We learned to speak whale this weekend

So Shaun and I decided to pack our bags for a little summer family vacation get away to San Diego. This meant 5 hours sitting in traffic on a vacation weekend with a not very thrilled one year old in the back seat. Did he not get the happy good fun time memo? Its pretty much every California kids right of passage to go to two places when you're little; one being the happiest place on earth ... and then the happiest place on earth's distant, twice removed aquatic cousin. Thats right baby, we're talking about Sea World.


















It was a bit of a whirlwind weekend but we had a lot of fun. We learned a lot too; like, its nearly impossible to keep a one year old who wants to run everywhere still and that when contained, will scream at pitches I'm sure only the whales could hear. Needless to say, we didn't sit through any shows, and never got to actually see Shamu. I know, right? Oh well, we have free passes to go back before the end of the year. Second time better be a charm because I ain't making that trip a third time any time soon!

Bubble wrap my world, Baby.

So last night I did what most parents/friends/books tell you to not do. I picked up my child, comfortably sleeping sound in his own bed, and brought him into mine.

I needed to be able to hold him. To snuggle him. To kiss him. To trace his features with my finger while he slept. To tell him how much he means to me. To just love him.

For quite a few months I've been following some bloggers that are linked up to one of my friends whose child was diagnosed with a CHD. I don't know why, but last night reading one really got to me. And when I say got to me, I mean it really shook my core. Maybe because I saw so much of my own son in hers. Maybe because her postings about life and death really spoke to me. For whatever reason, it affected me. I did what this mother couldn't do with her own son. And so, yes, I took my son, out of his own bed, and put him into mine for a major mommy-needed-snuggle-session. Selfish, yah, probably. But do I really care? No, not really.

Shaun has told me numerous times throughout our relationship that I live my life waiting for that other shoe to drop. I don't know why I do it, but its not something that has passed me by without notice over the years, or my life really.

With Sullivan it was no different. Early on in Shaun and I's relationship I told him I didn't know how easy it would be for me to have children - I think that even then I knew. Its never been a secret that my mom had struggled for years with her own infertility and that fertility issues flank both sides of my family.

It took us 3 years to get pregnant with Sullivan, the last year of which we actively pursued with vitamins, medication and monthly charting. My entire pregnancy I was anxious. I remember spotting late in my first trimester and almost having a damn near panic attack. (It obviously worked out.) But that fear that I might lose him after trying for so long never left.

I can't explain to people who get pregnant easily or by mistake what its like to not be able to. I spent a long, long time feeling wrecked with guilt about our infertility (since Shaun came back with a clear bill of health) and the amount of stress it had placed on both of us. Right before I became pregnant with Sullivan, I made peace with whatever the situation was going to let itself be. I decided that short of us doing what we already were, it was out of our hands, and if we were meant to be parents by this path, we would be. But that fear, that fear that it was all just too good to be true, it never left. In some ways it still hasn't.

But I also guess thats the risk you run when you become a parent. You become vulnerable in a way that you never have before, because you love in a way you never have before. And to love, I mean really, truly, love - we have to be willing to accept all the risks that come attached with that love.

I carried Sullivan for 9 months, and for 9 months I held my breath. I told Shaun I wasn't going to be able to breathe again until he was here. And now, well - now. Now I still find myself holding my breath and I'm realizing I can't live my life that way. My wise husband told me the other night that living with this kind of trepidation isn't always the worst thing, by recognizing it I open myself to live each day to the fullest, because I don't take our son for granted, like so many people tend to do sometimes. That I understand life is not a guarantee. That it is not a promise. But that we have the guarantee and promise to live each day to our full capability, and love with it as well.

I wonder if he even realizes the things that come out of his mouth sometimes. I'm thankful he's able to take my jumbled and quite often irrational ramblings and make sense out of them. Make me feel better and not so, well - like that bat shit crazy mom who make her son wear a helmet and bubble wrap everywhere he goes.

I guess I'm learning that living with fear just comes with the territory of learning to become a parent. I worry that he'll fall down the stairs when he insists walking down them instead of crawling. I worry about the food he puts in his mouth, immunizations, that he watches TV, is allergic to grass, bites or that he thinks he's a dog. (I mean he really thinks he's an actual dog.) I worry that he'll fail a class or think I'm a horrible parent - that he'll drive his car too fast or get his heart broken one day. I worry. But I guess as a parent thats just part of the job description that I signed on for.

But I can't let that define my life, or his. Theres not enough bubble wrap in the world to protect him from everything I want to anyways.

I guess we'll just take our chances.

My heart aches for these parents, because I get it. I get what its like to love somebody so much that you can't imagine your life without them, to feel like your world will cease to be if they aren't there. And I can't imagine what is must be like to walk in their shoes and I am so unbelievably disheartened that any parent would ever have to experience that. I guess I felt like I owed it to them, to myself, to hold on a little bit tighter to my son last night, sing to him a little bit longer, to love him a little bit deeper.

My girlfriends son is preparing to go in for surgery in the next couple of days. Shaun and I were talking it. My husband is a man of few words, he's not the type of guy that lives with his heart on his sleeve. But its affected him too. I'm not sure if I'm more surprised by that fact or the fact that I'm surprised at all. I shouldn't be. He knows what its like too to have that fear of loss, he's suffered a taste of it himself. He told me this whole situation has made him try and look at things a little different, and that he's working on being more understanding with Sully and less stern. I thought it was really sweet, and made me a little choked up. He gets it too.

He also told me not to feel bad about putting Sully in bed with us. I laughed and said I thought he would get pissed that I did it. (Our son sleeps like he's practicing Kung Fu and somebody usually ends up with some bruised ribs or black eye in the morning.) "No way." He said sometimes, you just got to snuggle with your baby. That and I "read way too many books about how other people think we should be raising our son."

I was sitting on the floor while we were talking about it, and out of nowhere Sully walked over and gave me the biggest kiss on the mouth, then wrapped his arms around my neck and squeezed the crap out of me and said "Mama, Mama, Mama!" then walked away and went back to putting all of his trucks in a row.

I cried. (And I'd like to clarify I'm not a crier but damn if I haven't shed some major tears this past year.) Because I love him. Because he's made me vulnerable. Because that little boy is my world. Because he teaches me everyday. Because Sully Kisses squash trepidation out any day.

Because this is my life. This is our life. And I must have done something right to deserve all this.

And I'll live it with my full capability.

I'll live it with love.

Happy Thursday

I've decided I'm going to start (trying) to dedicate a certain amount of time per week for my blog. Its not that I think a lot of people follow it and feel the need to update it often, but I'm just less stressed when I get everything out of my head and onto paper, even if its virtual paper. I've been having some pretty serious meltdowns as of lately, so its time for me to shake things up, set aside some time to do the things I need to do, but also remember set aside time for the things I want to do.

I really love the idea of daily/weekly blog photo journals, and I follow a handful fairly regularly. I think its a great way to track what went on during our families year. This means that I'm aiming to start taking more pictures too, just as a way for us to be able to look back and remember all the happenings we had going on. Plus, I really want to start getting more serious about my photography. Shaun bought me a book for mother's day that I've been trying to read whenever I have a few minutes, so I can be more savvy with our camera. I also need to learn how to edit my photos better, so this will provide some much needed practice for me.

I never said it would be good though, or pretty. This is just purely for me. If you're along for the ride, even better. So don't expect any money back.

These days I've been purely fueled by one thing, and one thing alone.

I was never a coffee drinker before Sullivan, but these days, it seems to be the only thing that can get me through the mornings. This morning Sully and I headed out early this morning in our pj's and flip flops in the overcast marine layer for some Vente Iced Carmel Macchiato's. Okay so he actually ended up with the Naked Mango juice he picked out. But there was another reason we were there. I let Sully pick out a special treat for his Nini since its her birthday today (Happy Birthday Mom!) and surprisingly he went for the mini pink "Birthday Cake" donuts they have. Perfect if I do say so myself son. Sold.

As I watched him navigate through the shop in his little shoes with my keys in one hand and clutching his juice he proudly picked up tucked under the other, I couldn't help but smile (along with a handful of other customers) and wonder where that little baby I brought home just 15 short months ago went. It made me happy and sad all at the same time.

Work has been crazy. Its the end of our year fiscal year which means a crazy amount of things for me and my program. I've spent the days juggling a teething toddler who doesn't like to sleep or keep his diaper on, mountains of laundry and the ever growing list of to-do items with end of the year reports, workshop planning, committee meeting plans and the personal thorn-in-my-side data entry forms. After a pretty decent complete mental meltdown yesterday, I'm back on track, slowly attacking it all one step at a time. After weeks of staring at stacks of files, I'm starting to finally see glimpses of my desk at home and at my office.

Less of those means a heck of a lot more getting to see this little hambone. Which makes for a happier and less crazed Mama on the home front.

Happy Thursday everyone!

Threats

Every parent shovels them out to try and get the response they want out of their children. Bless my husband for trying.

Sully: In the middle of throwing a rolling-on-the-floor-like-I'm-on-fire-tantrum.

Shaun: "You want to cry, because I'll give you something to scream about. SOCIAL SECURITY, there won't be any when you're old. THINK ABOUT IT!"

Sully: SCREAM

Shaun: "I know, its terrifying isn't it. ISN'T IT!"

Dimples

I'm not even sure where to start.

I was exhausted all day today, but its just becoming the new norm for Shaun and I running around after a toddler. The days can be challenging at times, especially with such a high energy, do and think later, thinks no's are funny, stubborn as the day is long, 100% boy we have in our house. The past couple days have been frustrating more than not as Shaun and I try to discover what our happy place is on the spectrum of discipline with Sully and then on top of that remaining as consistent as we possibly can with the follow up. As Shaun said, they sure don't tell you about days like these in the parenting books.

No, no they don't baby. I even looked in all the indexes and "frazzled" wasn't listed once.

As I laid in bed ... frazzled ... I watched Sully as he looked at me and smiled while his eyes started to dose back. He grabbed my hand and pulled it up onto his tummy and I asked "Tickle?" (which that usually means ... tummy rubs are the best btw) and he shook his head no. He put his little hand around mine and squeezed it, then fell asleep. Guess he was just in need of a security blanket, literally. I looked at the dimples in his hands and it made me think of the dimples in his cheeks. God I love it when he smiles. He also has a dimple under his right eye that makes itself present when he smiles or laughs really hard. His whole face lights up. Its the kind of thing that I know one day will be the thing that makes a girl fall head over heels for him. And it reminded me that I wouldn't trade frazzled days, stepping on a building block he's put in my shoe or having mashed up crackers in the bottom of my purse ... for anything.

Even on the challenging days like today.

All those things that can make the days "challenging are the things that also make him into everything that I love about him. He's my spirited child and it pours itself out into everything that he does. And I think thats pretty amazing, especially at 1.

I have a philosophy; there is no such thing as a bad child, just bad parents. So I need to do what I can to figure out how to better meet his needs. I guess I forget sometimes that maybe he really does miss Shaun and I when we're gone during the day. Scratch that. I know he does. My hand on his tummy with his little fat fingers clenching it says that he does.

Having a child has made me have some pretty serious a-ha moments. I'm trying better to change those things about me so I can be a better parent to Sully. To learn to take those "challenges" and turn them into something positive for us both. I cringe sometimes to think that his first real word was "No". I don't want to be that parent, the "No" parent. Its a work in progress, but hey, we're at least working on it.

Sullivan.

He's just shy of 14 months old and is now a full fledged walker ... and climber I might add. He loves avocados, carrots, yogurt, climbing (I think I said that) anything that has to do with water, his red push-car he rides outside, the cats, terrorizing the dogs with hockey sticks, hockey, running around with no diaper, using anything that looks like it could be a phone as a phone,chicken nuggets, chalk, things with buttons, brushing his hair, drinking out of "grown up" glasses and then backwashing into the poor soul's glass that was suckered into letting him have a "sip". And he loves music. We dance to it, sing it, sign it, you name it.

He dislikes diaper changes, getting dressed, being told no, most juices, growing teeth, sitting still, crust, foods with funky textures, and wearing the tutus mommy makes for our little girl friends to get measurements.

He can sign drink, please, more and all done. He also does the hand gestures to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, The Wheels on the Bus and and Little Red Caboose. He is saying new words everyday, his top favorite being mama, dada, no, yes (yesh), dog, dat (whats that which is accompanied by the cutest little finger point in the shape of a sideways gun that I've ever seen) and today we've added car (kah-KA!).

We recently went to the doctor to have his ears checked and he weighed in at 24.7 lbs. I have no idea where his height currently stands, but I do know that in our Mommy & Me class he's the same height as most of the 2 year olds and towers over the kiddos in the 10-14 month range.

Recently I found out the school I use to teach at, at the college I graduated from has now added a 2 year old preschool class. Before, the kiddos had to be on the later end of 2-3 years of age to enroll. Shaun and I talked and we're enrolling him for August of 2011 - application has already been sent in and on the waiting list. Sully will attend two days a week. Its still a little ways away but I'm really excited for him to have a place where I know he will thrive a couple times a week. MP CDC is by far one of the best preschools around, and it will always hold such a very special place in my heart. Working there and being an alumni left me with some amazing people I'm lucky to call friends and some even funnier memories. I gladly will leave my child to them. I know he's going to love it.

Mexico was great, except for the sea sickness. last week we had a fun day at the SB Zoo ... got to love those year passes. We had an impromptu BBQ here last Sunday for Memorial Day with our group of friends. This week upcoming will mark the start of the June birthday festivities in our house followed by fathers day. For mother's day Shaun got me a Nikon camera photography book that I've been trying to read in whatever spare time I can get once Sully is down. I've also had a handful of crafts that I've been working on for friends, and Sully as well. We fill the rest of the days with parks, zoos, walks, baking (Sully has discovered the beater) and living in the pool outside on the warmer days.

What else can I say, life is good man.

Music man

Yesterday in the car, Sully was dancing in his car seat to Blind Melon's "No Rain".

Then Kelly Clarkson's "A Moment Like This" came on. The clapping ceased, followed by a long pause, and then a very loud "Nooooo!" from the back seat.

I scanned the radio and landed on "Lay Me Down"by the Dirty Heads. Sully started clapping and resumed his dancing.

I freaking love my kid.

Working Mamas

I am a working mother. And yes, I'm perfectly happy with that.

Its really starting to piss me off when stay-at-home moms take pity on me because my husband and I work full-time. But what really gets to me is when they assume I work because I have to & not because maybe, I actually truly enjoy what I do - and find out that given the choice to stay home or work, I'd still choose to be a working mom.

That's when the tongues really start to wag.

I'm tired of society thinking that being a stay home mom is some elite group that all mothers strive to be a part of. Because you know, its really not.

Don't get me wrong, I love my son more than anything, but he does not define the only thing that I am.

I have good days and bad days being a working mom. There are days that I would rather be spending with my son than behind a desk going through applications, crunching budget numbers or processing provider invoices. There are moments in the day when I'm at my office that I wonder what he's doing. I'm fortunate enough to have a mom who happily spoils her grandson rotten three days a week while I'm at my office. I'm also fortunate to work for a boss & company that understand and respect the idea of being working parents and allow me to work two days a week from my home so that I can be there more for my son.

See, I built this program from the ground up long before the thought of Sully was ever in the picture. As all my co-workers say, this program is my "at work baby". I get the chance to help families every day - to make a difference. I may bitch and grumble about it from time to time, but its something that I'm not willing to easily walk away from. I logged so many hours on and off the clock the first couple of years getting this program to a point where it was functional and working. Meetings, workshops, proposals, late nights, weekends ... all in the name of creating something that could work for this community of parents that I've grown to love. I'm never going to make 6 figures working in non profit. None of us will. We do it because we love what it stands for, because we love what we do, because we have a passion and commitment for it. To understand that, is to understand me - its what makes me a better person, a better parent - every day. Its the foundation of all things that I want to pass on to my son.

I always thought that having a baby would automatically mean putting my career on hold, quitting my job, and staying home. I also now realize that those are the hopes and dreams of others around me, not mine. I'm comfortable enough with myself to say that I would not be content as a stay home mommy. I love Sullivan - and the time that I spend with him is by far the best of each and every single day. But I also know that NOT being with him every single waking hour is what makes me a better parent - it allows me to fully appreciate the time that I do have with him and forces me to be 110% on my game, all of the time. It pushes me to give him more of myself each day and not take for granted the things that we are able to do. It forces me to be a better wife and Shaun a better husband and father. It has allowed our family to create a truly egalitarian union. There is no his and her jobs in our house (with the exception of spiders). There is no such thing and my money or Shaun's money. We both work equally hard. We both pull our weight. Together, we work seamlessly (most days anyways) to ensure ALL jobs are getting done around the house. If you come to our house you'll more than likely see me picking up dog poop, taking out the trash or taking the cars in for maintenance. You'll probably see my husband cooking, folding laundry or bathing, reading and singing our child to sleep at night. There are no such things as titles or lines drawn in the sand in our family.

And we very much like it that way.

I wouldn't be 100% truthful if I didn't acknowledge that as a woman, it makes me proud to look at the things we have, the places that we go and the things that we do - and say that I have financially contributed equally to those things. I work as hard as any man to provide for my family and still get dinner made, the bills paid and everyone to sleep on time. I still make cupcakes for my husbands work, take my son to classes, and walk my dog. I take my son to the zoo, have play dates with friends and do the grocery shopping. Everyone has clean underwear, lunches made, and my house is not falling apart.

"But you'll never be a PTA Mom. You'll never be able to be a soccer mom." Says who, you? I may not be able to bake cookies or hit the park up with him every single day, but he has a wonderful supporting cast of people in his life that make sure he is not for lack of any of those things. Its a juggling act that I don't have down 100% just yet - I drop a few balls now and again, but its one that I find with each day I get better and more confident at. For first time parents, I don't think we're doing too shabby. And when that little voice of doubt creeps into my head that perhaps I'm being selfish - perhaps we haven't made the right choices; I just look at my son who practically always has a smile on his face and a hug waiting for me as soon as I put my work bag down.

And I know that yes, I am a working mom. And yes, I am perfectly happy with that.