As he sleeps, I study his face (mostly because it's the only time he's still).
His eyes are a piercing shade of light blue. Obviously they are closed, but I know them like I know my own eyes. When they look at me I melt completely. I can tell by looking at them whether he's sad, happy or being mischievous (which is a lot lately).
His skin is milky white. So pale, like his mommy's, that you can even see veins sometimes. It makes him look so fragile. He has bumps and bruises and bug bites all over his legs, but he's the bravest little guy I know. He even helps daddy kill spiders because he knows mommy is afraid of them.
His hair is wild! Sandy blonde like the beaches we so often play on. Completely unkempt, even after moose, and he wouldn't have it any other way. He's definitely all boy!
He has these wonderfully full, pink lips that any woman would pay big money for. I remember seeing them in an ultrasound when we got a profile shot. Sometimes when he's sleeping, I kiss them and he puckers like it's an automatic reaction.
His voice and his laughter are the best. His demeanor is so sweet, just like the sound of his voice. He tells mommy and daddy to "be careful" because we are always saying that to him. He gives kisses all the time and tells us he loves us. When he laughs, it's an uninhibited giggle. He laughs honestly because he feels it and not because he is expected to (like we do as adults).
There are so many things I notice now that I have a child. I look at things so differently. When I look at things through his eyes it's like I am seeing them for the first time again. Whether it is Disney World, a simple wildflower growing in the lawn or how much fun it is to laugh without restraint.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Monday, June 30, 2008
Letting Go
OK, so I have 2 months to go and I already feel like a big ol' Rollie Pollie. It takes 2 tries to get out of bed in the morning. Oh, and don't get me started on our chaise lounge. It's so comfy, but I need a crane to get out of it.
We went swimming yesterday at my dad's house. I actually like my swimsuit. It's a very cute, empire waist tankini in brown and white. Anyway, my dad was trying to get Reilly to use his inter tube in the water, but he would have nothing to do with it at first. So my dad got his inter tube and showed Reilly how to put it over his head and around his waist and he finally got it.
At first, I was holding him because I was afraid he would slip through the middle. He kept saying, "Let go mommy!" I was too afraid, not Reilly, but me! I would let go and then secretly hold on to the back, but he quickly caught on. He never got frustrated with me, but he finally turned to me (this is my 2-year-old) and said, "Mommy, let go. I can do it by myself. I be careful!"
And so I let go!
He was such a big boy. He swam all over that pool, clutching the inter tube and kicking his legs just as fast as he could. Every once in awhile his mouth would dip down in the water a little and he would spit the water out and readjust himself on the tube. He did this all day. He kept saying, "Look at me mommy. I swimming!"
I know my son will always love me and need me, but I guess it's time to let go a little. He's got to explore the world. And I am sure there will be some bumps and bruises along the way. I think as long as we teach him morals and keep loving him as much as we possibly can, he'll hopefully make the right decisions (most of the time). After all, I definitely had some bumps and bruises growing up, and I think I turned out OK.
We went swimming yesterday at my dad's house. I actually like my swimsuit. It's a very cute, empire waist tankini in brown and white. Anyway, my dad was trying to get Reilly to use his inter tube in the water, but he would have nothing to do with it at first. So my dad got his inter tube and showed Reilly how to put it over his head and around his waist and he finally got it.
At first, I was holding him because I was afraid he would slip through the middle. He kept saying, "Let go mommy!" I was too afraid, not Reilly, but me! I would let go and then secretly hold on to the back, but he quickly caught on. He never got frustrated with me, but he finally turned to me (this is my 2-year-old) and said, "Mommy, let go. I can do it by myself. I be careful!"
And so I let go!
He was such a big boy. He swam all over that pool, clutching the inter tube and kicking his legs just as fast as he could. Every once in awhile his mouth would dip down in the water a little and he would spit the water out and readjust himself on the tube. He did this all day. He kept saying, "Look at me mommy. I swimming!"
I know my son will always love me and need me, but I guess it's time to let go a little. He's got to explore the world. And I am sure there will be some bumps and bruises along the way. I think as long as we teach him morals and keep loving him as much as we possibly can, he'll hopefully make the right decisions (most of the time). After all, I definitely had some bumps and bruises growing up, and I think I turned out OK.
Friday, May 30, 2008
A Little Off Topic.....but yummy
I just met the new "Special Guest Host" at HSN. He is our new fitness and sports expert. When I first saw him from across the room, I thought, "He looks very familiar." Then it clicked!!! Maven from WWE Wrestling. He was the first winner of the reality series "Tough Enough," a competition to become the next WWE wrestler.
For those of you who may not know, when I was weight training and working out hard a few years back (5 or 6 to be exact), my crew at HSN and I thought it would be funny if we submitted a tape of me for this very same reality show. It worked! They called me back 3 times and I made it all the way to the semi-finals in New Orleans. I was on the first episode, in a blooper reel, and was ready to make the final cut when they gave me the bad news - I was no longer needed :(
For something I didn't know I wanted, I was pretty disappointed. I thought I had it in the bag. I guess my 3 prior knee surgeries may have been a deciding factor for them to let me go. So back to obscurity I went, and 3 weeks later I met my future husband and man-of-my-dreams, Dave. Fate I tell ya!
So back to this new "host." Now you all know I love my husband dearly. But I'm not dead! Before I go any further, I must show you a picture:
Excuse the drool on my computer keyboard. He is not only THIS good looking in person, but he is super-nice and super-approachable. Of course I had to introduce myself and tell him that I was on the third installment of Tough Enough. Here I am 6-months + pregnant and he looked at me and said, "You really wanted to be a wrestler?" I said it was my past life and we talked for a good 5 or 10 minutes. He actually said that he had heard of me because my friends in broadcast had mentioned that a girl at HSN was on that show too (for 3 seconds). I am sure I giggled like a school girl the entire time and probably flipped my hair like an idiot, but it made my whole weekend!
Other than bragging rights, there really is no purpose for this post. Check him out on HSN. You can see when he's on if you go to www.hsn.com.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Remembering Yula, Harry and Jenny Jones (sorry this is a sad one)
My Memorial Day Tribute:
I have lost a lot of people dear to me in the past few years.
My grandmother, who we called Yula, was my kindred spirit. She was the spunkiest grandma I've ever known. She knew more about sports than most men, in her prime she could throw a mean fast ball and she still looked like a glamorous movie star til the end. She was a florist, and every time I stopped by the shop she would give me a carnation. They always smelled the prettiest. And she always made me homemade pimento cheese sandwich! I've never been able to duplicate that recipe. And no one will ever be able to duplicate my Yulee!
My brother Harry. My younger brother Harry is technically my step-brother. Our parents have been married for 25 years, so really he is much more than just a "step-brother." We grew up together. My first memory of meeting him was when we went to a carnival and my little brother Geoff was still in a stroller, so Harry had to be maybe 4. Which means Nick was probably 6 and I was 5. Can you imagine having 4 kids all within the ages of 2 and 6? My step-sister is a few years older, and even though she's one of my best friends now, she wanted nothing to do with us back then. I guess I wouldn't have either ;-P
Harry was the life of the party! He was the jokester! He put everyone else's needs in front of his. He was a booger too! Practical-joker, pain-in-the-asser! The 4 of us used to beat the crap out of each other, but if anyone messed with us we were a team. He unfortunately passed at the VERY young age of 23. September 8th, 2001. This day will forever haunt me. When someone close to you dies, you always think there is something you could have done to save them. However, my biggest regret is not telling him all the time how much I loved him. How he was a real brother to me, blood or not. I hope he knows now and I hope he has found peace.
My good friend, Jenny Jones. She's been on my mind lately because her 29th birthday would have been Wednesday. She only passed this past November from a car accident.
Jen was a mother without a child. She was one of Reilly's godmother's. If you could have seen her face light up every time she saw him, you would know what I mean. After Reilly was born she and Amy were at my house almost every day. She would tell me to go take a nap and she had everything under control, and she did. I don't know how I would have made it through the first few months without her. I think the first time Reilly smiled, it was at her. She cherished every moment she spent with him, and he with her.
This young girl took care of everyone around her. She was a natural nurturer. She had a tough exterior and didn't let a lot of people in, but if you were one of the lucky ones, you were in for life. Her laughter was infectious. She was the "Monica," if you will, of our group. The hostess with the mostess! Now that I am embarking on my second shot at motherhood, I will surely miss her even more than I already do.
Death makes me mad! I understand that it eventually happens to everyone. My grandmother got to live a pretty long, happy life. This doesn't make it any less hard when she passed, but it helps the healing process. My brother and Jen, I don't get. I don't think I ever will. I still think about where I was when both incidents happened. I still think about what I could have done to save them. I still wish I could go back to that day and do things differently. They had so much life in front of them. It just doesn't seem fair. The only way I know to deal with it is by remembering the good times, remembering what they stood for and trying to keep their memories alive within myself and with my children. I love and miss you all!
I have lost a lot of people dear to me in the past few years.
My grandmother, who we called Yula, was my kindred spirit. She was the spunkiest grandma I've ever known. She knew more about sports than most men, in her prime she could throw a mean fast ball and she still looked like a glamorous movie star til the end. She was a florist, and every time I stopped by the shop she would give me a carnation. They always smelled the prettiest. And she always made me homemade pimento cheese sandwich! I've never been able to duplicate that recipe. And no one will ever be able to duplicate my Yulee!
My brother Harry. My younger brother Harry is technically my step-brother. Our parents have been married for 25 years, so really he is much more than just a "step-brother." We grew up together. My first memory of meeting him was when we went to a carnival and my little brother Geoff was still in a stroller, so Harry had to be maybe 4. Which means Nick was probably 6 and I was 5. Can you imagine having 4 kids all within the ages of 2 and 6? My step-sister is a few years older, and even though she's one of my best friends now, she wanted nothing to do with us back then. I guess I wouldn't have either ;-P
Harry was the life of the party! He was the jokester! He put everyone else's needs in front of his. He was a booger too! Practical-joker, pain-in-the-asser! The 4 of us used to beat the crap out of each other, but if anyone messed with us we were a team. He unfortunately passed at the VERY young age of 23. September 8th, 2001. This day will forever haunt me. When someone close to you dies, you always think there is something you could have done to save them. However, my biggest regret is not telling him all the time how much I loved him. How he was a real brother to me, blood or not. I hope he knows now and I hope he has found peace.
My good friend, Jenny Jones. She's been on my mind lately because her 29th birthday would have been Wednesday. She only passed this past November from a car accident.
Jen was a mother without a child. She was one of Reilly's godmother's. If you could have seen her face light up every time she saw him, you would know what I mean. After Reilly was born she and Amy were at my house almost every day. She would tell me to go take a nap and she had everything under control, and she did. I don't know how I would have made it through the first few months without her. I think the first time Reilly smiled, it was at her. She cherished every moment she spent with him, and he with her.
This young girl took care of everyone around her. She was a natural nurturer. She had a tough exterior and didn't let a lot of people in, but if you were one of the lucky ones, you were in for life. Her laughter was infectious. She was the "Monica," if you will, of our group. The hostess with the mostess! Now that I am embarking on my second shot at motherhood, I will surely miss her even more than I already do.
Death makes me mad! I understand that it eventually happens to everyone. My grandmother got to live a pretty long, happy life. This doesn't make it any less hard when she passed, but it helps the healing process. My brother and Jen, I don't get. I don't think I ever will. I still think about where I was when both incidents happened. I still think about what I could have done to save them. I still wish I could go back to that day and do things differently. They had so much life in front of them. It just doesn't seem fair. The only way I know to deal with it is by remembering the good times, remembering what they stood for and trying to keep their memories alive within myself and with my children. I love and miss you all!
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Whale of a Summer
I think I did the timing right when I had Reilly; big and fat all through the holidays and colder weather. This time around I am beginning to dread the hot Florida summer I have to look forward to, not to mention the bathing suits I'll be sporting.
One I have looks like a vintage 40's-style swimsuit with a full sweep and gingham print. I guess this is in line with the whole retro revival fashion trend, but when I wear it I pretty much just feel like a whale!
What I really don't understand are those women who only gain weight in the tummy area and then magically reduce their size to normal within 6 weeks after giving birth. Granted these are mostly celebrities who probably have a c-section/tummy tuck procedure all at once, but I know of some women personally who have successfully done this.
I wasn't too bad with Reilly, but this time I swear my ass is growing at the same pace as my belly. And meanwhile, my husband has decided to start jogging again to lose weight for the summer. So while he's losing weight and getting tan, I'll be eating my Oatmeal Cream Pies (YES I ate an entire box in 2 days) and dreading this fall when I have to start trying to figure out how to lose the 40 pounds I will likely put on.
I have come to terms with the fact that things change when you have kids. I no longer greet Dave with candles, high heels and not much else when he gets home from work, and we can't stay up all night watching movies until we pass out at 5 in the morning, but in the end it's all worth it.
Yep, things change! I may have retired my belly ring and acquired a mini-van, but I swear on my kids that I will NEVER be caught wearing "mom jeans!"
One I have looks like a vintage 40's-style swimsuit with a full sweep and gingham print. I guess this is in line with the whole retro revival fashion trend, but when I wear it I pretty much just feel like a whale!
What I really don't understand are those women who only gain weight in the tummy area and then magically reduce their size to normal within 6 weeks after giving birth. Granted these are mostly celebrities who probably have a c-section/tummy tuck procedure all at once, but I know of some women personally who have successfully done this.
I wasn't too bad with Reilly, but this time I swear my ass is growing at the same pace as my belly. And meanwhile, my husband has decided to start jogging again to lose weight for the summer. So while he's losing weight and getting tan, I'll be eating my Oatmeal Cream Pies (YES I ate an entire box in 2 days) and dreading this fall when I have to start trying to figure out how to lose the 40 pounds I will likely put on.
I have come to terms with the fact that things change when you have kids. I no longer greet Dave with candles, high heels and not much else when he gets home from work, and we can't stay up all night watching movies until we pass out at 5 in the morning, but in the end it's all worth it.
Yep, things change! I may have retired my belly ring and acquired a mini-van, but I swear on my kids that I will NEVER be caught wearing "mom jeans!"
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Anaphylactic what?
My son has this whole peanut allergy thing that is becoming a national, no a worldly phenomenon. The first doctor that told us about it was an idiot! She said he has a peanut allergy and if he ever comes in contact with any kind of nut he will DIE! Talk about scaring someone half to death. I think that was when I had my first mental breakdown.
Now, after leaving that crazy bitch of a pediatrician and speaking with a very nice allergy specialist who specializes in children, we are much more informed. In rare cases people have an allergy to peanuts so bad that they cannot even be in the same room with it, much less touch or eat it.
This is not Reilly.
He has been around it and accidentally stuck his hand in it once (don't ask) and had no reaction. I thought this meant that he was possibly not that allergic or maybe not at all. Well, we had our check-up with the good doctor yesterday, and he said that most times the problem comes when the peanuts touch a membrane. So this could be Reilly touching it and then rubbing his eyes or putting his hands in his mouth, or some other kid eats peanut butter and then touches Reilly's eyes or mouth. So not as dire as the bad doctor first said, but still scares the living crap out of me.
Part of me gets mad. I think, I did everything right when I was pregnant with him. I never drank alcohol (or did drugs, but I never did that in the first place). I stayed away from caffeine, lunch meats, shellfish, sushi. I never had more than 1 peanut butter and jelly sandwich a week, which is what the nurse from Morton Plant told me to do. I did everything right and I feel like Reilly is being punished.
I have a friend who ate peanut butter every single day of her pregnancy and her child has no allergies. There are women who smoke and drink when they are pregnant and their kids have no issues.
Why Reilly? I just want to protect him from everything and I feel like this is out of my control. We have epi-pens at home, at school, in the diaper bag. Fears of bullies in school chasing him with peanut butter journey through my mind.
Our doctor is hoping he'll outgrow it. We're going to retest him every year and pray that some sort of cure or immunity comes into play (which they are working on).
After my maddening "why me?" self-pity thoughts come to rest, I then think about all those other mother's who "did everything right" too and they have more issues and "real" handicaps to deal with. I start to feel guilty for my woeful monologues. I need to be thankful for all the things that Reilly is and can do. He's a very healthy, active little boy with the best disposition. I'll just get him signed up for karate classes as soon as he's 4 so those bullies don't stand a chance :)
Now, after leaving that crazy bitch of a pediatrician and speaking with a very nice allergy specialist who specializes in children, we are much more informed. In rare cases people have an allergy to peanuts so bad that they cannot even be in the same room with it, much less touch or eat it.
This is not Reilly.
He has been around it and accidentally stuck his hand in it once (don't ask) and had no reaction. I thought this meant that he was possibly not that allergic or maybe not at all. Well, we had our check-up with the good doctor yesterday, and he said that most times the problem comes when the peanuts touch a membrane. So this could be Reilly touching it and then rubbing his eyes or putting his hands in his mouth, or some other kid eats peanut butter and then touches Reilly's eyes or mouth. So not as dire as the bad doctor first said, but still scares the living crap out of me.
Part of me gets mad. I think, I did everything right when I was pregnant with him. I never drank alcohol (or did drugs, but I never did that in the first place). I stayed away from caffeine, lunch meats, shellfish, sushi. I never had more than 1 peanut butter and jelly sandwich a week, which is what the nurse from Morton Plant told me to do. I did everything right and I feel like Reilly is being punished.
I have a friend who ate peanut butter every single day of her pregnancy and her child has no allergies. There are women who smoke and drink when they are pregnant and their kids have no issues.
Why Reilly? I just want to protect him from everything and I feel like this is out of my control. We have epi-pens at home, at school, in the diaper bag. Fears of bullies in school chasing him with peanut butter journey through my mind.
Our doctor is hoping he'll outgrow it. We're going to retest him every year and pray that some sort of cure or immunity comes into play (which they are working on).
After my maddening "why me?" self-pity thoughts come to rest, I then think about all those other mother's who "did everything right" too and they have more issues and "real" handicaps to deal with. I start to feel guilty for my woeful monologues. I need to be thankful for all the things that Reilly is and can do. He's a very healthy, active little boy with the best disposition. I'll just get him signed up for karate classes as soon as he's 4 so those bullies don't stand a chance :)
Monday, May 5, 2008
The Ex-Factor
So we were at a BBQ lunch for a dear friend on Saturday. He happens to be the best friend of my ex. Of course my ex, his wife (the woman he cheated on me with) and their daughter were there. I've run into them before, but never in such an intimate setting.
It really got me thinking that everything happens for a reason, and you can't have any regrets. I spent 4 years of my life with that guy, and I honestly wouldn't change a thing. I was a different person then, but he helped mold me into the person that I am today, and I really like that person.
Part of me wants to thank him. He taught me about God, he taught me to love myself when I really didn't, and his family taught me what a family should be like. I'm not saying anything bad about my parents; it's just different because they've been divorced since before I can remember.
I still have so much love for his family. They're such good people! I think I wanted to love him so much because I wanted to be a part of his family so badly. He's not a bad guy either. He made a mistake, and I think he's as happy as I am now. His daughter is BEAUTIFUL! I mean piercing blue eyes and dark princess-like hair. His wife is really nice. She's due to give birth a couple of months before I am. In another world, Dave and I would probably be good friends with them.
Back then, I wasn't a very strong person. I think I depended on him WAY too much. When we broke up I had to learn how to be me. I didn't really know who that was. It took me 3 years and a lot of "changing" (piercings, tattoos, church, no church, red hair, blue hair and other things you don't even want to know about) to figure out who I was. Luckily when I finally did figure it out I met the man of my dreams. I couldn't imagine life without Dave or Reilly. They're my life, my loves, my everythings. And I think without finding "myself," I wouldn't have been able to open myself up to Dave and love him like I do.
In closing, I think you can finally say you've moved on when you truly wish your ex (the man who broke your heart into tiny little pieces) as much happiness as you have. And I have to tell you - that's A LOT!
It really got me thinking that everything happens for a reason, and you can't have any regrets. I spent 4 years of my life with that guy, and I honestly wouldn't change a thing. I was a different person then, but he helped mold me into the person that I am today, and I really like that person.
Part of me wants to thank him. He taught me about God, he taught me to love myself when I really didn't, and his family taught me what a family should be like. I'm not saying anything bad about my parents; it's just different because they've been divorced since before I can remember.
I still have so much love for his family. They're such good people! I think I wanted to love him so much because I wanted to be a part of his family so badly. He's not a bad guy either. He made a mistake, and I think he's as happy as I am now. His daughter is BEAUTIFUL! I mean piercing blue eyes and dark princess-like hair. His wife is really nice. She's due to give birth a couple of months before I am. In another world, Dave and I would probably be good friends with them.
Back then, I wasn't a very strong person. I think I depended on him WAY too much. When we broke up I had to learn how to be me. I didn't really know who that was. It took me 3 years and a lot of "changing" (piercings, tattoos, church, no church, red hair, blue hair and other things you don't even want to know about) to figure out who I was. Luckily when I finally did figure it out I met the man of my dreams. I couldn't imagine life without Dave or Reilly. They're my life, my loves, my everythings. And I think without finding "myself," I wouldn't have been able to open myself up to Dave and love him like I do.
In closing, I think you can finally say you've moved on when you truly wish your ex (the man who broke your heart into tiny little pieces) as much happiness as you have. And I have to tell you - that's A LOT!
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