10 months

My heart in a laundry basket.

He scoots!

R installed a new cork floor for us. It’s beautiful.

But it’s even more beautiful because our son took his first “scoot” on it. His first real independent, sitting-up movement.

Our little 10-month-old in monkey pajamas stuck out his tongue, focused hard as I called him to me, and then proudly scooted his little chubby self across the floor to mama.

Oh my heart. How do parents handle all the love?

He breaks my heart

I spent a good many dating years trying to refine the skill of “guarding my heart.”

I learned somewhere in junior high that relationships were tricky, and the more I exposed my feelings, the more I couldn’t control them. And guys just don’t like those “emotional” types.

That means I tried not to show emotion at the wrong times, lest the object of my affection think I was one of “those” girls.

It means I sort of made my feelings inhabit boxes until the appropriate times for them to come out.

I wasn’t always successful — it was a lot of work to make sure that a man didn’t break my heart. But I got better at it as time rolled on.

And then I had a son.

And all my years of work unraveled.

My chubby, wild-haired, 9-month-old is the form of my whole heart walking around outside my body, exposed for all to see.

He can break my heart in an instant.

Like when he reaches for someone else. Or when he doesn’t need me to rock him to fall asleep. Or, like tonight, when I walked in to roll him on his tummy to sleep–and he had turned over himself. A milestone.

He can make me cry–fast. The things I used to do to keep my tears and my heart “in check” don’t work anymore.

Instead, my son holds all of my heart in his sticky little drool-soaked hands. And messes with it sometimes.

When he hurts, I feel it. If he’s mad, I want to fix it. If he rejects my snuggles, I’ll come back for more.

I’m sort of a mess of a mama.

Pure Joy

There is so much I want to write. I have so much to say. But it’s all tucked away in my head. Waiting. Like me. Waiting for the perfect way to tell you how I almost died 2 summers ago. And how God healed me. And then gave us a baby. And how I love that baby so fiercely, that sometimes I can’t breathe.

How am I supposed to just start writing a blog again when so much has changed? Where do I begin?

How am I supposed to tell you, in human words, how much my heart feels for this boy? I really can’t explain it. It’s just GOD. He did all of this. He gave me this son. And I’m so inadequate. But so, so thankful.

 

June 23, 2011

This one moment changed me forever.

39 Weeks, 1 Day

Today I went to work late.  And went home early.  Why?

Because my body is like, I’M CARRYING A HUMAN BEING, SO SLOWDOWNALREADY.

So I came home and put my feet up on the bed.

And Milner did this.
And this.

What you can’t see is that there’s a baseball game going on outside the window at the local high school.

He likes him some baseball.

Unless something on the floor is better.

And in case you’re wondering, I generally lock him in the bedroom with me.

Why must I be so cruel, you ask?

Um.  Yeah.

Goodbye, only-pair-of-cute-yet-comfy-black-flats-I-owned.

At 39 weeks, 1 day pregnant, I cannot handle another comfy-shoe-loss like this.

Don’t judge.

Happy Easter

Happy Easter!

Yes, I’m well aware that Easter has come and gone. But I’m only now able to celebrate because of the trauma that overtook my house on that blessed day.

Starting with this little burn stain:

And ending with this bleeding scratch on my cheek (the picture does not do my pain justice, I tell you):

It all started when my mother-in-law decorated the Easter table down the center with fake grass, and then lit tea lights and nestled them down INTO said fake grass. (She likes her some decoration).

And maybe while I unwrapped an Easter present from her, I might have gently set some of the tissue paper onto the table whereby the hidden tea light suddenly grabbed ahold and the next second my table was on fire.

Anyway. In chronological order, the following then occurred:

I screamed.

I blew on the burning tissue paper.

It flamed ever higher.

My 6 yr. old niece (with very thick, flammable hair) sitting next to me, playing with her new strawberry shortcake doll, copped a terrified look.

I picked up the burning paper and ran to the door.

Thereby creating more oxygen for the flames.

The paper burned my hand.

I dropped it on the carpet near the door, screamed R’s name, and ran to the kitchen for water.

Whereby he came sprinting over and stamped out the flaming paper.

The end. (And yes, I violated every fire safety rule ever written in one 5 second mishap).

The stain of burn is not easily removed, FYI.

And what of my bleeding cheek, I am sure you’re wondering? Let’s just say that when your husband finds a dog bone upstairs and decides to throw it over the staircase, it behooves you not to simultaneously be walking up the stairs.

Happy Easter.

What baby?

It sort of cracks me up to see the last post I wrote, complaining about the 15 pounds I gained back after being so sick.

Because now, 5 months later, let’s just say I’m an ADDITIONAL 15 pounds heavier. Easy on the McDonald’s, I know.

Actually, the reason is this human being that GOD decided to grow inside me.

Yes, R and I are pregnant, and due in about 2 months. It’s a boy. Holdontoyourhats.

I predict this blog will now be about keeping myself sane through sleepless nights and diaper changes. Did I mention that I grew up as an only child? Yeah, that means I need a class on diaper changes, washing a baby, cleaning out baby’s ears, cleaning his nose with a bulb-sucker thingy, and what-not. Blessedly, our hospital offers “parenting for dummies,” and it doesn’t even require a graduation certificate.

Which makes me wonder, why is it that you need a license to operate a vehicle but not a license to operate a SMALL, FRAGILE, HUMAN BEING WHO AT ANY MOMENT YOU COULD RUIN FOR LIFE WITH YOUR STUPIDITY?

Just curious.

So anyway, just so we all get what’s happened, here:

This girl

Plus this guy

(Just kidding, he will kill me when he sees this)

(This one is much better)

EQUALS

I kid. We have no clue what our son will look like. But isn’t this a cute picture of a little man that R took on one of this travels to India? Oh yes, indeed.

Clever title here

It has come to my attention that I have, allegedly, not blogged consistently in ages. I have about 37 excuses ready for you. Not the least of which includes a battle for my life this summer for 2 months with some undiagnosed illness.  I mean, not even 3 ER visits, a 4-day hospital stay, and 2 weeks at the MAYO CLINIC could diagnose me. “All of our testing shows your body to be perfectly normal and healthy.” Ah yes, a 24/7 freight train in my head that keeps me from working, lying down, sleeping or eating is the behavior of a body that is PERFECTLY NORMAL). This is when you know it’s time to pick a funeral outfit.

I kid. I never picked an outfit like that–completely. But I did ponder buying new clothes after I started feeling better because voilà! I’d lost 15 pounds. Now, I lose stuff *all* the time. Ask R. I mean, when I lose something, it’s history. But OHHHHHH NO, those 15 pounds just popped back up outta nowhere like a scary guy that keeps scaring people in a scary movie (I don’t watch scary movies, thus the generic example).  And so, reunited with those 15 pounds, I have been. And I’d go ponder how angry that makes me but eating is what I do to drown my emotions.

100 Reasons Why I Love You

Happy 1st anniversary, babe.

1. You are Indian.
2. You are smarter than me.
3. You are organized.
4. You love your parents.
5. You aren’t afraid to say hard things.
6. You aren’t afraid to do hard things.
7. You have the strongest work ethic of any man I’ve known.
8. You are a great cook.
9. You patiently teach me how to cook.
10. You always remember to plug my phone into the charger each night, sometimes long after I’ve gone to bed.
11. Your faith in GOD.
12. Your knowledge of scripture.
13. You take spiritual warfare seriously.
14. You held me and rocked me while you cried out to GOD each night before bed — I was so sick I thought I would die.
15. You make me laugh.
16. You laugh at my jokes.
17. You are always willing to try new things.
18. You like to fish.
19. You have traveled to more countries than I will ever see in my lifetime.
19. You faithfully keep tabs on our budget.
20. Your friends respect you.
21. You are loyal.
22. You are honest — I can always trust your word.
23. You don’t run from conflict.
24. You help me not run from conflict.
25. You love my parents.
26. You have gorgeous teeth.
26. You are a good driver.
27. When I haven’t done the laundry, you don’t get mad. You just put a load in yourself.
28. You love to learn new things.
29. You respect those whom God has put in authority over you.
30. You love our nephews and nieces.
31. You want to be a dad.
32. You are ready to be a dad.
33. You always remember important facts.
34. You love to read the Old Testament.
35. You love your grandparents.
36. You know how to build things.
37. You know stuff about cars.
38. You always remember trash day.
39. You like to micromanage me and I let you because most of the time, your ideas are better.
40. You have a big, BIG, family.
41. You love our church.
42. You help me use our house to be hospitable towards others.
43. You never complain if dinner doesn’t have enough flavor. You just politely go get the ketchup.
44. You are not easily offended.
45. You are quick to listen.
46. You are slow to become angry.
47. I can’t even remember the last time you got angry.
48. If you’re mad, 99.9% of the time, you have a good reason.
49. You value justice.
50. You make friends easily.
51. You didn’t marry your college girlfriend.
52. You took me to the zoo on my 29th birthday and shelled out tons of cash so I could keep feeding the giraffes crackers.
53. You like to eat at the dinner table and not in front of the tv.
54. You aren’t obsessed with video games.
55. You aren’t obsessed with sports.
56. You think tv is a time waster for the most part. I agree.
57. You turn your eyes if a tv show has an inappropriate scene. Or turn the channel.
58. You speak well of your family and friends.
59. You rarely complain.
60. You often use discretion.
61. You will offer to help anyone.
62. You speak Spanish.
63. You mix well with my girlfriends.
64. You don’t keep bad company.
65. You sleep next to the bedroom door.
66. You like guns.
67. You know how to use a gun.
68. You don’t think it’s weird that I carry one.
69. You often tell me you love me.
70. You let me re-tell stories.
71. You do dishes.
72. You are excellent at using our grill. I can’t even start it.
73. You love Emma.
74. You take Emma out in the dark.
75. When I got sick this whole summer and no doctor could diagnose me, you always believed GOD would heal me.
76. You were the first guy I ever dated who caused zero drama in my life.
77. You hate drama.
78. You let me be dramatic just for fun.
79. You are confident.
80. You always come home when you say you will.
81. When I was sick, you said it was a privilege to suffer alongside me.
82. You love good preaching.
83. You can sing–really well.
84. You like good music.
85. You sang to me at night when I was sick.
86. You let my parents help you take care of me when I was sick.
87. You read and study your Bible.
88. You speak in tongues.
89. You are forever organizing our garage.
90. You have great taste in clothes and furniture.
91. You have exciting goals and dreams for our life.
92. You think I’m smart.
93. You worked full time while getting your MBA.
94. You have made it a point to have older mentors in your life.
95. Your brown eyes.
96. You are not pretentious or materialistic.
97. You like bold colors, like I do.
98. Your impersonation of an Indian accent is priceless.
99. You respect your father.
100. You took me horseback riding the day we got engaged, even though riding isn’t your thing.