(Additional note: It is only on Wednesday August 1st that I realize that I typed this on a Tuesday, not a Monday, thus proving a strong case for Mommy Brain as an actual disease inflicting mothers everywhere. But I think I’ll leave it as memory monday anyhow.)

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Why didn’t I take more pictures? I think this all the time. Some people would laugh at this statement, especially when scrolling through the 30+ gigs on my hard drive of his first two years. But there were many missed opportunities. I wish Scott had taken more pictures at his birth. And his first bath. Those are all blurry because the professional nazis nurses work so fast and he was screaming. Why didn’t I buy a better camera sooner? Why did I insist on trying not to use the flash the first month, resulting in many blurry shots? But the question I am asking today…why didn’t I take pictures of Caleb’s one trip to Georgia? My mom’s family lives there. She said my grandmother is ‘ready to be with Daddy.’ And I don’t have a single picture of my son with his great grandmother. I never will. I still remember the last time I saw my cousin William. I was about 13. It was the middle of the summer, and my mom and I were visiting family in Georgia. I don’t remember even knowing that he was a deputy sheriff. But I remember exactly how he looked. I remember how my grandmother’s furniture was arranged. She has this delicate loveseat covered in pink fabric. She had it positioned caddy corner by the doorway leading from her den to the sun porch. I had my nose buried in a Seventeen magazine as most 13 year old girls do. I didn’t even get up to see who had come to the door. He walked past the window between the sun porch (which used to be exposed to the outside, thus explaining the window between the rooms) and den. I was taken back by how handsome he looked. On his lunch break I think. He was in uniform, and he took his hat off and placed it over his heart as he entered the room, greeting three ladies as any gentleman would. When he sat down, he put his hat on his knee, and his arm behind my grandmother. Side by side on that loveseat. He looked so strong, and she looked so tiny. As if the loveseat may just tip and send her up in the air at any given second. I just sat quietly as my mom, grandmother and he visited. I can’t remember anything he said that day. I wish I could. I don’t even know whether I was listening. When you see someone so young, you never think that it could be the last time you see them. My grandmother said he came by once a week to visit. She seemed so proud of him. Looking back, I am too. Proud to have called him family. I remember hugging him before he left. I can’t remember hugging my grandmother last time I saw her. I know I did. But I can’t remember it. I can’t remember whether I was holding Caleb when I hugged her, or what room we were in. I can’t even remember what she looked like holding him. If only I had known that I wouldn’t see her again. That he wouldn’t remember meeting her that single time. If only I had tried harder to remember the details in those sleepless days with my 7 month old. If only I had taken just one picture…

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cuteness

Jul 29

Posted by: Rachel in: blog, caleb isaiah, memories, parenting

Just adding a few things I won’t remember in a few weeks…

To make up for all of the whining, Caleb has become more lovey dovey by the day. About six months ago, he randomly decided that we needed to kiss boo-boos. Maybe I was doing it before without thinking. But one day he fell down in the hallway and he stood up and kissed his hands. I laughed, and he came to me to have me do the same. From that day forward, any time he falls or does anything, we have to kiss it. Then it is like it never happened usually, and he goes barreling back into what ever he was doing that caused the “injury.” Well at some point a few days ago, he skinned his elbow. Enough so that it had to be cleaned off and bandaided. If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard “Yook Mommy, boo-boo feel beber [Look Mommy boo-boo feel better]” since then, I would be buying a new car. He has Little Einsteins bandaids, and sometimes he will ask for one for a tiny little bump that hasn’t even broken the skin. But I just kiss it, and it is all beber, and he runs off to get into trouble.

A few nights ago when I went to get him ready for bed, Shushybye Baby was on TV. Before you ask what the hell that is…we get Baby First TV, which is through DirecTV and Dish Network only at the moment I believe. Shushybye Baby is a show where big goofy looking furry people sized stoners muppets sing lullaby songs. The words to the theme song go like this: Shushbye and good night, close your eyes, sleep tight…. Cause I’m sure you wanted to know that… Anyway, I put Caleb up on the dresser to get him changed, and I sang the first two lines as I did it. He then sang “close your eeeyes, sleep tiiiight” in the absolute sweetest, softest little voice that it melted my heart. It was sooo adorable, probably one of those had to be there moments, but still. Maybe this will help me remember it years down the road, when he’d rather talk on the phone than hear a lullaby.

Today I gave him an oreo cookie while he was outside with daddy. He ate one of them and then started beating on the door (we have a metal storm door with a window in only the top half, so it was really loud, and he can’t quite open it by himself) I didn’t respond at first, so the knocking got louder and louder. I opened the door and he looked up with a cookie covered face and hands, thought about it for a second and said “One more cookie peeaze!”

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Main Entry: whin·ish
Function: noun
Much like the definition of it’s sister word giberish meaning unintelligible or meaningless language: a: a technical or esoteric language b: pretentious or needlessly obscure language, whinish is the lanuage following giberish, now using words in a whinny manner and fussing over every single little insignificant thing.

Caleb whines all day every day now. I deal with is better some days than others. Today is not an “I’m dealing with it okay” day. I took him to get his hair cut. He start flipping out as soon as I put him in the chair, so I opted to hold him. Now let me explain further. We haven’t been able to use the cape thingys since the first few haircuts. He flips out over them as well. So putting him in my lap means that both of us now get covered with hair instead of just him. So I whipped out the goldfish. Nope. No good. Then I tried the new sticker book about cars that we had just purchased 10 minutes earlier at Books a Million. Nope. So I dug out a trusty old pappy and plugged it in his wailing mouth. This combined with Charley calmed him down, so she cut and snipped away with out too many problems. I thought, okay, rocky start but this is turning out okay. Then came the bangs. The hair began falling. He got it in his mouth, which caused him to take his paci out to wipe his tongue. With his hair covered arm. Commence SCREAMING. People in the mall walking past kept looking in to see what the problem was. He screamed no less than 10 minutes straight. I had to take him in the bathroom and wipe his mouth out with a wet paper towel. Then came the itchies from all the hair, which just caused more problems. This all might have been tolerable if it wasn’t so damn hot outside. I don’t do heat. I don’t like hot weather. It makes me unhappy. Some days you’re the pigeon, some days you’re the statue. Anyway, enough of my whinish.

On a different note, I’m watching TLC’s Bringing Home Baby. The woman is a total nutcase! I thought I was uptight, jeez. I would love to see a peek into her life after their baby is about two. She is driving me nuts, I wonder why her husband married her!! She is a total control freak. They got home from the hospital and an hour later the family began pouring in. The grandmother and great grandmother came through the door. The hugged and kissed and her great grandmother said “Well you still have a little pooch there huh?!” Ugh, now that made me feel sorry for the poor girl, but by the end of the show, I was back to thinking she was a beyotch. Of course grandma and great grandma wanted to see the baby. Now we all know newborns could sleep through a Nascar race. Well the new mom is like “I guess you can see him, even though he isn’t supposed to wake up for another hour.” Hello! He’s sleeping 22 hours a day!!!!!! She won’t let the poor dad do anything. In the followup when the baby was 8 weeks old, the dad actually said, “My job has become somewhat removed, she does everything until she can’t handle anymore, then tells me to take him, that’s when I step in.” How sad. She got mad because he fed the baby before changing his diaper, and she wanted it done the other way around. Oh and THEN, the next episode comes on. Guess what this couple says?? We purposely didn’t buy a carseat because we thought the one the hospital would give us would be good enough!!! Why? Why is there not an IQ test before people are allowed to conceive? The carseat had no base, it was a 3 point harness, and looked to be around 4-5 years old, in other words, almost expired. Who knows whether it was used or not. I just wanted to slap them. It was really lose when after they installed it. And their car was loaded, TV screens in the headrests and everything. They weren’t poor. They had just bought a new house, a new car…yada yada. Okay I can’t talk about this anymore!

PS The second couple did redeem themselves by going and buying a Graco travel system, which of course had a Snugride with it.

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a piece of my heart

Jul 26

Posted by: Rachel in: blog, caleb isaiah, memories, parenting

I wrote this poem in my head while rocking Caleb to sleep. Every time I read it, it brings me back to that time. When the bond between you feels so strong that it brings tears to your eyes, and you never want it to end. I can feel the warmth, and see just how his mouth looks hanging open just enough for his paci to halfway fall out, holding onto Charley’s tail. I included this poem in a photobook that I made of Caleb’s first year. I associate this photo with the poem because they are both on the last page. If I had to pick my three all time favorite pictures of Caleb, this would be one of them. If you know how many pictures I take, you know just how significant this statement is. The lighting and shadows are just breathtaking to me.

Quiet and still, another day gone,
Another day older, another day grown.
You are warmly tucked as close as my arms will hold.
The creak of the rocker the only sound.
Ever so gently I kiss your face,
Rest my cheek softly on your forehead
No other feeling can compare,
A fleeting moment I wish could last a lifetime.

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I need your help…

Jul 25

Posted by: Rachel in: blog, parenting

I’m trying to decide which one of these I should use on my custom t-shirt that says “Livin’ the Dream.” Okay, not really, but the thought did cross my mind! It would be pretty funny! These would have been great for Funny Friday, but I seriously couldn’t wait that long to share them. Or I could have waited two weeks and they would be uploaded on their respective websites, but…nah. These just need to be shared with mothers everywhere. Right now. My dear friend Amber was kind enough to cut these out and send them to me, seeing as how I don’t have time to do adult things like read the paper.







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I’ve been sitting here almost an hour trying to write this and I keep getting sidetracked, or thinking it sounds stupid, so I keep starting over. I think I’ll just write a paragraph of the cute things you’ve done today, and call it a night.

This morning I was in the bathroom doing my hair, and the safety gate was closed (nope I sure haven’t even attempted potty training yet). You came to the gate with this concerned look and said “Baby sad.” I opened the gate up and scooped you up. You kind of whimpered a little and buried your face in my neck. I hugged you tight and asked why you were sad, but didn’t get any response. A few seconds later, you poked your bottom lip out as far as possible, and wrinkled your eye brows down and said “Mad.” I just burst out laughing. And so did you. “Funny baby, Mommy laughing,” you replied. So I think you are experimenting with vocalizing your emotions…praise the dear Lord, a step in the right direction…which is away from the tantrums.

You are a Diego fan, as some may know, we went to see the live shown last month. Each show has the same basic set up, an Diego hears an animal calling out for help, he gets his camera, finds where the animal is, then goes to help it. When the animal calls out for help, it does so in english and spanish. This morning you were playing with some toys and I heard you talking to them saying “Help me, Ayúdeme, help me, ayúdeme.” Spanish for help me. How cute is that?! Okay I found it amusing. Anyway, that’s all. :)

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And last but not least…

…yes that is what you think it is, and he put it there, not me.

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…before I became a parent

  1. Are you painting on the TV with spit?
  2. Please don’t lick the TV.
  3. Let my child scream in a store.
  4. Cosleep
  5. And love it
  6. Talk about poop. I’ve probably said the word poop enough in the last two years to last most people a lifetime.
  7. Tie a huge blue pool to the top of our car
  8. Purchase something made by Speedo
  9. Think about how many germs were on shopping carts and all things McDonalds (tables, chairs, highchairs, play areas, trays, everything)
  10. Own seven strollers for one child
  11. Did I mention poop?
  12. Believe in love at first sight, and see that love grow more intense with every little step or new discovery, every day.

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short supply

Jul 22

Posted by: Rachel in: blog, rants

My rope that is. I’m at the end of it. Nothing left. I need a break. I have been in a ridiculously horrible mood for two weeks now. I don’t know what to do, I’m pulling my hair out. Staying at home isn’t getting any better, but taking Caleb out in public is a HUGE challenge. It is not supposed to be as hot this week. Highs in the mid 80s Maybe we’ll try going to a few different parks this week. Where I can turn him loose and not worry about the pond and the road and what he’s breaking or not breaking or falling down on the pavement or down the steps. I’m totally losing my mind. *runs away screaming, waving arms in the air* I may call and cancel his speech therapy for tomorrow. The house is dirty and frankly I don’t feel like cleaning it. I don’t want her to sit in cracker crumbs all over the floor. Piles of stuff everywhere. I just can’t keep all my balls in the air. I always wonder what I’m doing wrong. I only have one kid. I don’t see how people with stair steps manage! I guess you do your best at managing what you have. But right now I couldn’t imagine having another child. That makes me sad. I know I’ll feel more ready down the road, but not today. Today I just prefer to sulk.

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Who wouldn’t want to cosleep? Solely for the pillow space and breathing room if nothing else.

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