sleeping child out of his own bed and putting him to bed in ours.  I honestly miss him when he’s not sleeping right next to me.

Maybe I am a wee bit too attached to my child.  Maybe?

It’s not like I haven’t been attached to the other kids.  I have.  But to this extent?   I don’t know…

He is the baby, literally.  He’s the  last of my babies, the last one I’ll ever have.  He was the hardest one to get here too.  I’ve had this—attachment—to him since he was born.  When we were still in the hospital, I didn’t allow them to take him back to the nursery once they brought him to me.  He stayed in the room with me, where I could be close to him and watch him… breathing.  When we brought him home from the hospital, I kept him close to me wherever I was.  I would wake up during the night and put my hand on his chest to make sure he was breathing.  This lasted until he was too big for the bassinette; and then hubby transferred him to our bed, where he’s been ever since.

I’m sure some of it comes from the fact that I had given up on getting pregnant when I found out I was pregnant with him; and at 16 weeks, I ended up in the hospital in the throws of a miscarriage.  This wasn’t my first and only trip either.  Three times I was admitted because of premature dilation, premature contractions, premature labor.  The hardest thing was when my doctor told me, upon being admitted the first time, that if he wasn’t able to stop the contractions, there’d be nothing he could do to save my baby.  That was a blow that hit me to the core of my being.  Even then, I think I cuddled him, in my own way.

I lived in fear until the day he was born, and even that was a fearful birth.  But miraculously, he was perfectly healthy and weighed in at 5 pounds and 5 ounces… quite surprising for a baby who was 8 weeks premature.

I lived in fear after he was born, maybe because of the fear I felt before?  I don’t know.  But now… now I’m expected to let him go off to school, to be without me for a huge chunk of the day when he never has been.  The very thought of it rips my heart into a million little pieces and I don’t.know.why.  Logically I know he will be fine.  Logically I know he will enjoy it and it will be good for him.  Maybe it’s the good for me part I’m not getting?

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Will you stay or will you go?

I’m hoping for the latter.   I know many of you will go, and that’s okay.  I understand.  But I truly hope you will stay, and read on- to the end.

As far back as I can remember, I have always been a passionate individual.  When I believe in something, I believe with everything in me.  When I jump on board something, I don’t do it half-way.  Sometimes I take on too much because of this, and end up feeling dazed and confused, but eventually it all works out.

Those of you who know me personally know the crosses I’ve had to bear.  You know the struggles I’ve had to face and you know the pain it has caused me.  You know how hard it has been to deal with the reality of my past- from childhood to early adulthood.  Even today, I struggle with the weight of it all.  BUT, this struggle is what has made me who I am.  These events that have been with me for so many years have molded me into the passionate person I am today.  I’ve made mistakes- some small, some large, some catastrophic- but these mistakes don’t define me.  They are not who I am.  The things that have happened to me- things beyond my control- don’t define me.  They are not who I am.  The way I’ve handled these things- events, mistakes, tragedies- the lessons I’ve learned and brought with me does define me.  This is who I am.

I’ve had to learn forgiveness the hard way- one of the hardest ways possible.  True forgiveness.  Not just empty words; but true and pure forgiveness.  That is something I couldn’t do on my own.  It’s in my nature, just as it is in everyone, to hold grudges; to harbor anger and resentment; to hate.  To truly forgive and let go of all those emotions is humanly impossible.

In the midst of all the bad that has plagued the majority of my 36 years is hope.  Light.  Something that has changed me from within- not my personality; not the passion that has emerged from tragedy- that is who I am and that remains the same.  My heart has changed.  My mind has changed.  My life has changed.  I have been given the strength to forgive, truly forgive, and that forgiveness has opened my eyes to a much brighter world.  I have found a peace that I never knew existed.  I have found more passion than I knew was possible.  Some days I am filled with such happiness that I could shout it from a mountain top; scream it out for the whole world to hear.  Of course some days are a little dimmer, because I still have my crosses to bear.  But I no longer have to go it alone.  I don’t have to fear the darkness anymore because I know the darkness will never come again.  I am finally, truly, free to live and to hope and to love.  And that is a powerful thing!

If you’re still reading, I sincerely thank you and hope you will continue on…

I am just a person.  A person who messes up; who says the wrong things at the wrong times; who is sometimes too lazy to get dressed or brush my hair; who cries at sappy commercials; who laughs at jokes five minutes after they’ve been told; and who thinks deeply and loves sincerely.  I’m not wise or witty; I’m not good at giving advice or taking my own.  I’m a person who sometimes changes her mind about something an hour after making a decision.  I’m overweight and I’m a smoker.  I’m a serious procrastinator and I sometimes run from responsibility.  But it’s okay.  Because I am loved for who I am, just the way I am.  And I know this for a fact.

I read this poem I’m about to share with you some 6 months ago or so; it has been on my refrigerator ever since to serve as a reminder that it is okay to be who I am, and that it’s no accident…

You are who you are for a reason.
you’re part of an intricate plan.
You’re a precious and perfect unique design,
Called God’s special woman or man.

You look like you look for a reason.
Our God made no mistake.
He knit you together within the womb,
You’re just what He wanted to make.

The parents you had were the ones He chose,
and no matter how you may feel,
They were custom designed with God’s plan in mind,
And they bear the Master’s seal.

No, that trauma you faced was not easy.
And God wept that it hurt you so;
But it was allowed to shape your heart,
So that into His likeness you’d grow.

You are who you are for a reason,
You’ve been formed by the Master’s rod.
You are who you are, beloved,
Because there is a God!

by Russell Kelfer

When I read that, I cried.  I cried because it was at that moment that my life long question- Why me?- had been answered.  I cried because it was at that moment I realized that nothing I’d done mattered- He still loved me.  I cried because I’d wasted so many years being hurt and angry, and not knowing who I was really angry with.  I cried because for the first time in my life, I felt like I mattered.

I sat down and prayed that day; I prayed that God would take my pain away, and I thanked Him for making me who I am.  I thanked Him for not turning His back on me when I turned my back on Him.  And I cried some more, because I had turned my back on Him.  That night, I slept more peacefully than I ever have.  I didn’t lie there in the dark worrying about the next day; worrying about things I had no control over or worrying about things in the past I couldn’t change.  I simply… slept.

I didn’t realize until a few months later, when someone who sees and talks to me pretty regularly mentioned, that I had changed. I wasn’t the same person as I had been a few months earlier.  I don’t know if the change was gradual or near-instant.  I don’t know because I didn’t notice.  I knew I felt better, inside.  I knew I wasn’t as angry or as easily angered.  But I didn’t realize to what extent I’d changed until someone pointed it out.  The more I thought about it, the more I realized it was true.  And apparently this person wasn’t the only one to notice.

This change wasn’t my doing.  I don’t have that kind of power or control.  I was the same person for 35 years.  I don’t have the ability to change myself that drastically in a matter of a few months.  Only God has that kind of power.  Only the Master who created me can change me to such an extent.  And He has.

I’m not going to try and convince you to believe in something you don’t; and I’m not going to try to change you.  I don’t have that kind of power either.  I am going to wish for you to feel what I feel, however.  And I’m going to share something that I wish, HOPE, for everyone…

Life was filled with guns and war and all of us got trampled on the floor.
I wish we’d all been ready.
Children died, the days grew cold.  A piece of bread could buy a bag of gold.
I wish we’d all been ready.
There’s no time to change your mind.  The Son has come and you’ve been left behind.
A man and wife asleep in bed
She hears a noise and turns her head he’s gone.
I wish we’d all been ready.  Two men walking up a hill, one disappears, and one’s left standing still.  I wish we’d all been ready. There’s no time to change your mind.  The Son has come and you’ve been left behind. The Father spoke, the demons died.  How could you have been so blind? There’s no time to change your mind.  The Son has come and you’ve been left behind.

I hope we’ll all be ready.

Recorded by dc Talk, written by Larry Norman.

If you’ve stayed with me till then end, then I thank you from the bottom of my heart.  You are loved, never doubt that, ever.

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Everyone else is facing forward, except mine…

We recently attended the end of VBS program where we were able to see the kids singing and dancing along with songs they learned during the week, and get an idea of what they had learned during the week.

One of the highlights of the week was the horses brought by our Pastor.  The theme of the week was “Saddle Up” and our Pastor has a horse ranch (rescues) so it really REALLY fit.  As I mentioned in a previous post, I tried getting my little man to pet one of the horses and he wasn’t having it.  I showed him how easy it was, and how the horse wouldn’t hurt him.  I rubbed and petted and rubbed and talked and he just shook his head NO and ducked out.  Then later, when it was over, he came running to tell me he had actually RIDDEN the horses!  He not only pet them, he got on the back of one and rode it.  After I tried and tried and failed.  onhorse Well, at least I have picture proof that he did indeed sit on the back of that giant animal that he refused to touch until after I had left and he just had to prove me wrong because that is what kids do best just to make us walk around with pie in our face!  *breathe*  Oh, right, back to the program.

My little man was cute, but it did take a little while to get there.  It would seem that his attention was focused elsewhere in the beginning.  Where?  I’m not sure, but we all got a great view of his backside…backwards while all the other kiddos were busy singing and dancing along to the music…  pictures being snapped, videos being recorded, I was waiting patiently for MY CHILD TO TURN AROUND SO I COULD TAKE HIS PICTURE!  He was happily singing and dancing, moving his feet, moving his hands, just like the rest of the kiddos—or so it appeared from this view… he just would.not.turn.around!  Maybe he knew I was holding the camera and he was doing it on purpose?  Or maybe he was thinking… “I’ll just let mama take a picture of me from behind because that’s the best view.”  I’ve seen his backside a bazillion times.  It’s cute, really.  But NOT WHAT I WAS GOING FOR HERE!

I tried getting his attention without being overly obvious… a few PSSTs here and there.  Several loudly whispered “ZAKKs” and… I even flailed my arms like a wild pigeon a few times when I –thought- he was about to turn his head.  And.  Nothing.

By this point everyone is starting to giggle because MY CHILD is the ONLY one who isn’t forward-facing, and he’s REALLY getting into this dance.  *red-face* He even wiggled his butt a couple times, and that really got the laughs.  *red-face giggle* Maybe his goal was to be the class clown?  If so, he nailed it!

But alas the song was over and it was time for them to sit down.  The next age group needed a turn.  They all faced-forward also.  dancing Finally, it was his age group’s time again!!  I had another chance!  I’d get a good picture this time, I mean this was his first VBS and all and I really need photo memories of this moment because they’re only this age once, right?  RIGHT?   So they all pile on stage, which filled up rather quickly.  A couple little girls decided to step off-stage right in front- which really did work better because it enabled us to see all the kids- and then, here comes my little man.. out of the pack of boys, situating himself right smack dab in the middle of the girls!    He didn’t stay on stage with the boys; oh no, he found himself a spot right there with the little girls.  Front and center.  Literally.  With the girls.  Not the boys, the girls.  (He’s so his daddy’s boy!)  At least I was able to get pictures of the right side this time.  He danced and spun and did these cute little hand gestures and sang and smiled at the little girls every chance he got and… well it was cute.  And again, giggles from the crowd.  By this point it was quite obvious that my child was choosing to be the class clown.  But hey, someone has to right?  And it did make the whole night memorable, and cute.  Well, except for the time he turned to the little girl on his left and poked her in the side.  She didn’t think it was funny, but he did.  Somehow I don’t think it was the right time for tickling OR flirting with the neighbor.

certificate I was able to get a few pictures for the memory album though, and most of them include his face.   In the end, he received his certificate along with a bag of goodies (which I don’t recommend giving to a five year old unless the festivities are over because it’s really really hard to keep them from ripping it open and ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing’ over everything in there including the suckers and candy which can only make them a little more hyper!).

It was a great night, no one got hurt, and he ended up smiling for me after all!   I did have to coax that smile because he was “too tiiiiired” to take a picture, but mama always gets her way!  Just sometimes it takes eleventy-hundred tries.

We celebrated by taking the kids out to a fast-food joint of their choosing.  My little man didn’t quite make it though… he was fast asleep about five minutes out- despite the sugar rush from the goody bag.  It must have been from all that dancing and arm-flailing and butt-wiggling.  I hear it’s really good exercise.

Though I was a little red-faced a time or two, and there were those teary-eyed moments–from trying desperately hard to suppress my laughter– it was a great trip to ‘Saddle Ridge Ranch’.  And another set of memories to go into the mama vault.  Have to cherish these because he’ll be grown before I know it.  (And will probably still be a clown I suspect!)

****other people’s kids’ faces have been blurred for their protection and privacy

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