12.31.2004 | 9:42 pm | Uncategorized, Gray Matters, Infertility/Miscarriage
It’s New Year’s Eve. I was asked recently to recall 3 happy moments that I experienced in 2004. The first that came to mind are:
*My first Mother’s Day. Mother’s Day had always been very difficult for me because of my…well, my lack of Motherhood. Churches make it very difficult for childless women by making a big to-do of the day, having all the mothers stand and be recognized, while the not-quite-up-to-par women sit, painfully conspicuous, with an aching emptiness in their heart. Those who have never had problems conceiving or staying pregnant, can never understand this type of pain, nor the shameful feeling childlessness can bring. I sure do. But this year, I was finally a Mother. And it was a beautiful day.
*Seeing President Bush in person. It was an amazing day that I’ll never forget. I am so glad I dragged my butt out of bed that morning and went, despite feeling ill and terribly tired.
*Grayson’s milestones…all of them. It has been an incredible year of watching him grow and change and blossom into more and more independence. Of course, seeing this growing autonomy is a little bittersweet, knowing he’s soon not going to be my
baby anymore, but alas, that is my job as a mother…to help him to not need me anymore. It’s just been a wonderful year seeing him turn into who he is now, and I’m so excited to see who he’ll become in his second year!
Happy New Year! (Maybe next year I’ll stay up and celebrate!)
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12.28.2004 | 6:39 pm | Uncategorized
I think I might be psychic. Not the kooky 900-number or palm-reader type, but more like the kind who dreams things before they happen. Okay, I don’t REALLY believe I’m psychic, but this IS weird. Read on…
I have several recurring dreams; ones that I have dreamed over and over again in my life, many since childhood.
•There is the tornado dream, where I’m watching a deadly tornado (sometimes many tornados) head toward me and my loved ones as we huddle helplessly in our home (or wherever…it varies, but we’re always helpless and terrified).
•The betrayal dream, where my husband betrays me horribly in some way (hey, with my first husband, they all turned out to be true–SEE? Haha!). Luckily, I am now married to a wonderful man in whom I trust completely, but I still have those dreams.
•The reconciliation dream, where my best friend from high school and I are finally able to make up after all these years of estrangement. It’s always disappointing to wake up and realize that she still isn’t speaking to me.
•The back-in-high-school dream, where I am—you guessed it—back in high school, along with Philip, and all our old classmates are there. For some reason, it’s almost always the first day of school and I’m almost always not able to find my way to all my new classes.
•There’s always the trying-to-run-but-can’t-run-for-some-reason dream, and that one just TOTALLY sucks.
•And then, there is the Tsunami dream.
I am always at the beach, usually with Philip, when a giant tidal wave swells up from the Gulf and, after we watch helplessly from our hotel room for what seems like forever, it finally crashes into us.
I had this dream early Friday morning. I awakened with a relieved feeling that it hadn’t actually happened. Whew! I even told Philip about it once we were all up & about, giving him all the details of how we were running down the beach along with crowds of people, trying to escape the vast, menacing waves that were chasing us.
Then on Sunday, I learned that what had been my typical scary dream, had actually become a horrible reality for thousands upon THOUSANDS of helpless people throughout Southeast Asia. I found the coincidental timing to be a little unnerving. I actually began pondering whether or not my dream had been a premonition. But my analytical-minded husband brought me to reality by saying that made no sense….Why? What could I have done? Stopped the earthquake? I think he’s right. But still, isn’t it strange?
I hope help comes quickly to all the desperate people in these countries. It’s a TRUE nightmare for them; worse than all of mine put together, that’s for sure. My heart goes out to them, and I know God’s does, too.
Today’s mood: still a teensy bit weirded-out.
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12.19.2004 | 10:51 am | Daily Life, Gray Matters, Breastfeeding
My son has taken up drinking.
His mama couldn’t be happier.
I’ve been whining for months about this. Gray, who never did take a bottle, has completely refused to take a sippy cup ever since I introduced it to him at six months. I tried every brand of cup, with valves, without valves, expensive ones, cheapies. I tried giving him water, apple juice, orange juice, Kool-Aid (I know, BAD mommy!), and––once he turned 11 months––cow’s milk. All of these he LOVES to drink out of OUR cups, but he would NEVER take more than a couple of sips from his sippy cup at a sitting, though I’ve tried repeatedly at every meal. And so for months I’ve nursed him both before AND after his solid meals, just to quench his thirst. A total of 7 times per day, which I’ve never minded (that’s when I get to have reading time! LOL), but at a year old, I was becoming slightly concerned, as I’d hoped to be able to wean him down to just a couple of nursings per day by this point. And, although I relish ignoring them, it gets tiring hearing people say “he’s eating AGAIN?”, as if it’s any of their business how or when my (healthy, happy) child eats. After a year of breastfeeding I’ve become quite adept at keeping my smile while I roll my eyes on the inside at some of the stupid comments I’ve heard.
Cut to Saturday, Dec. 18 (yesterday!).
He suddenly took to the sippy cup yesterday. Out of the freakin’ blue. It was like a lightbulb clicked on!
At lunch I gave him cow’s milk in his sippy. I thought to warm it first, just to take the chill off . I tipped it up for him to drink, and he grabbed it away from me with both hands and just started guzzling! I was dumbstruck. I clapped and cheered, which caused him to grin but he never took his mouth off that spout–he just kept on chugging, as if he’s known all along how to do it (little stinker probably HAS). He ended up drinking the couple of ounces I’d put in there–all by himself! Then I refilled it w/water, just to see what he’d do, and he drank it ALL (should’ve seen that diaper afterwards!).
This morning before his cereal I tried giving him apple juice. I gave him the cup and he just tipped it up and started drinking it down like a pro. He drank the entire cupful while I was mixing & warming his cereal! He seemed so proud of himself! Oh yeah and he screamed and started banging his head on the highchair when I took it away (one of his increasingly frequent CAM moments).
This is BIG in our household! B I G !
I was able to skip his after-breakfast/before nap nursing session! What freedom. And along with that, what incredible FULLNESS…ugh…better go now and find my ice pack. LOL I predict I’ll be seeing a lot of it in the next few weeks.
Today’s mood: FULL of joy and proud of my boy!
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12.15.2004 | 3:58 pm | Uncategorized, Daily Life
So it got down in the 20s here last night––upper 20’s to be exact. I’m not a cold wimp like so many of my fellow North Floridians. : ) Folks here break out the heavy jackets and sweaters when it dips below 60 degrees. Living in Alaska and then in New York made me realize what’s truly cold and what is not really cold. In New York, anything above 32 degrees could easily be considered short-sleeve weather. In Alaska, it was considered shorts & sandals weather–and I’m not exaggerating. I can remember seeing a couple of teenagers in an icy Taco Bell parking lot on an EIGHT-degree day, decked out in shorts and birkenstocks (with socks, of course…no need for frostbitten toes!).
Anyway, all this rambling to say that it cracks me up that they are now issuing FREEZE warnings on our local channels for nights like last night. Not just on the weather report, which would be appropriate––I’m talking about a blue ticker at the bottom of the screen during prime time, the same type of warning they give for a tornado or other severe weather. Wahaha! I’ve never seen this before, but it tickles me. I mean, in Winter, there is a freeze nearly every night up north, and I doubt they’re doing this; they didn’t do it when I lived there (My fellow Southerners are probably honing their best “We don’t care how you did it up north!” muscles as they read this! Hahaha!).
I mentioned in my last entry that Reagan was going to have to tough it outside. And, he did. We were a little concerned about him because there was a brisk wind that made everything feel much colder, so we put his doggy bed in the back of the pickup truck. He LOVED that! He hopped right in and curled up for the night. We had it up against the corner at the cab of the truck, so as to protect him from the wind.
This morning when we got up, I went out to check on him. When he saw me, he popped up and looked at me so pitifully! I could see him shaking before I touched him. When I put my hands on him, he was shivering SO badly. I felt awful! We let him in the house to warm up, but he was confined to one particular corner since he is unbelievably filthy! He was pretty happy though, about getting to come in for a while. We put him back out at Gray’s naptime, which was fine with him because by then it had warmed considerably and he had lots of nice sunny spots where he could lay down and soak up the heat.
Tonight I will feel bad about having him outside again, but, what can we do? If only we could make him understand that he must refrain from barking whenever someone four blocks away closes their car door. ––––––OMGosh, speaking OF! As I write this, Gray is napping and Reagan just burst into a barking fit outside (his bark is LOUD and excessive!)! It was the UPS guy delivering a package. I ducked into Gray’s room and shut the door, just as he began stirring from all the noise. But he didn’t wake up. Whew! Now I’m not feeling so bad about tonight anymore…
Anybody want a 6-yr old Shepherd mix?
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12.13.2004 | 6:54 pm | Uncategorized, Daily Life, Gray Matters, Ranting
What has happened to my sweet, easygoing little fella? Gray has been a bear the last two days. He is throwing uncharacteristic tantrums and is very clingy. Not like him at all! He’s never been one for being held, but lately he’s following me around practically pulling my britches down with his tugging for me to take him. I don’t mind holding him really, but it’s amazing to see such a sudden change.
He’s been doing things he KNOWS he’s not supposed to do, KNOWING he’s gonna get his hand spanked, but he’s doing it anyway––and he will LOOK RIGHT AT ME while he does it (and while I’m saying “NO!”). When he gets his spanking, he has a full-fledged meltdown, complete with hilariously overdone drama. He throws himself backward and screams so violently that his lips turn blue! I just hold him and tell him I understand that he’s mad/frustrated/whatever, but that he knows he’s not to do something I tell him not to do. *sigh* I am working hard at being consistent with the discipline & the boundaries––and he’s working hard at pushing every one of them!
All this said, he’s still his usual sweet self at least 3/4 of the time. And I love him ALL the time, regardless.
It is butt-dog freezing outside today and will be all week. Poor Reagan will have to tough it outside, since he feels the need to bark at every little bump in the night, and that just doesn’t work well with a baby in the house. It’s bad enough with our super-redneck neighbors who don’t know how to drive a vehicle that isn’t audible a mile away. I’ve ranted about this in another post, but, my WORD….it is inconceivable to me that people continue to drive vehicles that run so badly.
I just heard some good news blaring from the TV in the next room. 2004’s consumer data shows that the low-carb craze is slowing considerably. Kelly, if you’re reading this, you & I might soon be able to find our salad dressing again! LOL! Studies have shown that the “amazing” weight loss that people achieve on this fad diet only lasts until they fall off the wagon. DUH! Just like every other fad diet––past, present, and future. The report said that people are finding that CALORIES COUNT, and the only way they can lose weight and keep it off, is good old fashioned healthy diet and lots of exercise. Wow, what a breakthrough! The hard work and personal responsibility concept! If ONLY there were a way to market that and sell it, the sheep would line up and would––finally––get in shape and get healthy. Period.
My only disclaimer here is that I’m currently 30 stinking pounds heavier than I was before I got pregnant. But I’m not blaming it on bread and veggies, for pete’s sake.
It’s those dang Oreos….hahaha.
Today’s mood: Did someone say Oreos? Mmmmmm…..
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12.10.2004 | 10:44 pm | Uncategorized, Gray Matters
HAPPY BIRTHDAY LITTLE GRAY! Dec. 10 one year ago, you were born, at 2:02AM. This picture is from just a couple minutes after:
I have discovered the song that will forever be mine & yours. “December Child”, by Cyndi Lauper. Many thanks to my friend Heather who introduced me to it, and also many thanks to Master Lee, whose magic touch enabled me to figure out how to AudioBlog. 
Here are the lyrics, and the audio follows. Grab a kleenex.
“December Child” by Cyndi Lauper (off her “Merry Christmas, Have a Nice Life” CD):
Close your eyes December Child
And dream a while my little son and moon
May the stars be your crown
And may the earth guide you round and round
Snuggle up and let me hold and kiss
Your baby breath in the dark and cold
On a silent night long ago
Another mother held her babe and told him
Close your eyes December Child
And dream a while my little son and moon
May the stars be your crown
And may the earth guide you round and round
They had come such a long long way
Rest your little head on me and I’ll tell you of
A little king and his bed of hay
It is remembered every Christmas day
Little one, little son
All my life I’ve wished you welcome
Close your eyes December Child
And dream a while my little son and moon
May the stars be your crown
And may the earth guide you round and round
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12.7.2004 | 9:35 am | Uncategorized, Gray Matters, Breastfeeding, Natural Pregnancy & Birthing, Infertility/Miscarriage, Writings
My baby’s first birthday is coming up on December 10!
Grayson, as you turn one whole year old, I’m finding myself swimming in a flood of emotions.
For one thing, I wonder how a year can pass so swiftly. The year before you were born eked by at such a dreadfully slow pace as I waited impatiently for your arrival, awash with all the worries and scares that accompanied my pregnancy. But since your birth last December, every month seems to have raced by more fleetingly than the last! The old saying comes to mind: “They grow up so fast!” I’ve discovered that—despite the cliché—it’s the absolute truth, and you are proving it to me daily as I watch you change and grow seemingly by the minute!
Over the past twelve months, there have been many days where that reality hits me hard, and I’ve literally ached for the ability to stop time and hold on to you for just a little bit longer, exactly as you are at that very moment. But I know it’s not possible, and so I do my best to try to commit to memory every little thing about you, things I will remember when you’re all grown up and not my little baby anymore.
I know for sure that I’ll never forget the moment you were born, nor the arduous hours of sweat and suffering that led up to it. The intense pain and––finally––the grueling work of pushing you out gave way to sheer euphoria, something akin to a “runner’s high,” when you slipped from my body and into the beginning of your new life. As you were placed into my arms, I took you in, all red and raw and lustily gasping for breath. You were hot and plump, with skin so moist it felt spongy. You whimpered softly at first, but eventually came your shaky little cries. I remember thinking you were absolutely beautiful—all nine pounds of you! Those first giddy moments with you were the start of my new life, as well. In just ten hours, I was transformed from a mere woman to a Mother, a radical metamorphosis that changed me to the very core.
I don’t think I’ll forget how confusing and difficult those first few weeks were, as I adjusted to the enormity of that aforementioned change of roles. Nor will I forget how the hardship eventually faded, replaced by a confidence that grew with each day of successfully meeting your most basic needs, and seeing you thrive as a result. It also helped my outlook a lot when you began sleeping through the night!
But I also want to remember the less dramatic things. And there are a few things I’d like for you to know, as well.
Like how badly I thought I wanted you to be a girl––up until the day I found out you weren’t. From then on, there was only you, and I’ve never been disappointed.
I want you to know the absolute thrill I felt when you first smiled at me. You were five weeks old, and it was such a solace to my weary, sleep-deprived soul to see a response to all the love I’d poured into you.
I want to remember how exciting it was to watch you come into realization of the world around you. And how joyful you sounded when you belted out your first belly laugh.
I want to remember the enormous sense of accomplishment I felt when six months rolled around and I was still breastfeeding you. I was able to look at you and know that nothing had ever entered your body that hadn’t come directly from my own, and so every inch—every pound—of your chubby little self was grown solely from the nurture of my milk. I knew then that I would make it to a year, a goal that had seemed unfathomable when we first started out. And now, as we approach one year together, neither of us seems to want to give it up just yet. So we’ll continue our nursing relationship until the day comes that you’re ready to quit. Even at 25 pounds and 32 inches, you still fit perfectly into my arms as you relax into me to find your comfort and sustenance. And, I want to you to know that I cherish every quiet moment that we spend tucked away from the world, with you at my breast. We are bound by blood, but I love that we also share the precious bond of milk, and all the sweet closeness it brings.
I want to remember how, when you first learned to crawl, you began bursting throughout the house with an energy and zeal so fervent it couldn’t be contained, bubbling over into a giddy string of squeals and giggles.
I never want to forget the sweet sound of your delightful baby voice. When I think that this gentle slip of a voice will someday change to the bass of a man’s, it brings tears to my eyes.
I want to remember every charming little “phase” you come up with. It seems there’s a new one each week! From the recent emergence of a goofy new laugh, to the exploding sound you make with your mouth when you see something or someone of interest, every phase is one I will forever treasure in my heart.
I want you to know that sometimes when you’re busy playing on your own, I sit back and watch you. I love to see what toy or object you’ve chosen to inspect so closely; to note the probing depth of your concentration as you examine, manipulate, and—invariably—taste it. Observing your innocent exploration always stirs up such tender feelings of affection in my heart. You simply amaze me.
I also want you to know that before I retire to bed each night, I slip into your darkened room, stand over your crib, and gaze at you in utter wonder as you sleep. As I hear your steady breathing and take you in, I am often moved to whisper a prayer of thanks to the One who was so gracious to give you to me.
And finally, I want to tell you how much you are loved…but no words will ever suffice. All I know is, I love you like I’ve never loved anyone else, in a way I never imagined was possible. I waited for you for over thirty years, and now that you’re here, at last I am whole. You brought an end to the suffocating silence of our childless home. You’ve given me immense joy and fulfillment just by being you. I finally possess the purpose and the calling that I’ve dreamt of all my life—I am your mother. And that, my dear sweet baby Gray, is something I will never, ever forget.
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2004’s Three Happys