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.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
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.
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.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
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!
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!
Monday, November 5, 2007
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 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!
Saturday, November 3, 2007
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.
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.
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