Starving Child Syndrome

I think a big part of how someone rates their own attractiveness is directly related to how people respond to them.

It seems like forever since I have been passionately kissed. (I do not like the word "passionately"; it is just one of the words that sound like toilet fungus would if it could talk.)

I do not think people kiss like that enough. The kind of kiss that makes you dizzy and your stomach turn. The kind that takes your breath away, and that you can feel it so deep within you that you almost wonder if it is possible for someone to suck out your soul.

Why is passion so hard to hold onto? Yeah there are the hello kisses and goodbye kisses and good night kisses- but they start to become routine and start to lose their meaning. They are not enough to sustain us or remind us that someone loves us and finds us irresistible, because no one should have to ask to be shown affection.

Nine Months

Dear Jack,

In a couple of days you will be nine months old. I would say that you have been out in the world as long as you were in my tummy, but that would be a lie because you decided to wait until I took matters into my own hands and evicted you myself. I will never forget when Dr. Rock asked me if I wanted to be induced. I know I heard angels singing and I swear I could smell flowers.

For me, these first nine months have been much more satisfying that the nine months you were inside of me, and I think they have been for you as well. I prefer you more in my arms than squashed all hours of the day in my pelvis.

The last month has been, yet, another blur of happenings. Except for formula, you are completely done with baby food. We are starting to try and teach you how to wave. You say "Dada" and "Mama" but you have no idea what that means and that those labels apply to us. Your balance is getting a lot better and I expect you to let go of the end table one day and just take a walk. By the way, the thought of you walking completely creeps me out. I think it is because you are growing up entirely too fast and my brain is having a hard time processing past the fact that you crawl and know how to yell and fake laugh.

You had your first operation this month, nothing big. You were born with a slight defect- well I would hardly call it a defect because it has not and will not ever affect you and you can not tell anything is different unless you look really hard...which there better not be too many people looking that hard.

I was pretty calm about everything before hand. Just a little procedure, no big deal. The day before, the nurse called to tell me what time to come in and then casually pressed the red button under her desk and sent the nuclear bomb that you would not be able to eat anything from 5am until your surgery at 1130. But, dont worry, he is Dr. Wu's first appointment. Oh, ok, that would make your lack of understanding pertaining to WHY I was not letting you eat all morning go a lot smoother.

Thankfully, you are a little billy goat and you were happy enough chewing on my keys. We got to the hospital and they took us back to a room to be weighed and measured and changed. P.s. CUTEST little hospital gown. They say ignorance is bliss, and so you were completely content sitting on my lap and whipping my keys at my face.

It was when I started talking to the anesthesiologist and doctors and nurses when things started to sink in- you would be put under completely. I realized in that moment that I was absolutely petrified. Of course, everything went well, but the wait to hear that you were awake felt like an eternity. I have to say, I have never seen you so happy to see me in your entire life. We sat in the recovery room and just cuddled in the chair. We were back where we started our relationship- in a hospital room, your hand wrapped around my finger and me obsessing over how absolutely beautiful you are and how absolutely lucky I am to have you in my life.

When we left the hospital and got home, you were completely happy and wonderful the entire night and everyday following. I find myself always underestimating how strong you are and how much you can handle. I suppose that is what mothers do though. I will always want to baby you, even when you are married and have your own wife and kids. I suppose that is just a part of motherhood. Sure, I will let you grow and discover things on your own. I refuse to have you completely dependent on me and I will never handicap you by sheltering you from the world. But, no matter how old you get, my heart will always recognize you as my little baby boy with big innocent blue eyes. My heart is my Never Land, and you are my Peter Pan.

Love,

Mommy

I can feel the flapping of tassle in my face already...

Today, I started class- and I am excited. It is a completely different excitement than which I felt when I started after high school. That was a more, "I am away from home...I do not have a curfew...and I can eat two cheeseburgers AND have three bowls of ice cream if I want!". Choosing a professional path right out of high school is like playing Russian Roulette with one open chamber. Sure, there are people who know what they want to do from the crib, but I think most people who pick a major choose something they think might be good for them or because they could not think of anything else better to spend the rest of their lives doing. I would like to think that when I dropped out of school three and a half years in, I was just acting out what so many students want to do but are too afraid of.

Yeah, it is going to be a challenge to work full time, take care of my family, keep up with everyday errands, and attend school but those obstacles will always be there, and I would be lying if I said they will never get in the way. I believe, however, that my drive and determination and need to succeed and complete my degree is large enough to get through all of that. I have a lot more desire now to learn and finish school than I did when I started at SRU six years ago. I am more mature, more responsible, and have a lot more riding on my success now than I did then- and I think know that will allow everything to fall into place.

I needed a vacation yesterday

I am sitting here....in a complete funk. I just thought about going on vacation and I think the reality of not being able to afford to go until sometime later next year just set in to my emotional nervous system. I just felt the stinging pressure well up behind my eyes. A good night sleep will not fix this. I need a break. All of my days off lately have been for doctor visits and oil changes and other errands.

It would just be nice to get away from here to recharge. I really hope I am running on energizer, because that rabbit keeps going and going and going...

I am going to tan tonight, because nothing says feel good like killing skin cells.

Last night, Bill and I went balls to the wall with cleaning. If you and I are ever in a conversation that turns to the cliche topic of men not helping around the house, know now that I will not be able to contribute. Bill helps with the laundry, cleaning, and Jack. I remember having a conversation a week or so ago with some women at work. I was telling them that I went out dress shopping with my mom and sister. When they asked if Jack went to, and after I told them "no, he stayed home with his daddy" I had to go get some windex and paper towels because their jaws shattered on the floor. The one woman told me that when she would go out grocery shopping and ask her husband if he would watch their kids, he would ask them if she could call her mom because he was busy (watching tv). It was a good thing we already had windex and paper towels on hand, because it was her turn to clean up my jaw.

I can not imagine Bill acting like that, and if he did I would probably leave anyway. I do not think a mutual helpful relationship is a fairytale scenario. If Bill did not contribute, our life would be complete chaos, period. His clothes need cleaned too, he helped make Jack, and he did not eat out of his hands. I am so happy he recognizes that.

I am sitting at my desk right now listening to an older couple talk. I am not intentionally listening, but it is hard to find something else to concentrate on. Their topics so far have consisted of:

1) the scuffiness of the floor
2) the chances the furniture has been recently reupholstered.
3) if her lipstick is crooked
4) if she should take her jacket off now or later
5) hoping that I knew who they were here to see because he was not out yet and it had been more than 3 minutes
6) their fear that it may rain before they are able to get home.

In my head, I was beginning to poke fun at them...oh, silly old people and their silly old people concerns. Then I caught myself and realized that Bill and I fall asleep on the couch by 930 most nights and I ask him 65 times if things look ok and that after we are not met within 5 minutes I also complain.

Little events in life continuously teach me about Bill and I and our relationship. I concern myself over what we could change to create a fight free atmosphere. Maybe if we were more financially set, maybe if we had two cars, maybe if our work loads were lighter, maybe if we were able more time out together, ....maybe if the sky was purple. Age, financial status, free time, and all of those other factors we try and change in hopes of making our lives better and our relationships stronger only create excuses for us to fall back on. People go through rough patches, they have problems, people question, people falter and become boring and predictable and that is ok. No matter how long you have been together or how much you love each other, every so often you hit thin ice and you have to make a choice. You give up and leave, or your get their initials tattooed on your arm to show them that you are still in it if they are. Love is wanting to be with someone forever, just sitting on a park bench holding hands...or in an accountants office asking if you were able to put your lipstick on straight that morning and knowing they will tell you the truth because it isn't their fault they can only see two inches in front of them.

So, Saturday was my shower, and all in all I think it went well.

After the shower, a couple of people went to the bar and had some drinks. We got on the topic of politics...two things you never talk about sober or intoxicated are Religion and Politics. It was 5pm and I had been steadily consuming alcohol since 1pm. My dad and Kelly were talking about the upcoming election and when the subject turned to my dad voting for Obama, I started to get emotional. So emotional that when I voiced my incoherent opinion, I started to involuntarily cry. I have to tell you, the ride home that night and all day Sunday, I was plagued by my reaction and behavior. I was so embarrassed that I had cried. So embarrassed by my incoherent babble. Then it hit me this morning while I was brushing my teeth. What am I so ashamed of? I have a passionate opinion about the future of my country. Ill admit, the article written in the NY Post hit me a lot harder than I thought it did. It had apparently been brewing deep inside me waiting for the most inopportune time to emerge in an over-saturated ramble. For the record, no, I do not think Obama is the antichrist. I am hardly that disconnected from reality and logical thinking. The article was merely thought and emotion provoking and only validated my fears of him. I do not agree with his actions or policies to the point of blatant fear. He is a smooth talker that does not say anything. He is so completely radical, that if he travels any further left he will fall off the face of the planet.

The state of our present economy petrifies me to the point of nausea. I worry about the world my son will grow up in and our enemies overseas- enemies that have absolutely no regard for human life. People who kill women, children, their own, and even themselves without a second thought. There is no one scarier than someone who is not even afraid of their own demise, because they are unstoppable.

I pray every night for a strong and sensible leader. Bush may go down as being one of the worst presidents in history, but I go to bed at night feeling safe. I go to bed at night knowing there is a force out their protecting me and my family from the boogey men in the shadows. I go to bed full of the appreciation that these conflicts are not in my backyard and that I am able to live my day without the constant fear of a car exploding next to me in a parking lot. For all of its flaws, god bless America. God bless our opportunities and comforts. And, god bless the election and the future of this country.

Conundrum

I discovered a parenting crack this morning. I was standing at the sink washing bottles, and Jack crawled into the kitchen. He climbed up my legs and pestered me with whines to pick him up. I told him that I was busy and he would have to wait. Hey, if he wants to eat, then I need to make bottles. The whines turned to cries and the clutching hands turned into clenched fists resulting in involuntary full hand pinches on my legs.

After I was done doing what I needed to do, I picked him up- not because he was still screaming (which he was) but because I was ready to and we had to leave. That is when it hit me- I picked him up because we had to leave but he probably thinks I picked him up because his crying finally got my attention. How does he learn to chill out when he wants something if he thinks that if he cries long enough he will finally get his way...even though he is not really getting his way, I am just ready to do move on to that task.