Christmas traditions...

Christmas has always been my favorite holiday, Christmas Eve in particular. For as long as I can reach back into my memory, I always loved sitting in the dark on Xmas Eve, watching the tree twinkle with its lights and sparkle with its ornaments, absorbing the peace and calm before the spirited festivities began.

I have a multitude of notable Christmas memories, here are some to share:

I remember Dad stringing the lights on our trees, I remember Abby our cat mingling around and spending most of the month of December underneath it, I remember visits to Santa at LuLu Country Club, I remember Mom baking dozens of butter cookies using the pastry bag and creating gingerbread houses, I remember getting dressed up and going to NYC on the train for the day when Dad worked there for his company's family holiday party, I remember lighting candles ever so carefully during Xmas Eve church service, I remember goodies placed on the hearth and notes written to Santa (and the crumbs and soot left behind by him the next morning), I remember the feeling of anticipation that my sister and I had as we scurried to bed so excited about Santa coming while we slept, I remember squinting at the bright lights of the video camera as Dad captured us running down the stairs at some ungodly early hour on Christmas Mornings, I remember kitchen sets and doll houses and bikes, I remember stockings brimming over with surprises, I remember so very much and cherish that I have those memories.

Now that I find myself a parent, I want to create traditions and holiday moments for Cole, so he too will be able to "remember" some day as I do about my childhood Christmas' holidays. I look forward to the years ahead when Cole becomes caught up in the magic and the wonder of Christmas and creates recollections of his very own.

My patience pass must have expired...

I do not want anyone who checks in on my blog to think I only write about the positive, uplifting and cheery aspects of being a mommy. Tonight, I sit down to craft a post after almost two weeks of not having a spare ounce of energy left at the end of my days.

Cole has decided that he loves me soooooooo much that he cannot be out of my line of sight. This means that he has become a newly attached appendage to my already weary frame. We are experiencing separation anxiety at its finest (which is an oxymoron of grand proportions). I have read and researched all about this phase and now bear the knowledge that the more secure an emotional bond he has to me the worse this anxiety can become. It is not because he is not exposed to others as I have made it an almost daily ritual to be around other babies, moms, his swim instructor, our mommy and me class moderator, all of whom he sees and is held by every week and I have our babysitter Brodie every Monday afternoon so I can disappear for a few hours. No, it is because my little guy is very smart and is learning object permanence which is that when I am out of sight, I still exist. However, he has yet to grasp the concept of time, thus if I leave his field of vision to grab something out of the refrigerator, he does not know that I will be right back.

All the experts say it shows that a healthy bond has developed and that in time, most babies who have separation anxiety actually become more independent than those who do not. To me though, it is like reliving his colic stage all over again. I say that because his behavior is inconsistent and unpredictable which makes planning a day very difficult. We can have a totally great day with no episodes OR a day where I literally carry him around for hours on end or listen to him scream when I put him down. It is taxing and on those days, I am running on adrenaline. When Cole had colic his first four months of life, I was given some miraculous dose of patience as I typically am not a very patient individual. It was a surprise to me but a very thankful one to get me through those 16 weeks. Now I feel the situation is similar but my patience reserves no longer exist. I am finding myself agitated and frustrated beyond belief. When he was an infant, I could put him down and he was not able to crawl or walk as he does now.

The sheer panic in his eyes is enough to melt my heart every time but the sheer amount of energy it takes to quiet that panic on a bad day is overwhelming. I know this will pass and I take solace in the fact that he has become very much the snuggle buddy but sometimes I just need a bit of personal space which is something you cannot explain to a one year old. Becoming a mom means making sacrifices so I grit my teeth and shed a few tears and just remember to be thankful that my little boy loves me so much!

Where do I begin?

Here I am on the eve of Cole's first birthday. This past week leading up to tomorrow has be an emotional one for me which I had not anticipated. I knew that this milestone would be an important event, thus so for so many reasons but the feelings that have welled up inside me have surprised me nonetheless.

I have been reading entries from the journal I have kept this year documenting the journey of becoming a parent and mom. I am so thankful that I have been dedicated to keeping my thoughts and memories as they occurred because my mind has somehow already diluted them. I assume the past fades to allow room for the future. Regardless, to read how I felt at various points throughout Cole's first year brought a rush of nostalgia. How is it possible that twelve months have passed since I labored and delivered our son? I do remember so keenly on this exact evening last December as the excitement grew (despite the pain and the unexpectedness of my emergency C-section) as Dave and I anxiously waited to find out what the gender would be of our baby. I had felt from the very day I found out we were pregnant that a little fellow was our destiny but until I heard the words "it's a boy", I could not 100% trust my intuition.

To define the past twelve months would be impossible. There truly are no words or sentiments to sum up what it feels like to welcome a baby into the world and watch it grow and change before your eyes. I have never experienced so many challenges, joys, frustrations or awe inducing moments as I have this past year. Cole has brought to my life a depth and dimension that only can be described as inspiring.

Despite fumbling at times as I navigate motherhood, I am proud, so proud of how I have managed the twists and turns, the curves and jumps, and the peaks and the valleys of Cole's first year. The myriad and dynamic changes to my life has brought me to a new high. The realization that everyday is a new day has taken on greater meaning for me as Cole shares his perspective on the world. It is so easy to take for granted minutes and hours as we as adults become numb and jaded over time. The sheer innocence of an infant came wipe that slate clean and bring a renewed sense of priorities and vision. I am so grateful for the lessons he continues to teach me.

I know he will not have a recollection of his first year but I will never forget it. Happy First Birthday Cole Roger Denham. I love you with all that I am. Thank you for making me a mom.

The ONE and ONLY Cole...

There are so many things that make Cole Roger Denham the ONE and ONLY Cole Roger Denham. As we approach his first birthday which is next week (HOLY COW!!), here are just a few of my favorite traits about him.

#1 His toothy million dollar smile

#2 The way he looks over his shoulder as he scurries towards danger with the "catch me if you can" twinkle in his eye.

#3 His utter glee at watching Tucker do anything

#4 His love of looking out the front and back door with both hands pressed up against the glass

#5 The fact that he knows when I lower him from his highchair after dinner that it is bath time. He hears the running water and heads towards the bathroom as I attempt to get his messy clothes off.

#6 That very much like his mom, he is way cranky after a nap until fully awake.

#7 The manner in which he explores and plays independently all the while very aware of when I enter or leave the room.

#8 When the tension in his little body eases, his breathing deepens and serenity takes over his face as I hold and rock him in the quiet of his nursery

#9 The determination and intensity in his expressions as he perfects any new skill

#10 The infectious giggle he has when he finds something unexpectedly funny

#11 His ability to beam at me with his contagious smile as I attempt to dissuade him from any number of dangerous situations with a stern "NO"

#12 The fact that his tone and inflection as he babbles is so appropriate in context that I am just waiting for a full sentence to come tumbling out!

#13 The fearless wonder he exudes as he views life from his unfiltered vantage point.

So much to be thankful for...

It would be obvious to say that I have lots to be thankful for this Thanksgiving 2007. This evening I found myself giving thanks surrounded by my loving husband, my fabulous friends and my son. It certainly should not take a holiday for one to take pause and reflect on all that is good in one's life but it was a reminder nonetheless to do exactly that.

I truly appreciate my wonderful reality, becoming a parent this past year brings into perspective what I am grateful for in a more authentic way than I have ever previously determined.

I acknowledge how lucky I am to walk this maze of motherhood and I cannot express my gratitude enough that I have been given this path to travel. It is my hope to not let another year go by without respecting more often all that I have been blessed with.

The Cost of Raising a Child...

It has been a rough past week so I have not had any time to write but wanted to put this poem/saying up as it is very true and especially a great reminder to oneself when your having a difficult time of it with your wee one! All the crazy days are definitely worth it!


The Cost of Raising a Child

Giggles under the covers every night.

More love than your heart can hold.

Butterfly kisses and Velcro hugs.

Endless wonder over rocks, ants, clouds, and warm cookies.

A hand to hold, usually covered with jam.

A partner for blowing bubbles, flying kites, building sand castles, and skipping down the sidewalk in the pouring rain.

Someone to laugh yourself silly with no matter what the boss said or how your stocks performed that day.

You get to finger-paint, carve pumpkins, bob for apples, play hide-and-seek, catch lightning bugs, and never stop believing in Santa Claus.

You have an excuse to keep reading the Adventures of Piglet and Pooh, watching Saturday morning cartoons, going to DisneyLand, and wishing on stars.

You get to frame rainbows, hearts, and flowers under refrigerator magnets and collect spray painted noodle wreaths for Christmas, hand prints set in clay for Mother's Day, and cards with backward letters for Father's Day.

You get to be a hero just for retrieving a frisbee off the garage roof, taking the training wheels off the bike, removing a splinter, filling a wading pool, coaxing a wad of gum out of bangs, and coaching a baseball team that never wins but always gets treated to ice cream regardless.

You get a front row seat to history to witness the first step, first word, first bra, first date, and first time behind the wheel. You get to be immortal.

You get another branch added to your family tree, and if you're lucky, a long list of limbs in your obituary called grandchildren.

You get an education in psychology, nursing, criminal justice, communications, and human sexuality that no college can match.

In the eyes of a child, you rank right up there with God.
You have all the power to heal a booboo, scare away the monsters under the bed, patch a broken heart, police a slumber party, ground them forever, and love them without limits, so one day they will, like you, love without counting the cost.

High in the sky...

Many of you have thought that our recent road trips to and from faraway locales was quite bold with a wee one in our midst. As I have blogged previously, we have enjoyed those sojourns, they have just required a bit of a different approach in their execution. A change in routine is good for all involved.

However, we just returned from flying the friendly skies for a wedding in Phoenix and a visit with Dave's family and it would be an understatement in saying that a plane trip with our lil guy was an exercise in patience (and deep cleansing breathes). Cole strapped in his car seat in the Volvo has no real option as to where to unleash his monkey like abilities. In a plane despite the most limited of space and oblivious to the darting glances of his fellow passengers (who were undoubtedly praying that he was a well behaved baby), Cole wanted to be on the move, standing, laying sideways, in the aisle, on the floor and come hell or high water, he was not going to be kept in one place. I had my distraction bag of goodies which I had packed with military like precision. I had memorized by feel so that I could reach any object in a split second to avoid the potential for vocalization as the building tension in his body grew and he arched his back in frustration at being kept on our laps.

We managed with the help of some angel above to secure the entire row going both ways. I cannot state more strongly how vital that was to keeping our sanity level below the boiling point. For the better part of three hours, Dave and I took turns attempting to engage, occupy, and entertain Cole to keep him from causing a melee. We were successful but it sapped every ounce of energy from us both. Each time we touched down on the runway, we were overcome with such a sense of relief.

Cole had his share of "cute as the dickens" moments as he waved to EVERY person who stood outside the lavatory (we were in the back row both times). He would get wide-eyed when the captain would come on and in his deep voice give us an update on our arrival status. He loved the blowing air vent above our seats and he enjoyed looking out the window. He would go back and forth from the two in our row like a spectator at a tennis match. I hung on to him as he darted between them and I hoped that this would last a WHOLE 5 minutes cutting into what time was left of our journey in the clouds.

I was able during one of my brief respites to watch him and I could literally "see" his little mind working, processing all the stimuli around him. It was during a realization like this that I found that looking at things from a child's viewpoint makes everything interesting. Using that logic I can better comprehend why he wants to explore, touch, sense and experience all that surrounds him. It helped me to take another deep cleansing breathe, take my son and find more things to help him learn about his world within the confines of an airplane seat!

Our future Olympian?

I think we may have contributed our DNA to a potential candidate for the 2028 games!

Cole has the energy of ten babies rolled into his tiny body. He is tall, strong and skinny. He is commonly mistaken for a baby much older than his age simply because he acts that way.

Cole "trains" like a world class athlete, he chows at every meal then burns off each and every calorie in his quest to explore the world and everything in it by being in perpetual motion ALL DAY LONG. He takes a good snooze after breakfast and then it literally is OFF TO THE RACES. After a particularly stimulating midday workout, a catnap can occur but it is the rare nature of this event that keeps this mom assuming and planning for the alternative.

He is a sight to behold as he begins his day with a spirited gymnastics routine in our bed at 5am. We frequently have the thought "will we ever NOT see 5:00 a.m. on a clock again"?

We laugh as he flies around the house on his bionic knees in a manic rush for some destination (normally somewhere or something dangerous). We realize we should relish in the fact that he has yet to walk but fear that he will just skip that inconvenient and tedious skill and advance to running at full tilt instead.

Cole has the stamina and determination at this young age that I never thought a wee one could possess. If it is at all an indication of his future, then all things are possible.

It will be interesting to see if his endurance continues and he becomes a marathoner through his toddler years. I guess I should eat my Wheaties, put on my running shoes and be prepared for anything!

Cole as living art...

We all can agree that babies are miracles, that their presence in our lives create a magic that takes our breathe away. It is in those moments where I gasp that I find myself marveling at Cole's existence. I find him enchanting as he captivates me with his emerging personality. He is very much his own person and I find that fascinating in a way I never expected.

Cole is independent and lets me know when he would prefer to play solo rather than have me entertaining him with my silly ways. However, he likes to know I am there in the room as a presence and it is during those times that I sit back and watch him with a pride only a mother experiences.

I take these moments to observe every little nuance about him as I know they are fleeting and as time moves forward, they will NEVER be repeated and thus become only a memory in my mind.

Watching Cole is viewing living art. His little hands and fingers grasp his toys with fervor, his feet curl strongly underneath him, each little toe waiting to spring into action and propel him across a room with the fastest crawl this side of the Mississippi. His brow furrows intensely as he teaches himself how to direct a truck's wheels or open a book. He glances up at me occasionally to let me know he knows I am there and shoots me his million dollar smile. He returns to his play and I look on as he continues to explore his world and expand mine.

Who would have thought...

I am continually amazed at the sheer 180 that my life has taken since a year ago. There are moments during my day where I go "WOW, who would have thought...". You truly cannot be prepared for the changes on so many levels when you welcome a baby into your life. While I was reading during pregnancy, I became acutely aware of the obvious things that nurturing and caring for an infant requires and the consequences it would make to my once tidy pre-baby routine. However, there are several things that those darn books don't share. Here are some of my "who would have thought..." insights.

Who would have thought that wiping my lil guy's face after a meal would cause him to go into an absolute fit of such a grand nature you would think I was wiping his skin with Clorox and sandpaper?

Who would have thought that changing a blowout diaper on a stubborn and willful 11 month old on a slippery public bathroom changing station would induce a sweat that had me looking like I had just run a road race?

Who would have thought that baby teeth were sharp as tacks?

Who would have thought that in a matter of 6 seconds that my wee one could cross a room finding danger in what us adults "thought" was a baby proof area?

Who would have thought that seeing the world through a child's eyes meant finding another minuscule piece of "fill in the blank" in his mouth that you "thought" you had cleaned up after vacuuming and scrubbing the floors fifteen times that week?

Who would have thought that I would need the patience of a saint as Cole throws his food off the table with glee again and again and again and I repetitively pick up those tossed beans, carrots, chicken pieces and fruit chunks in hopes that with his ratio of 1 bite to 3 tosses, he will actually ingest some calories?

Who would have thought that his bath time delight could be so contagious that I would be splashing so hard to make him giggle that the bathroom floor would look like someone showered without the curtain?

Who would have thought that such a geniune "arms around the neck with a squeeze" hug could give you shivers up your spine and bring tears to your eyes EVERYTIME?

Who would have thought that the best way to start your day could be the innocent babble of your baby waking up and "talking" to himself?

Who would have thought that having someone so dependent on you, so trusting of you, and so counting on you would be the most important gift anyone could bestow?

Who would have thought indeed!

Road tripping with a baby...

Dave and I have always enjoyed a good road trip. We have two cross country travels together under our belt as well as too numerous day trips to list here. The well known saying "It is the journey not the destination" could not be more fitting for us! The best man's speech at our wedding was themed around our various journeys and travels and our multiple moves of course. We are professionals when it comes to organizing, planning and coordinating long and short distance traverses. Seeing the sites as you head to and from a destination is all part of the experience, hence we continue to put miles on our cars with Tucker (most times) and Cole in tow.

However the other well known quote "having a baby changes everything" certainly applies to our journeys now. While not so long ago, a duffel bag a piece and our camera would suffice, we now find ourselves attempting to pare down what "stuff" one REALLY needs to bring on a trip with a 10 month old. It depends on the length of the drive, whether it requires a hotel stay, where our final destination is and what our activities are once there. That said, a duffel bag for Cole is just the start and that holds only his clothes and the inventory backups for the diaper bag. We then have a bag for toys of varying kinds; for diaper change distractions, for tub time, toys that require active motion (to diffuse his manic moments following hours in his car seat), plush toys to sleep with, and on and on...we have learned to grab just one or two of each but they still seem to take over the rear of the car. Then there is the Bijorn, stroller, portable high chair, pack n play, monitor, sippy cups, plenty of hand wipes, tissues, and the arsenal of diaper bag essentials.

After packing the car like a jig saw puzzle in order to be able to reach any one bag at any given time depending on our needs (blowout diaper, snack, distraction from ensuing meltdown etc) we are on a our way. Of course, our departures are timed around Cole's ONE and only nap of the day with hopes that he drifts on and off again as he commonly does on these trips (oh, thank you, oh thank you!!) Our friends with kids said it was a MUST to have a portable DVD player and we MUST agree they were right. So I rent Brainy Baby and Baby Einsteins from our library and corrupt Cole's brain formation by planting him in front of those while we cruise down the highway. Their repetitive nature puts him sleep anyway!

Cole has been a trooper on our recent LONG 2 1/2 day road trip (each way) for our annual getaway to the Outer Banks. It was worth it but next year we'll be taking two weeks at the beach to balance out the 5 day drive! Our weekend trip to Kansas (7 hours each way not including stops) was a cinch compared to the previous one so we have determined that Cole has both of his parents road tripping genes! We have had the occasional "get me out of this car seat" episodes. I manage to crawl back and entertain him for an hour or so until he is bored of me and decides to snooze.

Overall and for the amount of miles we have accounted for this year alone with our drive out to Minneapolis for our move, our OBX vacation and the weekend in Kansas we certainly have exposed Cole in his first year to quite a few states thus far! We look forward to many MORE memories yet to made on the road as a family!

A day in the life of...

Here is what a "typical" day looks like for Cole (and his parents)...at 10 1/2 months old we have FINALLY found a routine that seems to be working...Cole has been a challenging wee one up until now, he definitely showed us his personality at an early age which has included quite a bit of his mother's feisty spirit and his father's ability for high level function on little sleep.

4:30-5am Time to get up...after a quick nurse Cole is all about the morning babble, I bring him into bed with us and he crawls all over his sleepy parents as we pray he will figure out that it is still dark and that going back to sleep is the very best!!

5:20 After 20 minutes of Cole acting like a monkey with absolutely NO intention of going back to bed, one of us gets up and takes him downstairs to begin the day (while the other of us goes back to bed for another luxurious hour)

6am The breakfast buffet begins. Tucker gets his morning walk. Dave has his two cups of coffee. Mom cleans up the mess Cole makes on the table, chair, everywhere. Tucker hoovers the floor. Mom scrubs the floor for the first time. Mom grabs breakfast on the fly.

7am Cole gets cleaned up and changed out of his now food smeared PJs. The soggy cereal bites, oatmeal and yogurt are wiped away from his ears, hair, fingers and toes (yes his toes). This process can be quite a struggle as taking off clothes and then putting clothes back obviously takes too long as Cole feels he is missing out on something and refuses to assist making what should be a 5-10 minute task more like 15-20 minutes.

7:30 Mom begins her daily load of laundry. Cole plays with Dave as he gets ready for work.

8am Nurse and Nap (normally the only one lasting in length from 25-60 minutes).

8:30-9am Awake cranky from nap. I bring him in the bathroom as I attempt to get myself dressed and ready for the day while entertaining and frequently chasing him.

9am-10am Playtime in the playroom. Read some books.

10-1pm Normally off to walk at a park, arboretum, nature reserve et al, to the library, to ECFE (like mommy/me) class, the gym, to playdates or some other activity to get us out the house.

1pm Lunch buffet. Cole gets a potpourri of crunchers, veggies, proteins and fruits preferably ones that aren't too messy which makes for creative planning on my part. The last thing I want to do is change his clothes. Cole signals he is finished by swiping what remains off the table onto the floor which signals a patiently waiting (and drooling)labrador for clean up. Mom scrubs the floor for the second time.

1:30-2:30 Playtime, nurse and mom's attempt at putting Cole down for second nap which normally backfires and then the next 30 minutes is spent calming an angry Cole down.

3-4:30 Errands of some sort or more playtime, reading, swings at the park.

5pm Stroller ride as we walk Tucker on various routes. We are like the mailman, we walk in all weather.

6pm Dinner bell. Cole begins to chow once again. Mom attempts to keep things interesting and healthy.

6:30-6:45 Dave gets home. Clean up and bathtime. Cole absolutely LOVES his bath. It is his daddy time. Mom once again cleans up and prepares for the adult version of dinner. Mom scrubs the floor for the third time.

7:15-7:30pm Ready for bed. Ten minutes of downtime. A last nurse and light's out. Rarely a struggle, he flips over with butt in the air as soon as I lay him in his crib. Sweet dreams!

Making the time...

In my attempt to reactivate the non-mommy part of my brain, I am diligently making the time to write and read a little bit everyday. One has to find those hidden free moments to actually do so which seems to be the most difficult part of all! That said as I escaped to my basement office to write today's post, I feel an adrenaline rush. I would normally take my shower as Cole takes his ONLY nap but I have taken the gamble and decided to take 20 minutes to write a draft of this post instead. He could awake at any moment leaving me in a predicament as to where then to put him while I do take the shower I delayed but in order to write in peace, albeit at a frantic pace, I have to take a chance. Living on the edge, yes I am!

There are always snippets of time during the day where I can sit down briefly at my computer to check email and stay connected to the outside world. I just don't have the luxury of re-reading or editing my correspondence anymore hence my emails are sent with typos, incomplete sentences (with incomplete thoughts) and numerous other grammatical offenses, all in a rush to get responses out to those who take the time in their busy days to reach out to me!

I used to think sitting in front of my computer in my little paralegal office for 8 hours a day was boring at times. Little did I know that I would be clamoring to have 8 hours of time to do anything without interruption, let alone sit in front of a computer all day. Oh the things those baby books don't tell ya!

Thank goodness for the auto save function on most computer programs as I can't tell you how many times I get a few paragraphs written only to lose sight of Cole and go on the chase, temporarily forgoing what I was doing to go engage and shape Cole's active mind, to come back hours later and find my words still exist.

I used to be able to THINK and act at the same time but my current state of affairs leaves me unable to multi-task in that particular manner. I have however recently become an expert at the diaper change with one hand as my Olympic back archer/wiggler refuses to lay prone hence becoming a standing target. Who needs the gym with this sweat inducing activity multiple times a day? I can also contort myself into various non-standard yoga positions in order to pick something off the floor or take something off a shelf with one hand as my aforementioned Olympian attempts to leap from the aching confines of my left arm to grab at whatever object it is. His lightning fast reflexes are keeping my physical motor skills in fine condition now that I have to play high-lo to keep those objects from his mighty grip.

Anyway, I have gone off on a tangent, keeping me from the purpose of this post which is "making the time". We always say collectively that "if we had the time....", "I wish I had more time", "I always run out of time"...yes, there are only 24 hours in a day but each one of us has the ability to FIND THE TIME or MAKE THE TIME to ensure we do something for ourselves each and every day. Sometimes, this is a challenge that seems too great to overcome and some days it is. But each day provides a new opportunity to MAKE THAT TIME. I am finding it easier to carve out some time to write these posts by re-prioritizing what really matters. I really matter and that trumps the laundry or mopping of the floor for the umpteeth time any day!

I am finally in the process of putting Cole's formal baby book for his first year together. I have kept a weekly journal since his birth capturing all the little things about him that I wanted to have on paper. I knew he would change and grow so fast that I would not remember what it was that fascinated us just months ago! I am so glad that I made that a priority and actually kept to it as I now can read back pages and pages ago my feelings about him as we have ridden this journey of parenthood.

Anyway, I found yet again another "poem" I had stashed in a pocket of the baby book that I obviously took from somewhere, that somewhere unknown since I am guilty of not acknowledging the source in my notes.

Have a baby if you've ever wondered what your soul looks like.

Have a baby if you dare to feel the winds of heaven each time you feel their breath across your cheek.

Have a baby if you have it all and it's still not enough.

Have a baby if you have found your purpose but your purpose hasn't really found you.

Have a baby if you ever wondered what "mother nature" really means.

Have a baby if you need proof that God truly does exist.

Have a baby if you have trouble staying in the moment.

Have a baby if you have stopped believing in miracles.

Have a baby if the idea of sacrifice and surrender for all the right reasons appeals to you.

Have a baby if you can't put your finger on what is missing from your life.

Have a baby if you love things that smell wonderful.

Have a baby if you have lost your innocence, a baby will find it for you.

Exercising my right brain...

Being out of the workplace since Cole's birth and thus with a severe reduction in my mental and social stimulation for the better part of year, I find myself stumbling at "tasks" I once was very proficient at such as speaking in complete sentences!

For a time, I could use the excuse of sleep deprivation when I would begin a conversation only to find midway through a chat that my focus had drifted and I couldn't remember what it was I was actually chatting about. We are STILL sleep deprived, due to our little engine with the everlasting energy (despite his lack of naps and his abnormally early wakeup hour). However I no longer feel I can blame my foggy mental state on my sad sleep status. So to make things easier on myself I just fault my elementary level (once honed and sharp as a tack) left brain skills on becoming a mom.

All but a year ago, I was able to stay organized WITHOUT the assistance of post-it notes but with a now serious lapse in my short term memory, I have a pad of the yellow stick-ems with me at all times. I used to keep the running grocery list tucked in my left cerebral lobe, now I have to keep it tacked on the refrigerator or I have the tendency to misplace it.

Somewhere in the transition on December 6, 2006, it is now my belief that the Fairy of New Moms came and filled my left brain with sand and filled my right brain with "mom dust". This "mom dust" as I fondly refer to it has allowed me to find my silly side, one capable of singing off tune new verses to "Hush Little Baby", ones that the original lyricist would probably find quite creative. All I know is that out of my mouth comes nursery rhymes and stories regurgitated as if I studied up in preparation so a surge of right brain synapses are now firing. I have gone from discussing legal formatting to babbling nonsense. All that matters is that Cole seems to understand as he shrieks in sheer delight, responds in kind, and shoots me his million dollar smile.

Sums things up!

I came across this somewhere shortly after having Cole. I wish I could remember where but I had jotted it down in the little notebook I carry with me and I did not capture the source...

You are the poem I dreamed of writing...the masterpiece I longed to paint...you are the shining star I reached for...you are my child, now with all things I am blessed.

Capturing the moment before it fades...

I'm sitting down for one of those rare moments that Cole is actually napping and I find myself astounded that I don't really know what I should be doing. For once in a blue moon I feel caught up on bills, laundry, grocery lists, cleaning et al and the million other TO-DOs can wait for some reason (I can't tell you the last time I thought that...LOL). Do I read, watch TV, peruse a magazine, write?? I have precious minutes of ME time to spend and I literally am at a loss as to how to spend them. I think I have forgotten how to be ME? I don't say that with sadness, I just mean that for the past 10 months my days have not been about me. So here I am finally crafting a post to a BLOG that I created months ago but have yet to have sat down to actually begin writing for.

I am well past the 90 day orientation period where in a new job employees and their employers evaluate how things are going. I have not had so much as a spare moment to actual THINK like I once used to. I have been operating on automatic drive the past 10 months so it had not yet crossed my mind to take a step back and "critique" myself in my new role with my new responsibilities. So I am taking advantage of the strange peace and quiet I find myself reveling in as Cole has decided to make the most of a rainy day and nap (the two new teeth he sprouted may have something to do with this sudden desire to catch some ZZZZs!)

Unless you have "worked" in the same profession you may not understand how quickly AND how slowly simultaneously days pass, how they have have no true agenda and a schedule redefines itself daily. Unless however you are a first time mom. You can read, prepare, plan, shop, listen to others, research, and take a class but there is NO true instruction manual for having a baby, becoming a mom for the first time and learning to balance a whole new way of life and purpose.

For today, I will just blog about Cole's birth as that day is waning in my memory and I want to preserve my recollection of that once in a lifetime event.

Cole was born in early December a few days later than the EDD (estimated delivery date). After several early pre-term scares where everyone anxiously waited his/her early arrival (as we did not know the gender beforehand) Cole decided to become a squatter in his existing abode and required an eviction notice and some assistance in moving.

The induction started out at 7am but proceeded painstakingly slow in the initial hours, tick-tock, tick-tock went the first 7 hours .Once my OB got my waters flowing around 2pm, things picked up speed. In fear of utter exhaustion and due to the contractions coming at a Pitocin-induced pace, I gave in and got the Epidural around 4pm. AHHHHH... relief...my best friend had told me with great emphasis (and numerous times over my pregnancy) to get one but I had resisted and had wanted to do it MY way. Well we all know about best intentions...blah blah blah. I jumped in dilation numbers pretty quickly and found myself fully 10cm and being told to push around 8pm without any advanced warning. It was really and truly like, OKAY, READY SET GO! It was like going from 0-60mph in a car without having control of the steering. Here is how the next few hours played out (from my memory of it).

1 hour down (I am a pusher like no other pusher according to the nurse)

2 hours down (they kept telling me they could see the head, I was skeptical but hey, I didn't exactly have the best view)

2 hours 15 minutes (I am now scaring all the other laboring moms in the ward with my grunting/mewling as the epidural has run out)

2 hours 30 minutes (I am running on fumes and begging Dave to do something about the pain)

2 hours 45 minutes (they finally decide that the baby is not descending and a C-section is the only way out. Oh, and by the way you cannot push anymore WHAT!?? My brain cannot compute that function, refresh, try again.)

I was becoming frantic and I couldn't breathe (get that damn oxygen mask out of my face). I needed pain relief (where the hell was the guy with the needles that I so wanted to avoid just hours before!!??) In the fog that is pain, I was absolutely unaware of ten or so medical personnel bustling in my room other than Dave, my OB and my nurse. I now know why the drug doc gets paid so much. The 20 minutes or so that passed until they wheeled me into the OR felt like hours. Once pain relief came, I was talking in full expletive free sentences again but feeling anxiety about the surgery I was so mentally unprepared for. This was going to complicate my recovery and my ability to be mobile dammit! I had wanted to avoid drugs and being bedridden and yet ended up drugged and immobile and now with a icky scar on my once smooth tummy (I had avoided stretch marks so was doubly pissed about the scar).

However, the end result was all that mattered and our little boy was born healthy at 8lbs 6 oz and had big feet (I repeated this several times to Dave's annoyance but it was all I could see of Cole for the first several moments as they did all his checks). Cole was born just after midnight at 12:06 am on 12/6/06 (WOW, that will be a statistic easy to remember) and by the time we were wheeled back to the room, it was the middle of the night. As the racing of my heart lessened, the magnitude of what had just occurred overwhelmed my exhausted mind and body. I silently cried with tears of joy as I gazed into Cole's face as he slept peacefully with newborn breathe. The lights were dimmed in the room and it took on an entirely different mood than it had hours earlier. Dave was out cold breathing heavily on the pull out chair. He was way beyond exhausted after having coached me through what ended up being my most difficult feat in life to date! I can only guess at the sheer amount of energy, stamina, and brain power it took to guide me through labor and delivery. Without his calming presence, I would have wigged out entirely especially when I realized following each contraction that the PRESSURE was becoming PAIN and my luck and time had run out! The clock read 3am as a nurse came in to check on me, my mouth was as dry as the Sahara but she wouldn't get me ice for fear I would puke post-op, ummm, so what, i was doped up on Morphine!! That anecdote aside, here I was holding our son in my arms! How many times had I dreamt about having a boy!! I had felt so assuredly that it was a boy I was growing in my womb all along and here was living proof that my gut was spot on! I relish that I had been given that quiet wee hour of the night to digest that I was now a parent. My life as everyone had told me would be changed forever and as I sat there processing the journey to Cole's birth, I kept thinking of the Johnson and Johnson's ad "a baby changes everything". There is no other statement that holds so much truth behind its' words!