[six weeks, and still too small for his newborn clothes]

As most of you know, Max was born fairly early and without much warning. I’m not sure if it was the speed or the drugs, but the only word to describe it was surreal. I felt so mentally unprepared for having a baby on that particular day, almost a whole month before I’d planned, that I felt a little removed from the situation - it was five hours of okay, well, I guess this is what we’re doing today! Happy Monday, honey! I called about the visiting teaching appointments I would miss and about the apple pie and mashed potatoes I would no longer be contributing to Thanksgiving dinner. When your body doesn’t bother to tell you that you’re in labor, it’s hard to believe that it’s true. Trevor went and bought sheets for Max and socks for me, but that was just fake, right? And then he was born, and it still felt unreal. You do what you have to do to get through something so sudden, and you don’t have time to stop and think about it until later.

That “later” came for me when I was being wheeled to my room, and they stopped the stretcher next to the nursery so I could see him. A nurse was holding him near the window while she cleaned him, but I was really tired at that point and not quite sure why we were stopping; Trevor had to point him out to me. But as soon as my eyes found him, well, we connected and I loved him. I was amazed that he was ours. There he was, naked and crying and almost clean. It felt like he was crying out for me, but he was also determined to save himself! And then, for just a couple of seconds, I saw him - the real him, his whole self who had been waiting to come to us for so long. All of who he is suddenly seemed apparent to me in that one moment. There are no specific words to define it, but that was when I cried. I instinctively reached out my hand to touch him, forgetting that he was behind glass. And then they wheeled me away, and I missed him. But I knew him.

He has stayed very true to that person that I saw. I hope I can always help him to be his best him, because I loved who I saw. He is so important. I’m so proud of all the things he has learned in one year! It was only 366 days, one after the other, from then until now. I was with him on all of those days, but every day there was something new. Those tiny new things add up, and somehow we’ve ended up here - with a not-so-tiny family member we can truly call our friend. We really really like him!

I feel like my experience that day at the hospital was a small-scale version of what his whole life has been: mostly a surreal blur, where I do what needs to be done and then fall exhausted into bed… But then there’s those times where it is all clear, and I remember that I’m here. He’s here. I’m his mother. Trevor is his father and we’re a family. It seems distant, but we lived those days of no sleep, we lived those days of having to carry him everywhere and we lived watching him learn to eat, laugh and walk. He’s not a baby anymore. I’m so thankful that we gave him a body, and I’m so thankful that he loves to be in it. He loves his little life. It’s full of big responsibilities for such a little guy - like vroom vrooming with his cars, babbling mamama all day long, running to find me when we play hide and seek, wrestling with his Daddy, trying to hold still while I change his diaper, and trying to eat rocks.

Such is the life of my Max. I hope it will continue to expand in joys for him.

[eleven months and handsome as can be]

Some (and by some I mean 16) pretty nifty ways to live in a disaster! But I’m guessing these are probably not available to the general public.

[Via weburbanist.com, an interesting new blog in my world of too many blog subscriptions...]

Also, as long as we’re on the subject of shelter: a completely different version of portable housing - with a completely different price tag.

As a little follow-up to one of my last posts, I wanted to share and say I’m thankful today for this.

Today is a running day! Good thing, because we went to a birthday party last night and somebody thought it was necessary that I come home with leftover cake. Oh, the scrumptiousness of the frosting! Oh, my expanding waistline!

Thanks to everyone for your thoughts on Santa. Don’t worry, I was never seriously considering going the non-Santa route. That would be sad. (And probably sad for his friends, as well!) But I got lots of good tips on perspectives to approach it from, which are things that I am going to need, now that I think about it. So, thank you! You’re all so helpful; good thing I have you.

And as long as we’re on the topic of how many good things you all know, I’d now like to hear your combined knowledge on cooking a turkey! Cause we’re having Thanksgiving here… with company… eek. I hear frying is the new baking, in turkeyville. Sounds totally unhealthy though. Thoughts?

It’s raining.

Looks like we’re in for a long day!

Thanks to a friend who brought this to my attention, I finally read an article today about the protests in LA. I’d been looking for details but hadn’t been able to find any in the mainstream news.

It’s had me out of sorts all day. I know that I shouldn’t let it get to me, and tomorrow I will do as I should - just be hopeful and optimistic - but tonight it feels like something that just needs to run its course in me. Like it deserves my attention for a little while.
I know that there’s been a lot of terrible things happening in the world for a long time, but my news-conscious life has really only spanned about 8 years. I am still shocked on a regular basis at the state of things; when Obama first announced his candidacy and there were news reports speculating that America was in no way ready for an African-American president, I was very surprised anybody would even deem that an issue to consider, because I thought we were past that. And today I am just beyond words [except I'm dragging them out of me to write this post]. This issue is really getting to me… like I just told my brother, I feel kind of like Obi Wan in Star Wars when he knows that Tatooine was just blown up because he can just feel all of the sadness and evil? It’s a little like that. I feel literally weighed down, in both my spirit and my body. A quick survey of my friends’ status’ list seems to hint that I and this feeling are not alone.

I was raised in a very “blue” place, and while this left me in the minority with regards to my religion, I also felt lucky. I found most people to be quite open-minded, rational and unprejudiced. They may have disagreed with me but they also recognized my right to choose my beliefs, and they did not usually view it as a deterrent to our friendship. (It was actually a little strange for me to move to Texas and realize that I might really meet people who, due to misinformation, actively hate my church.) I, also, was raised to know that everyone has the right to believe and to worship as they choose. We do in fact have a same-sex couple living right next door to us here and we are on friendly terms with them. A rational look at the facts says there is no excuse for the extent of this protest. The LDS church’s involvement with Prop 8 was fully constitutional, and the church does not promote hatred or negative behavior towards any group of people.

It does, however, have a right to speak out on moral issues. It did, and the people of California voted: democracy in action. And now the members in LA are being denied their [unarguably stated constitutional right] to worship as they choose. They cannot safely get to the temple, and their other property and in some cases very lives are being threatened. And so tonight I am wondering, and I believe I’m backed up by that policeman in the article - Where is the government on this? Why is the media spending their time talking about Michelle Obama’s dress, instead of this?

I know it doesn’t make any difference in the large scheme of things to try to reason with people about these social issues; opinions are just too polarized. But I’m so sad, that people can arrive at this state of blindness - and I’m not even referring to their stance on same-sex marriage but rather just the hypocrisy in how they go about it. These protestors feel themselves so progressive and democratic, demanding rights for all, yet their actions embody the complete opposite of these ideals. What is there to be proud of in verbal and physical violence? Threats, disrespect and a complete lack of self-control? How is that supposed to make anyone desire to or feel it a smart idea to adopt their agenda? I feel like what used to be the positive aspects of the liberal movement - what I enjoyed about living in a blue state - is now being overlooked as extreme groups act like they are more important than tolerance, and too modern to be bothered with respect. It’s a sad world that we live in.

But it’s also a happy one, and now that I’ve gotten all of that out, I feel much better. When the bad gets worse, the good also gets better. Soon I will post lots of things to love, to balance this out.

Happy weekend!

Yesterday evening I was reading this, which prompted me to remark something to Trevor about how someday we were going to have to tell/confirm to our son the truth about dear old Santa. It’s one of the more sad rights of passage in life; a milestone I can’t even imagine being ready for a child of mine to reach. Anyway, he said, “Were we ever going to let him believe in Santa in the first place?”

I of course responded with the appropriate shock that he would suggest our child miss out on this era of his youth, all the while assuming he wasn’t serious - it’s just one of those things he says to get a reaction out of me. Right?

Wrong. Turns out, when the day came that he suspected the truth about Santa, the Easter Bunny & Co., he took the matter to his mother as most children do. Upon her acknowledgement of their non-existence, he then inquired, “So is Jesus fake too?”

Only makes sense, right? If all those stories your parents told you are fake, the rest are probably also fake…

I fully expect Max will have the same fabulously genius brain as his father. Which, in this case, is worrisome! Will have to give this dilemma further thought.

I feel resigned.

Like many, I’m not really a fan of either option today. But I researched and I thought and I vacillated and I chose and I voted and I’m satisfied. I’m glad for the opportunity to have defined my own political opinions. And now I just wait, interested but mostly removed. And a little bit sad for the whole country. Either way it’s not going to be pretty, but we’ll all get by for a little while longer.

It’s been a fun two years, election. Won’t miss you.

Tired, but avoided any lines.

Happy voting!

I’ve been reading about books, now I can read about book covers. What more could a girl want?