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Monday, May 20, 2013
SHAMELESS POST! VOTE FOR LIAM!
So I entered my son in this little competition, and because I am a proud mommy, I'm shamelessly promoting my son through my blog. So if you read, and if you want to, please vote.
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Thanks!
http://www.parents.com/photos/
Thanks!
Baby Yoga
I'm proud to announce that my son now continues to sleep through the night. Not only does he STILL sleep through the night, he also will put himself BACK to sleep after he wakes up in bed. Something, huh? I'm not boasting. I know it may change at any moment, but for now, I will rest in the fact that even though I may not be sleeping through the night, it's not because of my son.
---
Andy worked on Saturday morning, so Liam and I had the whole day to ourselves. It was like a dream. No painting, no plans to be anywhere. Just. Us. So I decided to take him to Mommy and Baby Yoga at a studio in Camp Hill (about 35 minutes away, for those who care). So I dressed him in a little comfy outfit, put on my yoga gear, grabbed my mat (never been to a yoga class, yet I own a mat. Go fig.) and out the door we went.
When I was imagining baby yoga, I was expecting a few twenty-something moms, driving in their Volvos and other five-star safety test rated cars, toting immaculate GAP-wearing babes with perfectly organized Coach diaper bags. I pictured perfect bodies and perfect pony tails and perfect nails. Essentially just a photoshoot for Fit Pregnancy Magazine.
When we got there, we were early and they weren't open yet. The teacher wasn't even there. Liam and I sat and watched the cars until a VW mini bus pulled up, the bumper sticker on the side pondering, "Got Autoharp?" Since I had forgotten my autoharp, I was interested to see who was getting out of the hippy van, and if she in fact had remembered hers.
If I had to make a guess, I'd say the girl was younger than me, her name was Katie and her baby's name was Rose. She was about four months old. (Liam immediately tried to rip off her face. I intervened with a quiet "gentle, Liam" and he decided to hold her hand instead.) We started talking about breastfeeding and I proudly announced that I had made it to five months (just about) and Liam was healthy and happy. She had plans to breast feed until Rose was graduating high school. Oops. But she was friendly and I liked her.
The teach arrived and opened the class room, and we went in. The teacher was a low talker and slightly vague about where we should sit and what we should do. In the front of the yoga area there was a little boutique which was filled with organic products, baby wearing apparatus, and breast feeding paraphernalia. A huge sign stated, "We welcome breast feeding here." Katie immediately whipped one of hers out and Rose obliged.
A third mom came in toting a PJ wearing baby named Zade who was a few weeks older than Liam. He had curly hair and his skin was like milk chocolate. He was busy chewing on his fingers, which lead me to believe he too was getting teeth. HE was no where as active Liam, but I've often noticed that Liam is far more active than other babies.
Which is probably why he wouldn't lay still when we were doing yoga over him, and why every time I tried to do the baby stretches and massages that Low Talker was instructing us to do, he would laugh and flip over and try to crawl away. Zade ended up falling asleep. Rose was breast fed again and changed. Her brightly colored cloth diapers intrigued me, but not enough to go out and buy a bunch.
Liam was enjoying it for the most part, mostly gawking to see exactly what Rose was doing, but he enjoyed the ups and downs and he giggled with all the massages we were instructed to do. He wanted to stand and flip over and crawl and basically just take Low Talker's place at the head of the class. I finally popped in a pacifier so he'd calm down a little. Every mother gasped.
She didn't just put that dreaded piece of plastic in her child's mouth...did she?
Oh yes, she did.
At the end of the class, the teacher turned out the lights and we were supposed to fold our children's hands in ours and repeat this mantra type thing and then say three "oms" and say "Namaste" to our babies. Yeah, as you can imagine, Liam was like, "You said we'd go for breakfast." And wanted nothing to do with the class finale.
So much to Low Talker's chagrin, we will not be going back to Baby Yoga. As much as I had high hopes, it just wasn't a good fit. I don't think I was the kind of mother they were looking for there. Katie and Rose bought the punch card, and then started an in depth discussion on cloth diapering. We snuck out. She had mentioned starting a baby dance class, which is more up Liam's alley, but we will start baby swim class in July and try that.
And then we went for breakfast. And Liam got a pancake in the shape of Mickey, and he was in heaven.
---
Andy worked on Saturday morning, so Liam and I had the whole day to ourselves. It was like a dream. No painting, no plans to be anywhere. Just. Us. So I decided to take him to Mommy and Baby Yoga at a studio in Camp Hill (about 35 minutes away, for those who care). So I dressed him in a little comfy outfit, put on my yoga gear, grabbed my mat (never been to a yoga class, yet I own a mat. Go fig.) and out the door we went.
When I was imagining baby yoga, I was expecting a few twenty-something moms, driving in their Volvos and other five-star safety test rated cars, toting immaculate GAP-wearing babes with perfectly organized Coach diaper bags. I pictured perfect bodies and perfect pony tails and perfect nails. Essentially just a photoshoot for Fit Pregnancy Magazine.
When we got there, we were early and they weren't open yet. The teacher wasn't even there. Liam and I sat and watched the cars until a VW mini bus pulled up, the bumper sticker on the side pondering, "Got Autoharp?" Since I had forgotten my autoharp, I was interested to see who was getting out of the hippy van, and if she in fact had remembered hers.
If I had to make a guess, I'd say the girl was younger than me, her name was Katie and her baby's name was Rose. She was about four months old. (Liam immediately tried to rip off her face. I intervened with a quiet "gentle, Liam" and he decided to hold her hand instead.) We started talking about breastfeeding and I proudly announced that I had made it to five months (just about) and Liam was healthy and happy. She had plans to breast feed until Rose was graduating high school. Oops. But she was friendly and I liked her.
The teach arrived and opened the class room, and we went in. The teacher was a low talker and slightly vague about where we should sit and what we should do. In the front of the yoga area there was a little boutique which was filled with organic products, baby wearing apparatus, and breast feeding paraphernalia. A huge sign stated, "We welcome breast feeding here." Katie immediately whipped one of hers out and Rose obliged.
A third mom came in toting a PJ wearing baby named Zade who was a few weeks older than Liam. He had curly hair and his skin was like milk chocolate. He was busy chewing on his fingers, which lead me to believe he too was getting teeth. HE was no where as active Liam, but I've often noticed that Liam is far more active than other babies.
Which is probably why he wouldn't lay still when we were doing yoga over him, and why every time I tried to do the baby stretches and massages that Low Talker was instructing us to do, he would laugh and flip over and try to crawl away. Zade ended up falling asleep. Rose was breast fed again and changed. Her brightly colored cloth diapers intrigued me, but not enough to go out and buy a bunch.
Liam was enjoying it for the most part, mostly gawking to see exactly what Rose was doing, but he enjoyed the ups and downs and he giggled with all the massages we were instructed to do. He wanted to stand and flip over and crawl and basically just take Low Talker's place at the head of the class. I finally popped in a pacifier so he'd calm down a little. Every mother gasped.
She didn't just put that dreaded piece of plastic in her child's mouth...did she?
Oh yes, she did.
At the end of the class, the teacher turned out the lights and we were supposed to fold our children's hands in ours and repeat this mantra type thing and then say three "oms" and say "Namaste" to our babies. Yeah, as you can imagine, Liam was like, "You said we'd go for breakfast." And wanted nothing to do with the class finale.
So much to Low Talker's chagrin, we will not be going back to Baby Yoga. As much as I had high hopes, it just wasn't a good fit. I don't think I was the kind of mother they were looking for there. Katie and Rose bought the punch card, and then started an in depth discussion on cloth diapering. We snuck out. She had mentioned starting a baby dance class, which is more up Liam's alley, but we will start baby swim class in July and try that.
And then we went for breakfast. And Liam got a pancake in the shape of Mickey, and he was in heaven.
Friday, May 17, 2013
When a Man loves a Woman.
Liam does this thing where he roots ALL his toys out of his toy box. So now that he's mobile, for the most part, he sits there and pulls the box over on himself and just starts taking out every toy. And then when there are no more toys in the box, he cries until I come and put them ALL back in again. Then repeat.
There's so much to learn when you're a parent. Most of it is trial and error, but that child never stops loving you because you're the provider of their basic needs. Without you, their diapers won't get changed, their tummys won't be filled, and they'll be naked. Their love is unconditional in that respect- and so in turn we should be learning from THEM.
--
Everything changes after a baby is born, and for men it's just as tough. Even though they don't have any physical changes like we do, emotionally it's all different. So much more is expected of them. We live in a society that is so quick to express their feelings on equal rights and the liberation of the sexes, but when we find a woman pregnant there is a push to know who the father is. It takes two to tango. If the pregnancy is unplanned, we want to know if the father is going to "do the right thing" and stick around. Entire companies base their earnings on finding out "who's the daddy." It's obvious who mom is, but who is that masked man anyway?
When we got to the hospital, Andy looked in my eyes and said to me, "This is your night. Whatever you need I will provide you. You call the shots." He's never said that to me before. But looking back I realize it's because he had NO idea what to do and he was looking to me for guidance. Even after the classes and the practicing and the reading, when the moment hit- he was clueless.
I think women realize this, and so they start to feel like the mother to the baby AND the husband. For instance, I always used to pick out Andy's clothing on a Sunday morning. I didn't think about it. I just matched up the tie with the shirt and pants, and that was that. Now on Sunday mornings I've got Liam and myself to dress, and I just want Andy to dress himself. But that was always the ROUTINE before, and it was comfortable and he got used to it. I have to make sure everyone is fed. I have to make sure everyone has something clean to wear. General things we took for granted before are now issues because they are breaking routine. Men get a HUGE bad rep for this. They wanted to know when and why things changed. Routine- if you had one before, do what you can to find out which portions of it are important to your husband. Fit them in- it's not going to kill you.
It's no secret that men are visual animals. It's no secret that women love yoga pants. It's no secret that men like sex. It's no secret that women like to sleep. If you have a husband who is very in tune with his sexual needs, this might be a point of contention ESPECIALLY because men are smart enough to know what just happened to your body. If their mother's raised them to respect women, they will not speak of sex after you've birthed their child. However it doesn't mean that they don't want it. It may become that proverbial "white elephant" in the room as everyone is waiting for the perfect time to get back into the bed, so to speak. Women may be thinking- how can you think of sex at a time like this?! Do you see what I look like? Do you know what I've just been through? While then men are asking- how can you NOT think of sex at a time like this? I just watched you do the most amazing, strong and powerful thing in the WORLD and I'm attracted to you!
Hear that? Your husband is attracted to you after pregnancy. You married him for a reason, remember? He gets that your body is different now. He doesn't want to hurt you. Men- you've got a woman who feels desperately unattractive. Her body has been through roughly a year of transformation. There is not ONE THING on her body that has not changed- from her hair to her eyes to her bellybutton to her feet. She looks in the mirror and she hates what she sees. Be sensitive to this. It's not going to go back to normal over night. The sex will come. Work at it.
And about that "normal" thing. I want to reiterate that there is no such thing. Quit looking back to get yourself "back" to normal. Look ahead and make plans for the future. You'll get back into your jeans, don't worry. But everything will change, and you need to be okay with that. No matter how strong your marriage is, there are going to be bumps. If there are no bumps, check your husband's pulse, and while you're at it, check your own.
--
A baby's love is unconditional because they can't meet their own needs. Take a lesson from this. Remember husbands are a gift to us to help meet the needs we can't meet on our own. Model your love for your husband after your love your child has for you. Give each other second chances. Realize we're imperfect. Practice kindness. Give lots of kisses. Remember your manners. Never stop talking.
There's so much to learn when you're a parent. Most of it is trial and error, but that child never stops loving you because you're the provider of their basic needs. Without you, their diapers won't get changed, their tummys won't be filled, and they'll be naked. Their love is unconditional in that respect- and so in turn we should be learning from THEM.
--
Everything changes after a baby is born, and for men it's just as tough. Even though they don't have any physical changes like we do, emotionally it's all different. So much more is expected of them. We live in a society that is so quick to express their feelings on equal rights and the liberation of the sexes, but when we find a woman pregnant there is a push to know who the father is. It takes two to tango. If the pregnancy is unplanned, we want to know if the father is going to "do the right thing" and stick around. Entire companies base their earnings on finding out "who's the daddy." It's obvious who mom is, but who is that masked man anyway?
When we got to the hospital, Andy looked in my eyes and said to me, "This is your night. Whatever you need I will provide you. You call the shots." He's never said that to me before. But looking back I realize it's because he had NO idea what to do and he was looking to me for guidance. Even after the classes and the practicing and the reading, when the moment hit- he was clueless.
I think women realize this, and so they start to feel like the mother to the baby AND the husband. For instance, I always used to pick out Andy's clothing on a Sunday morning. I didn't think about it. I just matched up the tie with the shirt and pants, and that was that. Now on Sunday mornings I've got Liam and myself to dress, and I just want Andy to dress himself. But that was always the ROUTINE before, and it was comfortable and he got used to it. I have to make sure everyone is fed. I have to make sure everyone has something clean to wear. General things we took for granted before are now issues because they are breaking routine. Men get a HUGE bad rep for this. They wanted to know when and why things changed. Routine- if you had one before, do what you can to find out which portions of it are important to your husband. Fit them in- it's not going to kill you.
It's no secret that men are visual animals. It's no secret that women love yoga pants. It's no secret that men like sex. It's no secret that women like to sleep. If you have a husband who is very in tune with his sexual needs, this might be a point of contention ESPECIALLY because men are smart enough to know what just happened to your body. If their mother's raised them to respect women, they will not speak of sex after you've birthed their child. However it doesn't mean that they don't want it. It may become that proverbial "white elephant" in the room as everyone is waiting for the perfect time to get back into the bed, so to speak. Women may be thinking- how can you think of sex at a time like this?! Do you see what I look like? Do you know what I've just been through? While then men are asking- how can you NOT think of sex at a time like this? I just watched you do the most amazing, strong and powerful thing in the WORLD and I'm attracted to you!
Hear that? Your husband is attracted to you after pregnancy. You married him for a reason, remember? He gets that your body is different now. He doesn't want to hurt you. Men- you've got a woman who feels desperately unattractive. Her body has been through roughly a year of transformation. There is not ONE THING on her body that has not changed- from her hair to her eyes to her bellybutton to her feet. She looks in the mirror and she hates what she sees. Be sensitive to this. It's not going to go back to normal over night. The sex will come. Work at it.
And about that "normal" thing. I want to reiterate that there is no such thing. Quit looking back to get yourself "back" to normal. Look ahead and make plans for the future. You'll get back into your jeans, don't worry. But everything will change, and you need to be okay with that. No matter how strong your marriage is, there are going to be bumps. If there are no bumps, check your husband's pulse, and while you're at it, check your own.
--
A baby's love is unconditional because they can't meet their own needs. Take a lesson from this. Remember husbands are a gift to us to help meet the needs we can't meet on our own. Model your love for your husband after your love your child has for you. Give each other second chances. Realize we're imperfect. Practice kindness. Give lots of kisses. Remember your manners. Never stop talking.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
The New Normal
I haven't been writing as much lately, because I'm not sure there's much more to write about. Sometimes I feel like my posts are mundane- uneventful, even. But a friend and reader was asking me, "What happens when this is all over?" And I thought it a very good question, and worthy of an entry. I'll finish my post on baby-lead weening later.
--
Last night I went to see Start Trek with my husband at midnight. When I told my friends this, they thought I was insane. And maybe I was. I knew he wanted to go, and in my attempt to be "one of the guys," I ordered up the tickets for the midnight showing, and off we went. During the movie we cuddled and I fed him M&M's and we split popcorn and it was this amazing time that felt like we were dating again. Except we both had wedding rings on and we came home and had sex...but other than that, it was like we were 18 again.
This has been a long time coming. This is a huge step for us.
A few weeks ago he was slamming the door, threatening to leave. A few weeks ago I was sitting in my car with the baby, counting my cash and texting a friend that we were just leaving. Just driving until we ran out of gas with nothing but the clothing on our backs. This was happening consistently for a solid month. He left us twice, I left once. There's still a mark on the wall where he kicked it with all his might. I remember clearly the look on Liam's face when he grabbed his wallet, walked out of the house and said "I'm done." I distinctly remember how I felt as I was counting the cash in my purse from my last painting job, texting Alison, "I'm doing it. I'm leaving him."
After that baby comes out, you have half a million feelings all balled up, and you're emotional and your body is vastly different. Your hips are considerably larger, for a start. Your chest cavity expands, as do your boobs- even after you're done nursing. Shirts that used to fit now span you. There is extra skin around your midsection and it won't go away. You sit down and it all piles up under your boobs. Your feet are wider than you remembered them. Your hair and nails begin to fall out and break off. What was once luscious and sexy is now just coming out in your hands every shower. And all along, all you can think is, "My goodness I'm hideous."
But I need to tell you something. It DOES get better, but it will never go back to where it once was. You will eventually fit into your old jeans, but they won't fit the same as before. Eventually your chest will shrink back, but you're not going to fill your bras the same way. Your feet will come back down to size, but your shoes may stay stretched out. Do not expect the high school you to suddenly make a come back. It's not supposed to. You are a mother now- life has changed.
It's going to take work. Andy and I said it out loud, and it's like our world just stopped. We were hiking up this huge hill, and we had just had yet another blow out (a very, very public blow out) before we started our trek. I just was looking at the ground, panting, chugging up this hill like a train, and I said it out loud- "Andy. What's happening to us." It was the saying out loud thing that really changed us, I feel. "We're falling apart."
We started a marriage Renaissance, and the first thing we had to come to terms with was that we are NOT the people we were last year this time. And we both needed to start with kindness. I heard someone bashing their body as I was bashing mine, and I realized how unattractive it was. I stopped immediately. We started saying things like "please" and "thank you" and being acutely aware when the other person was going out of their way to make something happen. And we started dating again. Every Thursday night I meet him at the local pizza joint, without Liam, and we just sit in each other's presence for 30 minutes.
I'm also making time for myself to go to the gym. I'm getting active again. We bought a bike trailer and a helmet for Liam. I get the pack out and walk with him if I can't make it to the gym. Andy is realizing that for me, going to the gym is therapy. I've set goals for my self- attainable goals- about how I look. In my heart, I believe it's getting better.
I started reading through a book called "The Power of a Praying Wife" and day by day, I'm noticing changes in my husband. It's a powerful book. I highly recommend it. I read it every day, pray the prayers in the book, and then pray for our marriage. I believe it works.
So last night, as we're canoodling in a theatre, it was a little bit like we needed to get back to the beginning to start again. Like two teenagers, wrapped in each other, because we knew when the lights came up in the theatre, the moment would be over. Today I feel like trash...but a good trash. When I get home, there should be a little package from Fredrick's of Hollywood waiting for me. Another sign of the new normal.
More on this in the next few days.
--
Last night I went to see Start Trek with my husband at midnight. When I told my friends this, they thought I was insane. And maybe I was. I knew he wanted to go, and in my attempt to be "one of the guys," I ordered up the tickets for the midnight showing, and off we went. During the movie we cuddled and I fed him M&M's and we split popcorn and it was this amazing time that felt like we were dating again. Except we both had wedding rings on and we came home and had sex...but other than that, it was like we were 18 again.
This has been a long time coming. This is a huge step for us.
A few weeks ago he was slamming the door, threatening to leave. A few weeks ago I was sitting in my car with the baby, counting my cash and texting a friend that we were just leaving. Just driving until we ran out of gas with nothing but the clothing on our backs. This was happening consistently for a solid month. He left us twice, I left once. There's still a mark on the wall where he kicked it with all his might. I remember clearly the look on Liam's face when he grabbed his wallet, walked out of the house and said "I'm done." I distinctly remember how I felt as I was counting the cash in my purse from my last painting job, texting Alison, "I'm doing it. I'm leaving him."
After that baby comes out, you have half a million feelings all balled up, and you're emotional and your body is vastly different. Your hips are considerably larger, for a start. Your chest cavity expands, as do your boobs- even after you're done nursing. Shirts that used to fit now span you. There is extra skin around your midsection and it won't go away. You sit down and it all piles up under your boobs. Your feet are wider than you remembered them. Your hair and nails begin to fall out and break off. What was once luscious and sexy is now just coming out in your hands every shower. And all along, all you can think is, "My goodness I'm hideous."
But I need to tell you something. It DOES get better, but it will never go back to where it once was. You will eventually fit into your old jeans, but they won't fit the same as before. Eventually your chest will shrink back, but you're not going to fill your bras the same way. Your feet will come back down to size, but your shoes may stay stretched out. Do not expect the high school you to suddenly make a come back. It's not supposed to. You are a mother now- life has changed.
It's going to take work. Andy and I said it out loud, and it's like our world just stopped. We were hiking up this huge hill, and we had just had yet another blow out (a very, very public blow out) before we started our trek. I just was looking at the ground, panting, chugging up this hill like a train, and I said it out loud- "Andy. What's happening to us." It was the saying out loud thing that really changed us, I feel. "We're falling apart."
We started a marriage Renaissance, and the first thing we had to come to terms with was that we are NOT the people we were last year this time. And we both needed to start with kindness. I heard someone bashing their body as I was bashing mine, and I realized how unattractive it was. I stopped immediately. We started saying things like "please" and "thank you" and being acutely aware when the other person was going out of their way to make something happen. And we started dating again. Every Thursday night I meet him at the local pizza joint, without Liam, and we just sit in each other's presence for 30 minutes.
I'm also making time for myself to go to the gym. I'm getting active again. We bought a bike trailer and a helmet for Liam. I get the pack out and walk with him if I can't make it to the gym. Andy is realizing that for me, going to the gym is therapy. I've set goals for my self- attainable goals- about how I look. In my heart, I believe it's getting better.
I started reading through a book called "The Power of a Praying Wife" and day by day, I'm noticing changes in my husband. It's a powerful book. I highly recommend it. I read it every day, pray the prayers in the book, and then pray for our marriage. I believe it works.
So last night, as we're canoodling in a theatre, it was a little bit like we needed to get back to the beginning to start again. Like two teenagers, wrapped in each other, because we knew when the lights came up in the theatre, the moment would be over. Today I feel like trash...but a good trash. When I get home, there should be a little package from Fredrick's of Hollywood waiting for me. Another sign of the new normal.
More on this in the next few days.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Here I am. Again.
Truths about PPD:
1) it sucks
2) you do get through it
False about PPD:
1) you're going to harm your baby
2) you're going to leave your husband
Coming out of PPD is like hiking a huge hill. As you're hiking up and up and up, there's no end in sight. All you see is hill in front of you. And then suddenly you reach the top, and you see the view and you remember why you started hiking in the first place. But you've changed on the way up. Your muscles are tense. You're out of breath. You're starving and thirsty. You look back down at where you came from and you realize that it's over, and you don't have to climb it again.
I've been going to therapy, which will be done next week. I took anti depressants for a bit- but they made me sleepy and they made me foggy, and they made me not want sex. So I stopped them. I haven't told anyone. I'm supposed to be on them until October. Shhh. They are sitting beside my bed on my nightstand, but unless someone shakes the bottle or notices no water is gone from my water bottle, my secret is safe.
I'm going to the gym on a regular basis and I'm back in my pre pregnancy clothing. This does HUGE things for your morale. HUGE things.
Andy and I have been working through things together. We're working on being kind. Just. Kindness. Saying things like "thank you" and "please." He's been getting up with Liam, which is very kind. We've been putting down the phones more and playing with our son more. And slowly the healing is beginning.
Liam has been sleeping through the night again, which means I have more energy to do things like clean and do dishes- doing all of this while holding Liam in the front pack. Maybe that's how I've lost the weight? Because I have a 16 lb weight on my chest at most all times!
But all things considered- it's good to be back. My sweet boy turned 7 months yesterday. He falls asleep every night with his forehead on mine and his hand on my cheek. I'm blessed beyond measure.
1) it sucks
2) you do get through it
False about PPD:
1) you're going to harm your baby
2) you're going to leave your husband
Coming out of PPD is like hiking a huge hill. As you're hiking up and up and up, there's no end in sight. All you see is hill in front of you. And then suddenly you reach the top, and you see the view and you remember why you started hiking in the first place. But you've changed on the way up. Your muscles are tense. You're out of breath. You're starving and thirsty. You look back down at where you came from and you realize that it's over, and you don't have to climb it again.
I've been going to therapy, which will be done next week. I took anti depressants for a bit- but they made me sleepy and they made me foggy, and they made me not want sex. So I stopped them. I haven't told anyone. I'm supposed to be on them until October. Shhh. They are sitting beside my bed on my nightstand, but unless someone shakes the bottle or notices no water is gone from my water bottle, my secret is safe.
I'm going to the gym on a regular basis and I'm back in my pre pregnancy clothing. This does HUGE things for your morale. HUGE things.
Andy and I have been working through things together. We're working on being kind. Just. Kindness. Saying things like "thank you" and "please." He's been getting up with Liam, which is very kind. We've been putting down the phones more and playing with our son more. And slowly the healing is beginning.
Liam has been sleeping through the night again, which means I have more energy to do things like clean and do dishes- doing all of this while holding Liam in the front pack. Maybe that's how I've lost the weight? Because I have a 16 lb weight on my chest at most all times!
But all things considered- it's good to be back. My sweet boy turned 7 months yesterday. He falls asleep every night with his forehead on mine and his hand on my cheek. I'm blessed beyond measure.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Not in the mood
I haven't posted in a long time. Don't take it personally. I just haven't felt like it. That's the thing with depression- sometimes you just don't feel like it. So you don't. You don't ANYTHING.
I'm writing now because I feel compelled to do so. You see, since writing this blog, many ladies have confessed many secrets to me. My calendar is now filled with initials followed by dates, times, treatments and week counts. I'm keeping up with all of them- rejoicing with those who rejoice, crying with those who cry.
Tonight I wait with bated breath for a gal who is expectantly waiting to call her doctor first thing in the morning. Who has seen the second line, however faint, and is now cramping and spotting. And though I am a girl of many words, I have no words for her. My little black letters on the texting screen on my iPhone seem few and pointless.
So tonight I hold my little Liam tight and pray for B's someday baby. Life is hard, but God is good.
I'm writing now because I feel compelled to do so. You see, since writing this blog, many ladies have confessed many secrets to me. My calendar is now filled with initials followed by dates, times, treatments and week counts. I'm keeping up with all of them- rejoicing with those who rejoice, crying with those who cry.
Tonight I wait with bated breath for a gal who is expectantly waiting to call her doctor first thing in the morning. Who has seen the second line, however faint, and is now cramping and spotting. And though I am a girl of many words, I have no words for her. My little black letters on the texting screen on my iPhone seem few and pointless.
So tonight I hold my little Liam tight and pray for B's someday baby. Life is hard, but God is good.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Opening Day
Any ideas on whom my husband is teaching my son to root for when it comes ot baseball?
Just so happens that Daddy's day to watch Liam turned out to be opening day for baseball, so they shared the moment.
Just so happens that Daddy's day to watch Liam turned out to be opening day for baseball, so they shared the moment.
Liam doesn't go anywhere on Daddy Day without his Sox hat :)
And he clearly didn't last the game. I got home in time to hear Andy whisper to him, "We won your first game, son..." And my heart melted a little.
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