People Who Love You: Nana Amy

I'm so excited to publish the first post in what I hope becomes a long and meaningful series: People Who Love You.
The idea came to me months ago as my husband and I faced the reality of moving away from my hometown and the place we had met and fallen in love. At the same time, some of my best friends made their own plans to explore new roads in their lives, and quickly I watched my tight web of support begin to stretch much further than I was comfortable with.
But here's the thing: life changes. And it's a good thing. The path that my family is on is the right one for us. And the paths that my friends are on are good for them, too. But that doesn't make it sting any less.
So, in the spirit of all that change - and the attempt at accepting it - I wanted to write a series of posts about the people who are in our lives, right now today. The people who have surrounded us and loved us during the best - and worst - times of our lives so far. But, most importantly, I wanted to write about the people who love you, my son. I want you to know all about the people who have been there for you from the start, from my mouth and theirs.

This post feels like the most natural place to start: my mother and your beautiful Nana Amy.
Growing up, I knew that my Mom was special. The older I got, the more clear that became. When I was a nanny at 18, I got in a fight with the mom of the family I was living with because she was failing to live up to the idea I had in my head of what a mom should be. I even have a word for it: SuperMom. That's your Nana. She's the absolute authority on Love and Nurture. She has been my rock throughout my life, and I lean on her and rely on her wisdom now more then ever. Because when it comes to being a mom, I want to be just like her.

___________

Hello my sweet boy Drake,

It’s your Nana - your Momma’s Momma.

There’s so much to say to you! 

I was there the day you were born, for every labored moment of it.  Your Momma did SO well. Leading up to that day, your Momma worked very hard to be sure you grew big, strong, and healthy. And that you did! She was horribly sick with you but she soldiered on and did great!  Your Daddy was a huge support – being sure she ate when she could and slept when she could and comforted and encouraged her during the times she thought she couldn’t take anymore. Then on your birthday, he stayed right by her side doing all that he could to help you be born.  And Nana was right there too. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world! 

We were so excited to have a boy again in the family.  All your cousins thus far are girls so you are a welcomed addition into the mix.  I think your cousins will spoil you. Before long though you will be bigger than your youngest cousin, Ashton.  She is petite and you are not!  We call you Michelin Man because of all your rolls which remind me of your Uncle Trevor.  He was like that too but I think you may have him beat at this point!  But I love every single roll on you. I cannot get enough kisses planted on you somewhere.  I hope you will not mind that much as you get bigger.  Your Nana loves to hug and kiss her babies!!

You are now 9 months old and watching you grow and thrive has been so much fun. At times you remind me of your uncle Trevor, then your momma and other times, you are the spitting image of your daddy. You always smile. If and when you ever do cry, it’s such a surprise to us. You tolerate your cousins, the dogs licking your face, hands, and feet, everyone kissing on you, tickling you. You just go with the flow pretty much of whatever is happening around you.  Recently you and your parents moved into a new home. During that stressful time, you were a bit perturbed by all the constant activity and jostling about but still, such a sweet boy.

You love your baths which makes Nana so happy as that hopefully means that you are carrying on the tradition of being part fish.  I grew up a swimmer and so your momma, auntie Becca and Uncle Trevor learned to swim very early on and to this day, all love the water. Someday, you and Nana will have a little swim race ok?

The best part of being your Nana is and always will be watching you grow and change ~ to see the changes from infant to toddler; the boy into the young man; and then hopefully, watch you grow to adulthood and into the man I see in your sweet baby face. Your expressions are priceless as you take in and work over all that your world gives you. I know you are bound for great and wondrous things by all the thinking I know is going on in that noggin of yours and I can’t wait to be a part of them!

You are now a member of a growing, crazy, loud, happy, protective, conversant, very loving family. We don’t always agree but we love each other fiercely. We laugh and cry often. We love to play and explore far and wide. We enjoy music, theatre, reading, writing, arts, the outdoors and so much more. You no doubt will do the same. You will find your spot somewhere in the midst of all of that. It will be a blast and quite a ride of that you can be sure.

Know that to the best of my ability, I will be here for you anytime you need me. I will be one of your biggest fans. I will be the giver of endless kisses. The listening ear when you need someone other than mom and dad. The proud displayer of art work.  The keeper of gum and mints. And lip gloss -though you won’t be interested in that. ;)

I love you beyond words and time.

Nana

Summer 2012 Recap, Part 1: Drake

 Labor Day weekend is long gone. Students have been back to school for weeks now (my husband included!). The evenings are starting to cool off and people are excited to bust out their jeans and sweaters. All of the social and cultural factors have been lining up for a while.  And now, it’s official. The Fall Equinox is here. Summer is over.

So I thought it was a good moment to pause, take a breath, and get back to this here blog of mine.

Drake, I want you to know that I didn’t stop writing in your online baby book because there was nothing exciting going on to tell you about or because your development became any less thrilling to me – quite the opposite, my son! We have been so busy living such a full life. And you! You have grown so much and so fast and so profoundly! You are moving and learning and vocalizing.

You have been getting around pretty well all summer – you perfected a military crawl several months ago. It was so effective, I wasn’t sure you would ever care to learn how to actually crawl on your knees. But about a week ago, you got it. And now, you are literally unstoppable. You are getting anywhere and everywhere – fast! You even started climbing the stairs – cute, but terrifying. Sure enough, you rolled down a few steps two days ago. It’s high time for some baby gates. You and I have errands to run later today…

 You are also sitting up incredibly well. This may not seem as impressive as the crawling, but it baffles me possibly more than the crawling does. You just look so big when you sit up so tall and sturdy like that. And it wasn’t even a process! You just DID it. One day, about a month ago, you just tucked your knees under you, pushed yourself up, and then turned and looked at me like, "What? No big deal." Now you crawl where you want to go, slide your legs under you, and sit and play with your desired object – you know, like electrical cords and box fans and dog bowls. Very appropriate toys.

In the world of “firsts,” there has been a lot going on. You said your first word about six weeks ago and haven’t stopped saying it since. What was it, you ask? Well, in a move that melted your momma’s heart yet again, you said “Momma” before any other word. It is so good to be loved by you, Little Man.

You went on your first airplane ride and went swimming for the first time when we visited the Tennessee clan this past July. You did great on the plane – it wasn’t the fun and restful trip that Mom has been used to in her life with the addition of you on my lap – but every stewardess commented on how good you were. On each leg of our trip, there was a baby that screamed and cried and kept everyone awake but it was never you. We were proud parents, for sure. 

 I was equally as proud and excited to see how much you loved the water when we went swimming in Nana and Pampa’s neighborhood pool. There was no fear whatsoever, even when I tried the blow-in-your-face-and-dunk trick. Your eyes got big, but you did great. Held your breath and decided to smile despite the shock. Between that and your very vigorous and strong kicking in the bathtub, I just know you’re going to be a great swimmer. It’s in your genes. 

 On a much less happy note, you were diagnosed with a little “condition” this summer. At the end of an extremely heart wrenching process, we found out you had something called Anal Stenosis. It basically means that your little bottom was too small. After eleven days without being able to go to the bathroom and a trip to the emergency room in Chattanooga that involved an enema and the most heart breaking hour and a half yet, it was our wonderful pediatrician here at home that finally told us what was going on. Mom had been feeling extremely guilty because the nurse practitioner in Tennessee had told us it was constipation from the foods I’d been feeding you that caused the cramping and screaming and pain that I had seen you go through for days. I was devastated that the bananas and rice cereal I had been so pleased to give you had caused you so much pain. Turns out, it wasn’t your diet at all. It was your hardware. That being said, Dr. Reynolds recommended that we go back to a strictly breast milk diet – well, breast milk and prune juice - to keep your stools as soft as possible while the situation sorted itself out. Yes, that was the good news! It was something you would grow out of simply through the process of… well… pooping. It would gradually stretch out, though it would be a slower than normal and slightly uncomfortable process. We had to learn to use at home enemas and mom had to chug gallons and gallons of water to keep her milk supply up to snuff (your appetite had grown used to the bulk of solid foods and it wasn’t easy to deprive you of it). But, I am happy to announce, you are doing MUCH better. Over the past couple of weeks, you have been pooping easily and frequently. I have even been able to reintroduce a few purees over the past week! I mixed in a little prune juice, just to be on the safe side, and – so far! – all is going well. I hope it is something that is behind us now.

 It’s hard to condense the past several months of change into one blog post (if only I had been keeping up with it, right?) but I want you to know it’s been a great summer. It’s been a pleasure to watch you grow and explore and just to BE your mom. I saw a commercial for laundry soap, of all things, today that said “you will have a child forever, but a baby for only one year.” What?! You won’t be my baby after one year?! But that is almost over! Agh. I can hardly stand the thought of how soon we will be celebrating your first birthday (though I am so proud to see you grow). I hereby vow to savor every day of your baby hood from today until it’s over, and then to celebrate the next phase with you too.

(And I hope to write a little more about it along the way.)

Like I've already won

I know I haven't blogged in, well - forever - and I should really be telling you about my son's incredible development (he is seconds away from crawling! video to come) or maybe about the awesome progress that is being made on our first home. But, instead, the thing that has motivated to write my first post in weeks is a prize giveaway.
I know, I know. Silly of me.
But it's a freaking Ergobaby Bundle of Joy carrier! And I have wanted one so badly since I saw my beautiful friend Katie carrying her gorgeous little girl Scarlett in one. They are great for people with bad backs (me) and can be used all the way until your child is a toddler (or your infant is huge, like mine). I have a very pathetic excuse for a carrier (a department store knock off of an Ergobaby) that kills my shoulders and back so you can understand why I was so excited to see that Mandy at She Breathes Deeply was hosting a prize giveaway. 
I'm so excited right now, you'd think I'd already won. Somehow, it just feels like it's meant for me.

Home

It's a funny thing. For me, it's more of a sense than a thing. I have lived in some places for months without them ever quite feeling like home. Other spaces have felt like home before I moved in the first box. And it's not just about shelter. It's about location, too. But mostly it's about people. My  husband and son make any house home on some level. And yet the house we're in now is one of those that has never quite felt right. It's not ours; it doesn't suit our needs; it isn't what we would pick for ourselves. But that is all about to change.
We bought a house last Friday. But we didn't buy just any house. We bought our house.
Our home.
 It felt like home the first time I saw it (almost three months ago now). It was full of outdated Grandma-y decor and really, really bad carpet, but I loved it. We put an offer in almost immediately but, sadly, got out-bid. I was beyond heartbroken but, mostly for my husband's sake, tried to keep my chin up. "There will be other good ones," I told myself.
The next time we went house hunting, I tried hard to keep my ex-realtor Dad's tough-love advice in mind: "You can't have that house. It's gone. Forget about it." But I couldn't. I compared everything to it and was completely underwhelmed by my new options. Justin felt the same but chose to let his practical mind take over. My emotions were, as usual, overshadowing my otherwise logical self.
After a few weeks of that, it was a relief to us both when our realtor called to ask if we wanted to put another offer on the first house, as the other buyers' offer had fallen through. Yes! Yes! Yes! A big, emphatic no-hesitations, "Yes!"
In the nearly six weeks since then, a lot has factored into our level of excitement over the new house: financial worries, leaving my home town, the stress of packing. But through it all, I've never doubted for a moment that this is the house for us. What I did doubt was that the proverbial "they" of the world was actually going to give it to us. The seller was going to back out; the appraiser was going to tank the deal; the bank was going to decide "Just kidding! We don't like your credit score after all."
But none of that happened.
On Friday afternoon, the title company receptionist very unceremoniously handed us a manila folder full of plastic baggies full of keys labeled, "garage and greenhouse," "back door," "front door," and "oddball." We drove out of the parking lot like we were afraid they were going to realize their mistake and take them back.
As we drove into Three Forks, I took in everything around us. The old abandoned train station; the tiny coffee shack for sale; the Chinese restaurant with big red letters.  I turned to Justin and said, "Hey, we live here now."
"Yeah, that's what I was just thinking. Weird."
At the house, Justin swept me up and carried me across the threshold and we giggled and kissed and freaked out and generally relished in it for a minute.
Then we got straight to destroying it.
We tore up carpet in some corner of each bedroom and were ecstatic to find old hardwood floors under most of them. They are going to take some hard lovin to get back to pretty but they are there! I accidentally broke the cat door in the front porch. The second you become homeowners, right? Oh well, we don't have a cat.
We ran around doing funny things like tasting the water from the tap - good! - and testing the garage door openers.
I still can hardly believe it.
It belongs to us.
Tomorrow we start the messy job of tearing it apart a bit. A couple of walls are coming out. The - hardwood! - floors are getting refinished. We have so many plans. Because we can. Because it's our first home.
Drake will crawl there for the first time. He will say his first words. He'll take his first steps.
Next week, the three of us are moving home.

Celebrating Parenthood: Mother's Day/Father's Day Numero Uno

What's not to celebrate when this is your kid? I mean, really?

I could not have asked for a more perfect day for my first Mother's Day. Firstly, every day is a gift with this handsome little man. Secondly, I was lucky enough to celebrate with the whole fam damily, which is a freaking miracle these days. My brother and soon to be sister-in-law just happened to be in town (they live outside of Portland these days) for their good friends' wedding. My brother-in-law was also home - another rare bird - from the oil fields so we were all together for the first time since Christmas.
We all gathered at the Main Momma's house, had delicious food (smoked salmon with capers and cream cheese on a cheddar bagel anyone? mmmmm), drank some mimosas, soaked up the spring rays, and generally just enjoyed the hell out of each other's company. The kiddos played on the grass, Drake had his first taste of pineapple: all good.

Sadly, I couldn't make as big a to do for Father's Day seeing as my hard working hubby has all of about three waking hours with us on Sunday's (and Saturday's for that matter). However, I did wake him up with coffee ready and surprised him with some fun loot. I got him an antique coffee grinder that we can refinish/remount - an intended "first home project" for our new house (yes, we're buying a house! more on this later), a vintage poster of his home town, Franklin, TN as an attempt at a "thank you" for all the things I know he misses and has given up to make a home with us here. Then, of course, I got him some beer and a new pint glass. This is essential.
My Dad joined us for our short, but sweet, Father's Day. (I had actually been lucky enough to spend the earlier part of the day with him - No Sweat breakfast and a down town stroll - but asked him to come over rather than cut the day short). I made banana pancakes like the ones I had seen on skinnytaste.com (I'm obsessed! She's amazing!) but threw in some little airplanes to celebrate Justin's new undertaking to become a pilot. Hearts and airplanes: those go together, right? We had bacon, white trash mimosas - and even some home made coconut syrup that Dad whipped up! - and brunch was to die for.
Then  Justin was back to business - getting himself ready for work. But for a brief couple of hours, it was so nice to dote on him. I try to make sure he knows every day just how much I appreciate him - how much I see that he does for us all the time - but it was nice to have a day to say, "Hey, you rock at this fatherhood thing and I love the hell out of you for it."

Little Lion Cub

This is how Nana Amy described Drake and his new-found voice: "Like a little lion cub who's figuring out his roar." Such a cute image to me. Which is fitting. Cuz my son is basically the cutest thing since sliced bread. (Is sliced bread cute? Either way...)
It really is a roar, too. Along side figuring out that he has vocal chords that - whoa! - produce sound! Drake has also discovered a little emotion we like to call "anger." But it's like he's playing with the idea. "I think I'll be mad at you for a minute, Dad. Let me try: eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeAGHHH!" (Arch! Flail! Frown!) "How was that?" And then he laughs. Funny kid.

Letters to My Son

My sweet boy,

Just now, I let the door to your bedroom (slash, Daddy’s office and the way to the bathroom) fall closed a little abruptly and I woke you up with a cry. I cringed and scolded myself for being so careless but you sucked your binkie back into your mouth and fell back asleep within a few seconds. Disaster averted.

We’ve been having a rough go of it the last couple of days, you and me. You’ve been a tired and cranky boy who doesn’t want to eat and doesn’t want to sleep. So unlike you. I think you may finally be getting ready to pop out a couple of teeth like you’ve been threatening to do for two months now.

But here is what I want you to know: your “rough” day is another baby’s great day. You are literally the easiest, happiest little boy I have ever met. If you fuss at me for a minute or two before getting to eat, I’m shocked at you. That’s unheard of, my son. You, in all your perfection, are a rarity on this earth.

I’m going to tell you something that maybe some moms would not: your Dad and I were not trying to have kids when I got pregnant with you. Don’t get me wrong! We wanted kids; we just didn’t think we were ready. But God obviously knew what he was doing. Within moments of knowing you were inside me, my greatest fear was that something would happen to you. Within moments of seeing you for the first time, I loved you more than I have ever loved anyone on this earth. Within a few short weeks, I could no longer imagine my life without you. Over the past six months, I’ve almost forgotten what life was like before you.

You are my whole world.

There are so many things that I want for you, my son, but more than anything I want you to know that you are loved and supported. Always and in everything. Sometimes, when I’m sitting with you on the couch or cuddling with you in bed, I get a little heart achey for a second because I know that you won’t remember any of this – these moments that are so special to me will only be known to you through these letters and pictures and stories I tell. But I console myself with the thought that you will come away from it knowing how much I love you. You will emerge into awareness – that magical barrier you cross into memory making years – knowing that I love you. You won’t be able to put your finger on where that knowledge came from originally; you won’t be able to point at the time you first knew it. But you’ll know it. I’m going to make sure of that.

I love you, my handsome.

Always and Forever,

Mom