March 17, 2010

What I Got For My Birthday

Today is my 31st birthday and I woke up with a sore throat. I started feeling the scratchiness last night before I went to bed so I downed a packet of Emergen-C, ate an orange and promptly fell asleep. This morning it was worse and as the day progressed I started feeling the symptoms of a cold. I am miserable. Happy Birthday to me!

I’m pretty sure Owen is the culprit. He’s had a runny nose for a few days, and I diligently washed my hands many, many times before and after touching or holding or nursing him. I’m sure I absentmindedly kissed him a few times and have now caught this miserable virus. I am praying it goes away quickly. I don’t handle being sick very well. In fact, I’m a very cranky person when I have the sniffles. Just ask my husband about the time I threw my shoes at him because he wouldn’t bring me the heating pad the last time I had a cold.

Speaking of the man I married, the lucky dog is out for dart night; it’s his weekly Wednesday thing. Meanwhile I’m home ON MY BIRTHDAY with a cold. I’m frowning as I type.

I’m just amazed at how quickly this thing came on. I thought maybe it was allergies, because I’ve been outside every day this week. Okay, I’m done complaining.

Owen is a little fussy tonight. He feels as good as I do. Dawson has been trying to entertain him while I get things done. I’m afraid my symptoms will worsen and the house will be a mess because I’ll be too miserable to do anything.

So, there you have it. My life is crazy.

How is your St. Patrick’s Day?

March 3, 2010

Happy Birthday, Little Sister!

My sister is 25 today.  A quarter of a century old.  I don’t remember what I did on my 25th birthday.  I think I slept right through it; I was pregnant with Dawson at the time.

Rachel is out on the town, partying it up with her BFFs.  I imagine she’s having a rockin’ good time.  (Sadly, I couldn’t make it out to celebrate with her, it’s hard to get a babysitter on a week night. I owe her a night on the town.)

Raych, I hope your day was fantastic!  Happy 25th!

September 16, 2009

Dear Dawson,

Today, you are five years old.  I cannot begin to tell you how this blows my mind.  Five years ago you were born at 2:53 p.m., weighing 7 pounds, 8 ounces, and measuring 18 1/2 inches from beautiful head to tiny feet.

2004

Watching you grow up has been a joy, but is sometimes challenging.  Over the last year you’ve transformed from my little guy into a big boy.  You are a passionate and enthusiastic child, with an infectious joie de vivre that infects everyone in your presence.

2005

You love to be outside, exploring nature and investigating every creature and critter; from birds to bugs.  A few weeks ago we saw a green caterpillar crawling on the railing of the deck and you exclaimed, “He’s so green!  And cute!  And tiny!”  The smile on your face was priceless, as though this was your first encounter with a caterpillar.

2006

You are motivated by a desire to learn, often asking questions about things you don’t understand.  You have the discipline and patience to focus your energy on particular skill or project, and I noticed this while you were playing your Transformers video game on the Nintendo DS.  After you vented your frustrations while figuring out what to do, you kept playing the game until you mastered the skill, and then went beyond what you already achieved.  Each time you reached a new level you were so proud of yourself.  “I did it, Mom!” I heard you shout.  “I did it!”

2007

Occasionally, your passionate nature can lead to rebelliousness and you do not like when your father and I discipline you.  You are an independent child, someone who must do things on his own time frame.  You do not like to be rushed.  This was made clear from the way you came into the world.

Doctors induced labor on a Tuesday and you decided you would not be told when to be born.  Instead, you waited until Thursday to make your grand debut. To this day, you hate to be told what to do.  You’re a very good kid, and you listen to what your dad and I say, but you make sure to do things your very own way.

My biggest challenge as a parent is struggling to find the appropriate discipline methods.  I never want to break your incredible spirit. I aim to guide you in making good decisions and to instill in you the values my parents taught me.

2008

You are bursting with energy, and you thrive on competition.  Each day after the mailman brings our mail, you jump up and say, “I’ll race you to the mailbox, Mom!” or “Last one there is the rotten egg!”  Of course you win because your skinny legs are much quicker than mine.  I am forever the rotten egg when it comes to mailbox racing.

You are a warm-hearted child.  You care about the feelings of others and you love to offer hugs to make people feel happy.  When someone is sad you try to cheer them up with your adorable smile and charming blue eyes.  On the first day of 4-year-old kindergarten you said to me, “Now, don’t cry, Mom.  I’m going to have so much fun!  Don’t cry, okay?  I love you so much.”  And I didn’t cry.  Well, not until a week later when you got on the school bus for the first time.  It was difficult to watch a piece of my heart ride off without me.

2009

Your manners are impeccable.  You are polite and courteous and never forget to say “please” or “thank you” or “your welcome” and when you are speaking to adults, you always open your conversation by saying “excuse me”.  Last week we went to the library and another girl sneezed.  I was so proud when I heard you say “God Bless You” and the Librarian remarked on how well-mannered you are.

Several times each day you’ll come by me and ask for a hug or kiss, and my heart melts when I hear you say things like, “I just love you so much, Mom!”  It’s moments like these that make me want to freeze time.  You’re growing up so fast.  It feels like just yesterday I was holding you in the hospital, clumsily trying to nurse.  I remember looking into your eyes and thanking the Lord for my little miracle.  Oh, how I wish I had a rewind button.

I love your laugh.  I love when you giggle at funny things.  I love that you look forward to reading books with me before bed time.  I love that you are so excited to be a big brother.  But most of all, I love you very, very much.  You’ll always be my baby.

Happy Birthday, Doodlebug!

Love,

Mom

March 16, 2009

Tomorrow, I Turn 30

…and I’m freaking out about it.

It really isn’t that big of a deal.  We can’t stop the passing of time.  I’ve had 29 previous birthdays, I should be used to this “getting older” thing.  Right?

I mean, it’s not like I’m 105 and on the up swing of death or anything.

So why do I feel so depressed?

I mean, I’ve been given the best birthday gift ever.  I’m going to have another baby.

And I have a beautiful little boy who lights up my life in so many ways.

And I have a wonderful husband who loves me.

Ugh.

Maybe it’s because it’s the end of my 20s.  Perhaps I’m recalling every carefree moment of those early years, 20, 21 and 22.  And maybe I’m recalling my grown up moments at 23, 24 and 25.  It’s 26 through 29 that were sort of bumpy.  Those were the years I tried to fit into my own skin — the years I tried to make my life more my own.  They were also the years of great changes and frustrations and I sort of wish I could do them over again.

But alas, I will be 30.  Tomorrow.  And I’m freaking out….  Just a little.