All The Leaves

Two things I love immensely: Autumn, and this almost three year old Little Boy.

these are the moments...

Our poor, sweet boy woke up sad this morning. He's been teething again, and I think the discomfort woke him up before he was actually ready to be done sleeping. Sleepy and sad, he needed some cuddles. I was, of course, happy to oblige. I scooped him up with his blanket and his Lovey and joined Daddy on the couch. Daddy wrapped his arm around us both and said, "Good morning, family."
There it was, Emily. The moment to hold on to. Moments that will be gone before I know it. Moments with a sweet, chubby little boy in a diaper. Moments in the quiet morning with just Mommy and Daddy and Drake. Moments when life feels complete and perfect.
Five minutes later, his diaper rode up without me realizing and he peed all over me and the couch.

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

Birthday Day

{Alternately titled: Marriage Update: My Husband is Amazing}

My birthday isn't actually  until this Saturday - I'll be 26 - but we celebrated yesterday because the Hubs works weekends. Justin made an all day event out of it. He brought me some pre-breakfast yogurt in bed (cuz I was starving) and then brought me my first present: a gorgeous pair of brown leather boots. (The hunt for the right pair of boots has been a long-standing one - my poor Hubby has tried several times to get me the right ones, only to be foiled by my wide feet or my big calves or my distaste for synthetic materials. Sadly, yesterday's gift was another strike - big calves - but they really were gorgeous. He did a great job picking them out.)  For a full breakfast, he took me to the No Sweat. Mmmmm, the No Sweat. If you live in Helena (or within a reasonable drive, even) and you haven't had breakfast at the No Sweat, I'm slightly concerned about your mental health. Because you're crazy. It's delicious. It was the perfect start to my birthday celebration. We sat in one of the worn, wooden booths next to the glorious heater, ate big piles of freshly shredded hash browns and thick cut ham and melty, gooey cheese and sipped coffee and talked and laughed and sang along with the Motown tracks that were playing in the background.Yes.

From there, we loaded Drake into the backpack carrier and walked down the street to Sole Sisters to return my gorgeous boots. I tried on another size, but nothing worked. They were either too tight in the calves or too big in the feet. Poor Justin: he was seriously bummed. But it wasn't all bad! I strolled around the store, stroking and admiring the gorgeous selections of girly dresses and flowy tops and shoes that could be on display in an art museum more readily than worn on your feet. I found a soft blush dress with tiny grey polka dots that made me feel pretty.

From there, we took Justin to the chiropractor, then on to lunch at The Red Atlas, complete with an It's-My-Birthday-Beer.

And then! The highlight of my month: a 75 minute massage from Amy at Lazy Owl Massage. Glory. Completely relaxed on a massage table with a heating pad, sublime smells of massage oils and lotions, the [recorded] sounds of the ocean. In a word: heaven.

After that luxurious experience, Justin took me home for a lazy afternoon of lounging in bed with my two favorite men in the world, watching Midnight in Paris, and flipping through pictures of beautiful homes online - day dreaming about the kind of house we'll have one day.

My beautiful mother picked up Drake around 6 p.m. and I was free to get ready without distraction or time constraint. A hot shower (shaved legs!), blow dried and styled hair, full makeup - all in preparation for the culmination of my wonderful day: date night with my handsome husband.

He took me to the Mediterranean Grill and we stuffed ourselves with fresh and yummy food like lamb brochettes, caprese salad, swordfish with basmati rice and seasoned veggies, kunefe for dessert - all accompanied by a fabulous bottle of Earthquake Zin from my old hometown (Lodi, CA). We enjoyed the hell out of the food and the wine and each other's company. We talked about all the adventures we still want to have someday. We got sentimental and made toasts to each other. We promised to never let it get old.

Towards the end of the evening, we saw our good friends Jesse and Porter walk by and invited them in to finish our bottle of wine with us, then joined them a few doors down for a proper cocktail at Miller's Crossing. I blew $15 in the slot machines hoping I could get lucky on my birthday, we laughed at me and how easily I get tipsy these days, and then I started missing little mister. We picked him up and were home in bed before midnight.

The day was better than perfect. I am so grateful to be married to a man who will go to such lengths to make me feel so incredibly special. As much as life may change, as many children as we may have, as busy as it all may get, I hope we never stop doing this -taking a day to celebrate each other - because that's where it all began.

Describing the indescribable

There has never been anything bigger that has happened to me; never anything more important than the birth of my son. I should be gushing with words of love and amazement, but for some reason, I can't seem to.
I feel them - the love and amazement. Believe me, I do. But I can't think them. I can't assign them words, organize them into thoughts.
I started this blog for two reasons: 1- to practice this thing I love to do: write. And 2- to record the magic of my pregnancy and the birth of my first child. To put words to the moments that leave you speechless. Because that's what this journey into parenthood is: a series of brand new experiences that knock the wind out of you over and over again. Its impossibly overwhelming.
But for a while there, I was doing pretty well with both objectives. I found ways to tell you about the amazing - or sometimes, not so amazing - things that were happening to me. I captured the way I felt when I found out I was pregnant and when I first heard his heart beat.
But then something happened. I'm not sure exactly when, but at some point this experience grew beyond my grasp. The moments and the emotions stretched beyond my ability to relate to you.
They were officially indescribable.
So here I am, left wanting to tell you about the way my incredible little boy has changed my life, about how much I love every square inch of him, but there literally aren't words.
All that I have are overused, insufficient phrases:
Nothing will ever be the same.
I wouldn't trade it for anything.
I love him more than anything else in this world.
I would do anything for him.

All true. And yet there's so, so much more than that.
I'll keep looking for the words - and I'll let you know when I find them.

A long, looong overdue post

Hi. :}
Sorry about the extended absence. By way of simple explanation: my brain hurt. I was too tired to focus on writing anything coherent and, simultaneously, a little too worried about it. I felt myself worrying about updating my blog for all the wrong reasons - basically everything accept the original goal of keeping a sort of online baby book for myself and my son. So I gave myself a break until I got back to a place of wanting to post an update, not feeling like I had to.

We took a hike up by the Gibson Reservoir on Saturday - great day with my hubby and the puppies.

I'm 30 weeks! Sooooo crazy. 30 weeks and 3 days if we're being picky. I feel HUGE but am increasingly more and more ok with it - especially now that, thanks to my sister and wonderful friend Jaime, I have expanded my maternity wardrobe a bit.
Sleeping is, surprisingly, getting easier. I'm either just used to the discomfort or figuring out better positions for rest - possibly both. I get worn out easily (took a 30 minute light hike today, followed by an hour long nap) but the constant fatigue seems to be easing off a bit.
My son moves so, so, SO much. To be honest, some times it kind of grosses me out. Most times though, it's fun to be reminded of his presence in my day.
We have officially transferred care to the Birth Place in Bozeman with Stacey Haugland and will be going back for our second visit with her this Thursday morning. It feels really good to have found an avenue for my goal. Now, if everyone would just join me in the prayer that I make it past 36 weeks so I can deliver with her and have a nice, smoothly progressing labor so we can make the drive.... :) That would be greatly appreciated.
I'm more in love with my husband every day. This could be filed under "normal," "marriage," or "every day" but it seems appropriate in the baby blog, too. We are experiencing one of the most profound transformations of our lives - and we're doing it together. On this past Sunday - dubbed by my hubby "Sentimental Sunday" because he thinks he tends to think about things more on that day - Justin said to me, "I love you more and more the bigger your belly gets. It is a direct correlation." I smiled and asked him what would happen when the belly went away. He said simply, "It'll stay."

I am going to have some serious smile lines around my eyes when I'm older! :)

Letter to My Son

Dear Son,

Do you know that I love you? Every time you jump inside of me, my heart jumps with you. Even when it keeps me awake at night. Yes, it would be great if you wanted to sleep when I do, but I’ll take the  midnight bumps and kicks if it means having you.

I’ve been having the sensation of missing you lately. Odd, since I haven’t really met you yet. But I read this book that tells me how you’re growing each week and you should be nearing three pounds by now. Three pounds! You weren’t even a pound yet the last time I got to see you in an ultrasound. And so now I feel like I need to know how you’ve changed. Could I see your fingers more clearly? Would you let me get a better look at your face? You were so shy (or annoyed?) last time. You kept turning away from the ultrasound or shielding your face with your hands.

I day dream about what you will look like. Dark haired and dark eyed? Or blonde and blue eyed, maybe, like your cousin. You’re sure to have big, chubby cheeks. There’s no getting around that one, I’m afraid, with your Dad and I for parents. If I run down the list of features, I generally end up hoping you get most of them from your Dad. He’s just so handsome. But no matter whose side of the family you take after, I know you’re going to be perfect and I can’t wait to kiss your tiny nose and nibble on your puffy feet. (I’m sorry – you’ll just have to put up with that. I get it from my Mom – your Nana – the urge to bite things that are cute. Your Nana calls those bite-worthy bits Sweet Meat. Maybe it makes us a little weird, but I promise it’s a sign of affection.)

Even more than I wonder what you will look like, I wonder about what you will be like. Quiet and serious? Or wild and funny? Will you love to read? (I’m reading Jane Eyre to you right now. It’s not likely to turn out to be your favorite book, but maybe you will inherit my love of reading if I read something that I adore. Plus I’m hoping you’ll be attached to the sound of my voice.) Or would you rather run around outside and invent new worlds for your games? I hope you’ll do plenty of both.

I had a dream last night that you were here. I was lying in my bed, holding you. Some other things happened in the dream but you were the only part that made me a little sad when I woke up. I was sad to find that you were not there for me to hold and to kiss.

I can’t wait to meet you. I tear up at the beautiful promise of the moment I get to hold you in my arms. But on some level, I’m going to miss this: the constant companionship of you being a physical part of me. The constant bumps to remind me you are ok. Not just ok, but healthy and strong. I already fret about how out of control it will feel to have you separated from me. It makes me a little nervous for the years that are to come. I’m apologizing right now if I turn out to be one of those obsessive, worry wart mothers when you are a teenager and young man. I promise to do my best to fight the urge to control and protect, and to just let you be you. To make your own mistakes. To forge your own way. To learn to believe in yourself.

But for now, I’m glad to have you where you are. I will keep you safely in here for a few more months. Know that I love you more than I ever knew possible.

Love,

Mom

This guy

 

On  Monday, I will have been married to my best friend for two years and I still can't believe how lucky I got when he picked me. Prepare yourself - I'm going to gush for a moment now.

He's a sucker for me. 

That's what he has starting saying the last few weeks. The first time was during an animal shelter commercial on tv - I got my sad eyes, as I always do where animals are involved, and he shook his head and chuckled. "Oh Wife, you're such a sucker for everything!" (He's right here: the usual - orphans on tv, abused cats and dogs - but also - squished squirrels on the side of the road, the dead bird my dog drags in, a mouse stuck in a trap...) "I'm a sucker for you," he continued, "and you are a sucker for everything." He was poking fun at me, but it was also one of the most endearing things he has ever said. He can't resist me. Which, of course, makes me a sucker for him, too.

He's always, always there for me.

As a kid I had night terrors - nightmares that trapped me inside their terrifying worlds. Recurring dreams about being caught by some killer in a pink bubble gum trap, or lost in a giant black maze desperate for my mom, or hiding in the corner of complete blackness while giant voices boomed and a baby cried - and my parents couldn't shake me out of them.They sound silly now, but they were pretty traumatizing actually. As an adult, nightmares - twisted, intense, and oh so real nightmares - have continued to trouble me. I can wake myself up now, most of the time, but they still seem to have a grip on me. For several long minutes after I wake up, part of my brain and body remains seized by the raw emotion of the dream, whatever it may be. Fear. Anxiety. Sadness. And so, every now and again, I wake up crying and can't stop myself. But for the last two years, God has blessed me with something else that won't loosen its hold on me: my husband. The sound of my shaky tears wakes him up and he's instantly surrounding me. He lays there with me, no matter the time, no matter how tired, until it's over. Then he does his best to get my mind off of it. Make me talk about what I want for dinner that night - anything - until I'm calm enough to go back to sleep. This morning started exactly this way, which is a large part of what prompted this post.

Sometimes we fight, but we're never mean.

We got into a bit of an argument last night - a pretty rare occurrence, I'm grateful to be able to say. I'm a bit emotional these days, though, so it's not terribly surprising that I overreacted to some news he had for me. There was no yelling - just emotional and un-thought out responses. A few minutes in he said, "Geez, babe. I came home excited to tell you about this and you're kind of ripping me apart." My heart sank immediately. We've never been the kind of couple to beat each other up verbally. Even when we disagree - strongly - we care enough about each other to think through what we want to say. We never try to zing each other and I'm so, so grateful for that. I've known couples to say things for meanness sake, to fling purposefully biting words at one another in the heat of a fight. Most of them regret it later, apologize and makeup. But I'm a believer that those little wounds never completely heal. Words can not ever truly be taken back. God has blessed me with a husband too considerate, respectful and loving to take the chance, and I will fight like hell to make sure I never become the kind of wife who would. Needless to say, we took a pause from the discussion last night, took a few deep breaths, and then talked through it much more successfully.

He's going to be the best dad.

I've said it over and over again, because I believe it whole heartedly - and have since I met him four years ago. He just has a way about him. Gentleness - but the ability to be firm. Humor - without every failing to take the serious things serious. Responsibility - tempered by a strong sense of adventure. I couldn't be prouder to call him my husband and now, the father of my child. This morning, after I finished crying and telling him about the ravioli dinner I planned to make tonight, he gave me the most precious and unprompted compliment. Squeezing me, he said, "You're going to be the best mom ever." I might have leaked a few more tears at that point, but mostly my heart just swelled up.

And a 1,000 other things.... 

God, I love him.

I love you, Justin Waugh. I can't wait to turn our 2 years into 10. And then 20. And then 50....

Feeling grateful

Justin finally got to feel the baby kick last night. So far, every time he lays his hand on my tummy, the baby freezes. Or falls asleep. I’m not sure which. Justin says he feels ok about it – it’s probably a good thing for him to have a calming effect over our kids. But I have felt like I’m experiencing these tiny little miracles every day and with every bump and there is no one in the world I’d rather share it with. I felt supremely grateful last night when baby kicked its daddy good and hard. It’s inside of me, but it is part of Justin. And now he has experienced it too. I loved seeing the smile I've been wearing for weeks finally sweep over his face.

This morning he picked up his guitar for the first time in months. Over the past four years, I have loved listening to him play. His first Christmas gift to me was the lyrics to a song he wrote, pasted inside of a scrapbook intended to hold our future holiday memories. He proposed the next Christmas with a second song. The funny thing is, I have never liked those guys who play music to impress girls. Please don’t serenade me, you cheese ball. But one of the most endearing things about my husband is his humility and sincerity. There is not an ounce of cocky in him. And now this morning, he is quietly practicing next to me on the couch and I can just imagine him leading a sing-a-long with our kids and teaching them how to play.

How did I get so lucky to have this man?

I can laugh about it now...

But it wasn't really all that funny at the time.
I got into the shower with a stomach on the edge of nausea. A little voice told me to eat before I got in my shower but I ignored it [mistake #1], desperate for a hot shower that was too long in coming. And it was glorious - it really was - but by the time I got out, food had moved from a good idea to a straight up necessity.
Enter my devilish husband.
He comes into the bathroom and tries to seduce me! And, of course, it worked. [mistake #2] I can't resist a handsome man who loves me, can you?
Ok. Fast forward. (Let's keep things PG, shall we?)
I saw a movie a long time ago (aprox. 16 years old - parents out of town - Blockbuster Movie Rentals - me unaware that 'not rated' probably means 'way way worse than R rated') that included a love scene after which the young, no-longer-virgin girl begins to cry. I just couldn't understand it. How ridiculous, I thought. You just had sex with a totally hot guy! What is your deal?
If I didn't have pregnancy hormones to blame it on, I would now be asking myself the same question. But with good reason this time! I really outdid that girl. I didn't just leak a few tears. I sobbed. I ran to the bathroom sobbing. I hit the ground in front of the toilet - sobbing. I sat there, on my hands and knees, sure I was going to throw up. Naked. And sobbing.
Like I said, I can laugh about it now...