Yes I am still around and I will pick back up blogging.  I have a lot going on right now that has really zapped my inspiration.  I have found that I totally get writer’s block any time I am going through something even remotely difficult.  Anyway, since every post is better with a picture…

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Crazy good things that happened:

  1. I got 2% milk for $2.09 a gallon.  I did a double take at the tag (because it was an unadvertised sale), then read it carefully to make sure it wasn’t the half gallon.
  2. I had a $1 off coupon for Country Time lemonade.  There were two containers, a 8oz container for $2.28, and a 29oz container.  For $2.28.  Guess which one I got?
  3. Toilet paper: BOGO.  Need I say more?
  4. I attended an awesome online photography trade show.  I didn’t get to see all of it, so I’m waiting for them to get the programs I missed on demand.
  5. Last but not least: We found crazy straws.

You know it has been a good day when you drink out of crazy straws.  Especially 3 or 4 at the same time.

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Last night we went over to Scott’s nephew and his wife’s house to help them put together a beautiful baby crib.  In just forty-five days, we’ll have a new family member.  They are on the brink of parenthood.  I stood there in the kitchen watching my four year old on the floor drinking milk proudly from a cup with no lid, a feat we are currently practicing.  Wasn’t that cup a bottle just a few shorts weeks ago?  Wasn’t I naively standing on the brink of parenthood just a few months before?

There was so much I wanted to tell them.

I wanted to say, you will have to relearn how to do everything. From one handed laundry to eating cold dinner because you had to change a diaper or feed a little one, not to mention trying to squeeze in a shower every few days.  You’ll forget to eat in those first days and weeks because you are in such awe that you made this little being and gave him life.  Watching him sleep is more peaceful than a massage.  Hearing him coo is more entertaining than the TV.   You’ll cry when he gets shots.  You’ll hold your breath when he takes his first steps.  You’ll get mad at him. You’ll get mad at each other.  You’ll make mistakes.  Everyone does.  But you’ll love him more completely than anyone else on this Earth has ever loved any one person.   And you will look at your parents in a different way, because you know now, they love you that much.

But I just smiled as I watched Caleb drinking his milk and listened to the last few notes of the crib mobile  drifting down the hall, barely audible in the kitchen. I simply said, “Don’t blink.  Because it goes by really fast.”

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“All my babies are gone now. I say this not in sorrow but in disbelief. I take great satisfaction in what I have today: three almost-adults, two taller than I am, one closing in fast. Three people who read the same books I do and have learned not to be afraid of disagreeing with me in their opinion of them, who sometimes tell vulgar jokes that make me laugh until I choke and cry, who need razor blades and shower gel and privacy, who want to keep their doors closed more than I like. Who, miraculously, go to the bathroom, zip up their jackets and move food from plate to mouth all by themselves. Like the trick soap I bought for the bathroom with a rubber ducky at its center, the baby is buried deep within each, barely discernible except through the unreliable haze of the past.

“Everything in all the books I once poured over is finished for me now. Penelope Leach., T. Berry Brazelton, Dr. Spock. The ones on sibling rivalry and sleeping through the night and early-childhood education, have all grown obsolete. Along with Goodnight Moon and Where the Wild Things Are, they are battered, spotted, well used. But I suspect that if you flipped the pages dust would rise like memories.

“What those books taught me, finally, and what the women on the playground taught me, and the well-meaning relations –what they taught me, was that they couldn’t really teach me very much at all. Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that it is an endless essay. No one knows anything. One child responds well to positive reinforcement, another can be managed only with a stern voice and a timeout. One child is toilet trained at 3, his sibling at 2.

“When my first child was born, parents were told to put baby to bed on his belly so that he would not choke on his own spit-up. By the time my last arrived, babies were put down on their backs because of research on sudden infant death syndrome. To a new parent this ever-shifting certainty is terrifying, and then soothing. Eventually you must learn to trust yourself.

“Eventually the research will follow. I remember 15 years ago poring over one of Dr. Brazelton’s wonderful books on child development, in which he describes three different sorts of infants: average, quiet, and active. I was looking for a sub-quiet codicil for an 18-month old who did not walk. Was there something wrong with his fat little legs? Was there something wrong with his tiny little mind? Was he developmentally delayed, physically challenged? Was I insane?

“Last year he went to China. Next year he goes to college. He can talk just fine. He can walk, too.

“Every part of raising children is humbling, too. Believe me, mistakes were made. They have all been enshrined in the, ‘Remember-When-Mom-Did Hall of Fame.’ The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad language, mine, not theirs. The times the baby fell off the bed. The times I arrived late for preschool pickup. The nightmare sleepover. The horrible summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling out of the classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I responded, “What did you get wrong?”. (She insisted I include that.) The time I ordered food at the McDonald’s drive-through speaker and then drove away without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted I include that.) I did not allow them to watch the Simpsons for the first two seasons. What was I thinking?

“But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three of them, sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night.

“I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.

“Even today I’m not sure what worked and what didn’t, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because of what I’d done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be.

“The books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was sometimes over the top. And look how it all turned out. I wound up with the three people I like best in the world, who have done more than anyone to excavate my essential humanity. That’s what the books never told me. I was bound and determined to learn from the experts. It just took me a while to figure out who the experts were.”

~ Anna Quindlen, Newsweek Columnist

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I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Obviously I’ve been thinking about posting a lot more than I have actually posted these last two weeks. So I owe a thank you for your patience.

In my ponderings, I’ve come to the conclusion that I become more of a control freak every day. I hate that. I want to work on it. But if things side step, I don’t seem to be able to handle it like I used to. My life before Caleb was a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants life. My plans were to make no plans. To go with the flow. But then this tiny person entered my life, and I honeymooned for several months, sleepily gazing at my blue eyed boy, absolutely in awe that I baked that up in my belly, and that he was even mine. It was all so surreal. But becoming a parent carries with it a weight like no other. I suddenly realized, if I don’t look at the bigger picture, if I don’t start making plans, it’s not just me that I could screw up. There’s a child now relying on me to make the right decisions, and plan past that day’s lunch. That’s when it all started. At least I think so.

Want to know one of my most embarrassing secrets? Well I don’t think embarrassing is the right word. Perhaps sad? Other than a solo trip to the grocery store on average less than once a month, I’ve only left Caleb all day one time. That day, I drove 11 hours to a wedding and back home so I wouldn’t have to leave him overnight. He was 13 months old then.  He’s four now.  I’ve never had a babysitter.

Tomorrow, I’ll be gone most of the day for another wedding (more on that next paragraph). It may very well be the second time in his life that I won’t put him to bed. I find myself very surprised at how hard it is for me to relinquish that control. To tell myself that he will be perfectly fine. Even is someone doesn’t do things my way, that doesn’t mean they won’t work a different way. Our routine doesn’t have to be followed to a tee.

I know I’ve been burnt out lately and I could use a brief break and a chance to work on and expand my other passion, my photography. This Saturday affords me both of those things. My sister is getting married. I am more or less the second shooter. Although, when I talked to her yesterday, she said “I trust your judgment.” To be perfectly honest, I’m terrified. I’ve never even done a formal photo shoot, much less a wedding. Luckily, I do not have to do any formal posed shots. I am thankful for that. It is an outdoor wedding, so I don’t have to worry about a lack of lighting. I am thankful for that. The bride to be favors the journalistic approach to capturing the day. I am thankful for that.  I’ve  spent hours every week trying to soak up knowledge from blogs like Jasmine Star’s and Jessica Claire’s.  I am thankful for that.

So I have exactly 30 hours to make a cheat sheet before this wedding! I saved several shots from my favorite photographers and I’m going to print out small copies of them and paste them in a little book under categories for inspiration tomorrow, along with a list of all the shots I feel are must haves, and tips jotted down.

So if you’ve read all this and you’re not convinced I’m a control freak, I leave you with this. I vacuum every day. Yes. I really do. In my defense, 6 days out of 7, I use a cordless stick vacuum.

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I don’t know which part is more embarrassing funnier… The fact that I bought these period.  The fact that these slippers were $3.24.  Or the fact that I bought the XL because they were $3.24 while the medium and large (more common sizes) were still $6.48.

Whatever the case, they make my feet smile.

Somehow they don’t look like boats from this angle on little feet.

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The Hunt is on! You can begin hunting around the blog for Easter eggs any time between now and Sunday evening at 6pm EST.  For more details, see this post.

Click here to pull up your entry form in a new tab or window, then use the search feature in the sidebar to look for eggs.  Have fun!

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As promised, a game is on the horizon. Here’s the details.

I’m hosting an Easter Egg Hunt. I’ll be stashing a dozen eggs around my blog.

Who: Crumbs In My Couch

What: A Blog Easter Egg Hunt for Stellan

When: You are free to begin hunting at 6pm EST Thursday, April 9, 2009. Your deadline is 6pm EST Sunday, April 12, 2009.

Where: You’re reading the details right here.

Why: If you aren’t familiar with the Stellan’s story, head over to My Charming Kids and start reading on the right sidebar. Stellan’s SVT that he was first diagnosed with before birth recently relapsed and he has been in the PICU fighting a rapid heart rhythm. I find myself very thankful and blessed to have a healthy family. I wish to donate $10 to the MckFamily fund in honor of the egg hunt winner. I know that’s not much, but every little bit helps. A bag of jellybeans and a winner’s button (for your blog or website) are optional add-on accessories ;)

When the egg hunt officially starts, use the entry form found here.

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You are more than welcome to snag either button here by copying the code and placing it on your blog. And if you’d like to write a short post to draw in fellow hunters, all the better! I can make that extra easy for you… Grab the code for a button below and paste it in the html section of your new post. Then grab the code from the larger box at the bottom of this post, and paste it in the html section as well. Click Post/Publish. That’s all you have to do!

Large Button:

Small Button:

Please copy this entire code to post the details on your blog:

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We were sitting here tonight watch 101 Dalmatians and suddenly the room lit up, despite the blinds being closed.  Scott and I looked at each other and I said “Who turned on the lights?”  I started toward the kitchen with a plate and glanced out the nearby window.  I plopped my plate down and rand back to get my camera so I could go outside.  The light was amazing.  I felt like it honestly knocked on the window.  These pictures are straight out of the camera.

And within four minutes (seriously), it was gone.  The sun dropped down and the blackness faded.

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I went to the mall to try to induce labor walk.  Nearly every person who came close enough to speak said, “Aww, when are you due?”  “Today!” I answered longingly.

I’m one of those people who enjoyed being pregnant.  Once I got past the morning sickness and started showing, I loved feeling him kicking and moving around inside.  I never once worried about how to take care of a baby.  Somehow, my mind was completely at ease.  I worried more about the delivery than anything.  I look back now, I seemed so young and naive.  Like that was a different person.  And I was really.  Parenthood only leaves a glimpse of your former self.  Sleeping soundly is a thing of the past.  You worry about vaccines and violence in schools instead of clothing and Friday night plans.  You wear a shirt covered in spit up just for the sake of your laundry pile.  You handled tasks you previously thought best left to the Hazmat trained professionals.  But with all these changes in yourself and your life, you find the biggest change of all is the size of your heart.  I never knew how much love a heart could hold until I was a mother.

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