The finer things in life.

Let me start this post by admitting to you that I have no idea why this text is underlined and that I have no idea how to remove it. So, we will pretend that what I am saying is so important that it deserves to be underlined.

Okay, now that that's out of the way, I have been reflecting on my post about yearning to share
my childhood toys and memories with a little girl. I realized this morning
that I already share so much with my son
that I enjoyed as a child.
Most of it is candy and TV shows but that's okay...
those are the finer things in life.

So, without even realizing what I was doing, I have shared these wonderful treasures with Griffin.

One of the best books in the world that my Mom read to me often

Sweet Corduroy and his quest for a lost button.

The blue and pink Fun Dip mustache.
(why did the underline go away here? It's a mystery!)

The ever so sticky and delicious Ring Pop

Wacka, Wacka, Wacka

The Boomerang Network has let me share The Jetsons, Richie Rich, and The Smurfs.

Who can resist Fruit Stripe gum?

I had the most brilliant and carefree childhood
and I want so badly to create the same for my boys.
It was full of sweets, kisses, hugs, good books, and Saturday morning cartoons.
I don't need a daughter to pass down a legacy of fun.
Just give me a gas station full of candy
and I'll draw you a map to my childhood days.

For the record, my teenage years were full of poor report cards, being grounded, my phone being taken away from my room because I talked to boys at all hours of the night, and after school detention for tardiness.

On second thought, I guess that goes to show what a kooshy childhood
full of candy and video games can do to a kid.
Ah...who cares?
I'm still gonna spoil my kids rotten with
the finer things in life!

Love, insanity, and two kids.

(via Team Boo from the Fallen Princess Project)

We had been driving for 3 hours and somewhere between the small towns of Camilla and Albany, Georgia...our car turned into a war zone. It had been a long journey to Florida for our vacation and the journey home seemed even longer. Koen was at the end of his little tiny rope and was screaming in the back seat. I kicked off my flip flops, clumsily climbed into the back seat, and squeezed my butt between the two car seats. With one hand propped to hold the pacifier in Koen's mouth and the other arm being held hostage by Griffin (who thinks it's so cool when I sit in the back that he enthusiastically grabs at my arm and kisses it all over, which is sweet but not so easy when you are crammed into that little space) I fought with all of my might not to break down into tears along with Koen.

Little did I know that things would unravel to an even more insane place.

Griffin got in on the action and decided to start screaming too. He put his hands over his ears, closed his eyes, shook his head manically, and yelled "DON'T PANIC GRIFFIN!" over and over at the top of his lungs. The poor kid flips out when Koen freaks out and that is unfortunate for the entire family. Especially when you are all crammed in the car. It takes so much work not to flip out on Griffin for flipping out over Koen who is flipping out because he is just a baby and that's what babies do.

Roger tried to troubleshoot and shouted from the front seat, "Griffin, are you hungry?" Because whenever Griffin is hungry he turns into a drunk frat boy. We have solved many tantrums by simply force feeding him pretzels more than once.

"NO, I'M NOT HUNGRY!" was his response. Meanwhile, Koen had crossed over into exorcist proportions, was bright red, and flailing his arms.

It was, in a word, insane. My heart rate sped up and my head throbbed.

I! Was! Going! To! Freak my freak! Needless to say, none of this madness would make it into our sweet home Movie.

Roger caught my eye in the rear view mirror and smiled the kindest smile. He just shook his head with a slight giggle and mouthed the words "I love you." I let out a sigh and mouthed back, "I love you too." Then we just locked eyes in the reflection and shook our heads and smiled at each other. All of the noise dissolved around me, although both of the children were still screaming. Suddenly, it didn't matter that everything was falling apart. We were in this thing together and in the end, our love would endure all of the tantrums and hardships that come with being parents. As long as we stay connected and don't let the crazy moments divide us, we will be a strong family.

The truth is, that we wanted this life, insanity and all. If we didn't have these children, my life would seem aimless. I realized in that moment what being a family was all about, loving each other no matter what happens. It means laughing at the hard times as well as the funny moments.

We stopped the car and Roger got out with Griffin. They threw rocks into the woods on the side of some no name road we had pulled over on. I saved Koen from his dreaded car seat and nursed him in the car. After we had strapped the children back in and had gotten back on the road, I climbed back into the front seat next to Roger. The children were like little angels in the back seat.

Roger reached over and grabbed my hand. We held hands for miles and miles.

I decided to play with my Holga

Watermelons at the Watkinsville 4th of July Celebration

Backyard pool fun

4th of July Parade

My little cowboy!

Words to meditate on

I'm all into playing silly Blog games
with my friends these days.
It makes me feel like
I'm part of a "Blogging community."

So here is my latest dip into trying to be cool.

Reply to this post using words, and I’ll give you 5 words that remind me of you,Then post to your own blog with your meditations on those words, inviting others to ask you for words.

Supergirl Saves the World gave me this assignment:

Mother. Self-reflective. Witty. Nostalgia. Selflessness

The kids are in bed and the hubby tucked in early too. I have a moment to myself. Whew.

What better way to use my well earned free time to not only complete this task but to also post images by my absolute favorite artist of all time Nikki Mcclure ? Yeah...cause I'm just that creative.

Mother

I've always wanted to be a Mom. When my husband and I were dating, I told him that I knew that it sounded crazy but I really wanted to be a stay at home mom. His mom stayed home with him and he was thrilled that I wanted to do it too. I think that we both knew at that moment that we were going to get married and raise a family together. It was exciting! Two kids later I am so glad that I made that decision. I have a heart that was made to love my children. Some people are brought into your life to challenge you, while others swoop in and teach you what it means to truly love someone unconditionally. My son's teach me everyday just as much as I teach them. It's overwhelming and humbling to have so much respect and love go back and forth each day.

Self-reflective

Self-reflection is a gift and a curse. When I was a teenager and I had some sort of issue, my mother would suggest that I go in my room and write about it in my journal. Then, after I had figured out a solution, she would take me out to dinner and we would discuss my reflections and discoveries. What a gift she gave me in that. I learned to look within at an early age. If I experienced heartache or embarrassment my mom would say "What have you learned from this experience?" It made me fearless because every horrible moment would be followed by a lesson that I carry with me to this day. It's those moments when you look within and discover strength and dignity. On the other hand, too much reflection can make a girl crazy. It's a very delicate balance.

Witty

When I was growing up, my dad was a clown. He was even Ronald Mcdonald for a while. He was also a magician, mime, and a puppeteer. He did birthday parties and often times, I was his handy assistant. I think that this gave me a leg up in the witty department. I also think that it's important to be able to find the humor in life. This is a strong part of my marriage. When things get really hard, it's crucial that my man and I can just look at each other and laugh.

Nostalgia

I have a strange thought sometimes. I think about myself as a child, my little legs and curly hair. My freckles and silly teeth and I miss that little girl. I mean, I'm still the same person but that little girl is physically not on this earth anymore. That is nostalgia to me. It's an ache for once was and a yearning to see that little girl just one more time when I look in the mirror.

Selflessness

This is a hard pill for me to swallow because I am not a selfless person by nature. I mean, if I have two slices of cake left and one slice is the corner piece that has all the frosting, you can bet your sweet ass that I'm taking the piece with that yummy frosting. I'll find no shame in handing you the crummy slice with just a little bit of icing on it. Trust me, just ask my husband, the poor guy hasn't eaten a decent bite of cake since the moment I walked into his life! My children have taught me what it means to be selfless and I have to fight to do it everyday. The tricky part is to pull it off without becoming a martyr. Nobody likes a martyr. If dinner is on the table and my baby starts to cry because he's hungry, I put down my fork and feed my son. No questions asked. Then, I have to try real hard to not return to the table and feel sorry for myself that my food is cold and I'm too damn hungry to heat it up. Isn't is amazing that I just managed to associate the word selflessness with food? Hmmm...perhaps I should reflect on that!

Why I love the grocery store

I find pleasure in simple tasks,
like going to the grocery store.
I've always loved it, even as a young child
my favorite day was when my Mom took us grocery shopping.

She would give me a list of all the items we needed
that were on the lower part of the shelf.
I felt so grown up as I tossed Macaroni and Cheese
into my own little plastic shopping cart.

You know the cart I'm talking about...
the one almost every little girl had in 1978.

Yup...that's the one!

Anyhoo...my love for the grocery store
shifted once I went to C0llege.
Whenever I was heartbroken or angst ridden
I would go to the grocery store.
Maybe it was the bright colors that cheered me up.
Maybe it was because it was a way for me
to be surrounded by people when I felt lonely.
For whatever reason, I really found comfort
in wandering aimlessly at my local Kroger.
I was a lost soul that took shelter
in the magazine aisle .

Now, as an adult, I still have a love for the grocery store.
I think that now it's because I am there
to nurture my family with my well
thought out purchases.
I love it because when it's hot outside
and we feel cooped up
I'll pack up the kids and go wander around
in the air conditioning and pick
out crap we don't need.
Like bubbles, magic markers, and Hot wheels.
It is instant entertainment for the hot and bored child.

Today my Mom stopped by and
I escaped to Kroger while she stayed home
with the boys.
It was like a day at the spa for me.
The luxury of selecting my groceries in silence
bewitched me and before I knew it,
I had snatched my camera
and taken a picture of a place
and time that I could call all my own.

My evening from 5:15 pm to 6:01 pm

5:15 preheat oven

5:15-5:23 Help Griffin look for Darth Vadar action figure, find it under the couch.

5:24 Put ham in oven that my dad bought at Kroger on sale, set timer for 15 minutes.

5:24-5:36 breastfeed Koen on the couch, try to keep Griffin from jumping on my head.

5:36-5:38 listen to Griffin beg me to make him chicken nuggets while Koen nurses.

5:38-5:40 take ham out of oven, put french fries in oven, put corn on the stove, put Griffin's chicken nuggets in the microwave, put pacifier in Koen's mouth because he is screaming to nurse on the other boob.

5:42 Set timer for 10 minutes, put Griffin's food on a plate, grab Koen, deliver Griffin his meal that he eats on the couch while watching Arthur on PBS.

5:42-5:54 nurse Koen

5:54 turn off timer that beeped nonstop while I let Koen finish nursing, put garlic toast in oven, burp koen

5:55 cleaned up Griffin's spilled drink on the couch...while holding Koen.

5:59 get food out of oven, slap it on a plate, throw it on the table.

6:00 Roger walks in the door, home from a long day of work.

6:01 Pour myself a glass of wine and eat dinner.

Not the most glamorous 46 minutes of my life...
but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Unless I could have a live in maid, chef, and nanny.

Beef stroganoff, tears, and sushi

It was Saturday night and I was crying
as I threw a family size Stouffer's Beef Stroganoff into the microwave.
Why am I in tears? I asked myself
it's just one meal...one stupid meal.
I really should not be crying about beef stroganoff.

I was crying because I had a baby 3 weeks ago
and had only left the house 5 times.
3 of those were to the pediatrician
1 was to my mom's house.
and 1 was a trip to the McDonald's drive thru.

It was Saturday night
and my mom had taken Griffin
so Roger and I could have a "date night"
I say "date night" in quotations because
we still had Koen.

I still had to breast feed every 2 hours
I still had to change dirty diapers
I still had to be a mommy.
Let's face it though, a 3 week old is
much simpler than a 4 year old.
A 3 week old can't argue with you and call you poo poo head.

Okay...it was a "date night"
and all I wanted to do
was go out to dinner.

Just the 3 of us.

Koen was cranky
I was exhausted with spit up in my hair
and dried breast milk on my dress.
It would have taken an hour to get ready to leave.

I gave up on going to dinner.
"How about we order some sushi?"
I suggested.
Yeah...that's a grown up thing to do
Eat yummy sushi and watch Tropic Thunder on DVD.
Then, it started to rain.
It started to rain hard.
Who wants to trudge out in the rain
to pick up dinner?
Not us!

Fine...the evening was falling apart.
I resigned myself to the fact
that all we had in the kitchen was stupid dumb beef stroganoff.

That was when I started crying.

Roger saw me falling apart.
He instructed me to call in my sushi order
drive myself up to Kroger to buy a diaper genie bag
then pick up my sushi.
He was going to sacrifice his dinner and
eat the damn beef stroganoff.

I dried my tears and hopped into the car.
Led Zeppelin was on the radio.
I almost felt human again.

As I drove, I realized that I had not driven anywhere
for the last 7 weeks.
My belly had gotten so big that
I took my parents up on an offer to be my chauffeur's at the end of my pregnancy.
Then the midwives said I couldn't drive for 3 weeks.

Don't tell them but I drove after 2 weeks and 6 days.

It felt great. As I walked into Kroger
I felt energized to see all the people
out and about. I felt adventurous.

45 minutes later I was at home with
a belly full of sushi
and a restored spirit.

Sometimes all a girl needs

is a little independence

even if it's as small as driving herself to the grocery store.

I almost feel like myself again.
If you've had a baby then
you understand exactly what I'm talking about.

MOM TO TWO

So...I look like hell in this picture. I had just given birth 7 hours earlier and my hair is a mess. If you could see inside my flesh though, you would see a huge red heart swelling with pride. I love that I have 2 kids now. Not that it hasn't been an adjustment.

I had my first taste of my new role the other day. My mom has been staying with us and she is a HUGE help. Well, she went to the bathroom for 4 minutes the other afternoon and in that time, everything went to hell and it went fast!

Koen opened his eyes from a long nap and was starving. His little voice whimpered and as I picked him up to nurse him Griffin yelled over the crying "I NEED A SNACK!" Full of guilt that he is not the only boy in my life anymore, I high tailed it to the kitchen to get him his snack before I settled down to nurse. Koen was screaming and sucking on my cheek as I prepared Griffin's snack with one hand. I broke it down step by step as Koen tried his hardest to suck milk out of my chin...put the pretzels in a bowl, calmly grab a juice box, you are in control, everything is okay, I tried to tell myself.

I handed Griffin his snack and he demanded "Put it over there." then he started to really sass me "STOP HIM FROM SCREAMING! GO AWAY MOM!" Koen was in hysterics at this point and sucking on my nose. I was trying my hardest to get the damn straw into the juice box with my teeth and one hand. I didn't have the energy to discipline Griffin at that moment and I was fed up. I threw the juice box on the couch to flee the scene and nurse Koen. The juice box promptly landed on Griffin's bowl and sent his pretzels flying into the air.

Griffin lost it. "You threw food at me!" He was crying, Koen was screaming, I started crying as I gathered up his spilled pretzels and then I escaped into the other room leaving Griffin to stew alone with his abused snack.

I sobbed while I nursed Koen.

My mom came out of the bathroom. "What happened in there?" My mom asked gently. "Griffin said that you threw food at him, but I told him that it must have been an accident because mom would never do that."

"No mom", I said between sobs, "I didn't throw food at him, it was a juice box and you are never allowed to go to the bathroom again!"

I found my monkey

I was on the birth ball and my hips were swaying from side to side as the contractions started coming faster and harder. I knew at that moment that my grand plan of hypnobirthing carrying me through Koen's birth was not going to happen. It was at that pivotal moment that my Doula, the lovely Pat Nielson, quoted Ina May Gaskin and told me "You gotta let your monkey do it." Little did I know, that I had a strong monkey living within me. I had to leave all reasoning behind and let my body take over.

I'm getting ahead of myself though, let me start early on Easter morning.

I woke up Easter morning to a slow drip of amniotic fluid. As Griffin celebrated his Easter basket I called the midwife and shared the news. "Call me at 2 pm" was her response. My body needed to start contractions and I had to wait until they formed a pattern before it would be time to head to the hospital. It never happened. I ate brunch, had an Easter egg hunt with Griffin, and just went about my day with a contraction here and there but no true pattern formed. I called at 2 pm "Come in at 7 and we'll check you." were the directions given to me. That would have given my body 12 hours to do the work.

We arrived at the hospital and I was nervous. I had been told horror stories about the use of Pitocin to start labor and was really scared. We decided to do a slow drip of Pitocin to see if my body would grab the contractions and take over. The midwife on call was Christy, a young whippersnapper of a lady who seemed to know her stuff. It was 11 pm, we all settled down to try to get some sleep. Christy predicted it would be 8 am before we really saw some action. I put on my lavender eye pillow, grabbed my I pod, and put on my Hypnobirthing Cd's to work through the contractions. The room was dark, it was quiet, and my belly started to stir with activity. I tried to pretend that I wasn't feeling anything and that I was going to fall into a peaceful slumber. Pat had gone to try to sleep in the room next to us, with an eye on a monitor that showed Koen's vitals and my activity.

A big contraction hit and Pat came sailing into the room and sat next to me as if I had called her to me. She has an uncanny way of reading my mind. We sat and chatted as I worked through a few hard contractions but nothing too painful. We all gave up on getting any rest. Roger got up, we turned on the lights, grabbed a birth ball, and had grand conversations as I slowly labored. I had a Popsicle, it was actually kind of fun. The three of us, just chatting away as my body did the work.

Then, my demeanor changed. There were some contractions that I couldn't talk through. Roger and Pat took turns rubbing my back. I had to pee every 2 seconds. Things were getting more serious. Pat called Christy in and she checked me. I was at 6 cm and dilating fast. It was then that I knew that I had to find my monkey. I abandoned hypnobirthing, I admit it, I just couldn't wrap my brain around it anymore. It seemed daunting to try to relax. I couldn't tap into my natural endorphins anymore. The contractions were too fast and too hard. It was time for me to get primitive-or get an epidural.

In my heart, I wanted to do this birth naturally and had instructed my team to help me at least try to get there without pain medication and work through it. I told Pat, "I'm seeing a word in bright shiny letters and it says epidural!" Instead of calling the anesthesiologist she filled up the tub with hot steamy water and tossed me in there. It was a liquid epidural. Tension melted away as she grabbed a bucket and poured the hot water onto my belly. Roger put cool wash cloths on my forehead. I had a great team surrounding me. The midwife and a nurse (pregnant herself, which comforted me somehow) were in the bathroom too. I felt safe as I floated in the water.

Then, Christy checked me, the contractions were so close that I almost lost it a few times. I was at 8 cm-no wonder I felt insane. Christy discovered that the amniotic sac was still blocking Koen's head. He had made a small tear on the side and that was what started the leak. He wouldn't come until the sac popped. She offered to break the water for me. "It will cut the time you have left by 30 minutes to an hour." "DO IT!" was my response. After that, things started to really move. My uterus was pulsating, I got out of the tub and sat down on the toilet to relax. I started crying, I remember being naked and vulnerable and Roger busting through our team of ladies and just held me as I cried. They moved me to the bed because my monkey had completely taken over and I was making all kinds of wonderful jungle noises. I impressed myself with just how primitive I felt.

Once I was on the bed, I had a good old fashioned freak out. It was all so intense, the pressure, the fear of the unknown. How long would I have to push? How much damage would I do to my hooha? My brain couldn't process my thoughts and I just started to lose it a bit. My team rallied around me. Pat practically sat on me and put her hands on my shoulders. "When I touch your shoulders, that means relax." Okay...I can do that, I thought to myself. Roger rubbed my head so lovingly, Christy called my name to get my attention "Let him go!" she said to me. Okay, I reached deep within myself and decided to give in. I was going to have this baby. 12 minutes later, Koen was on my belly crying. He was perfect!

I was in labor for 4 hours. It was fast and beautiful. Thanks to my team who stuck with me and pushed me to find my inner strength. Thanks to my husband who gave me so much support and love. Thanks to Koen for working so hard to push his way down. I owe at all to my monkey though, that fearless little creature that I found. Now, I feel like I can do anything!

A moment of pride?

I told Roger that if he let me pick the name Koen
then he could pick the middle name. No questions asked.
He has taken his time and
not offered many hints.
The other day I asked him if he had any ideas.
He said he was thinking of the name Ash.
He said it with a side glance and a grin.

For those of you not familiar
with significance of this name,
I am not surprised at all.

Ashley J. "Ash" Williams is the protagonist
in the Evil Dead and Army of Darkness horror film franchise.
Played by Bruce Campbell
he is an absurd character who
cuts off his arm because he is possessed
and then rigs this awesome chainsaw for an arm.
He kicks serious ass.

Amazingly enough, I am cool with
Roger's choice.
I guess that he married the right woman.

So, it looks like our little guy will be named

Koen Ash Hewett

I think it sounds like a rock star
or a really cool action hero.

I can't wait to meet him!

Lamenting bed time

We are indulgent about bedtime at our house. I'm sure that Griffin will need to talk many hours on a therapist's couch about our decadent bedtime.

Why not snuggle? Why not lay down in bed with him and rub his arm gently until he drifts off to sleep? I love telling Griffin this little story that I made up called "The Magic Pillow", it's a simple sweet story about a little boy that stumbles upon a pillow that tells him a magical story that helps him drift off to sleep. It's really a guided meditation where the pillow says goodnight to his body from his head to his toes and each body part gets heavy and falls asleep. I love laying next to him as he plays with my hair and I watch him fall peacefully asleep. Indulgence in it's finest form. Why not take the time for a decadent moment together? I mean, your only 4 once, right?

I am a big ball of emotion these days due to the fact that I am growing this baby we have coming soon at a rapid rate. The tears are easy to fall. I am slowly lamenting tender moments between Griffin and I that will soon need to change. Because Cohen will deserve a wonderful sleepy time with mommy too.
I hope that I will have the energy to give them both magical sleep.

Roger is going to take over Griffin's bedtime after Cohen is born because I will be nursing.
Although Roger enjoys that time with Griffin I can hear him attempting to tell him The Magic Pillow story over the monitor and Griffin will correct him at parts and say "Mommy doesn't tell it that way!"

We will find our way as a family, I know we will.

We will love each other through all the new changes that are coming our way.
Maybe I'll do bedtime with Griffin while Cohen is attached to my boob.
I'll just be a big a life giving, story telling, over-indulgent mommy
who can love both of her boys equally at once.

It's gettin' heavy

There is nothing like a crisis to bring a family together. My older brother is having a hard time these days. I won't go into details because I know that he doesn't want me bloggidy blogging away about his personal life but I will say that he is having a crisis. There have been tears. We're all crying together. There has been heartache and late night calls. We are there for him as a family.

Our love runs deep.

He is being tested, I know he is, and he will come out of this in one piece. Thanks to my mom.

She is flying out Sunday to be with him in Colorado as he sorts through his life and gets back on track. She's going to be gone for one month, which happens to be the seventh month of my pregnancy. My security blanket is leaving to wrap her arms around my brother.

He needs her more than I do.

The timing is amazing really because I have started mourning the loss of the life that Griffin and I have together. Of course we are thrilled to have Cohen (the spelling of his name has changed 10 times, we've settled on this..for real!) but there is a part of me that will miss the special time that Griffin and I have had together. It's been the best 4 years of my life so far, having my sweet son all to myself.

We are soul mates.

So as my mom leaves to take care of her "little boy" (because I guess that we never stop being a son or daughter, despite our age) I will also be spending some much needed special time with my little boy.

The other morning, I was feeling pregnant and emotional and sad for my brother. I crawled into bed with Griffin as he slept and wrapped my arms around him and smelled the top of his head and breathed in all the sweetness that is my first born son. I ached for him and cried until his hair was damp with my tears because I know that my attention will have to be divided up after Cohen arrives.

There is enough love to go around.

So I as I sadly wave goodbye to my mom (and with her goes date nights, help around the house, a shoulder to lean on) I will take a lesson from her that she does not even know she is teaching me.

That you are always there for your children. Even if they are 37 and crying to you over the phone or 34 and with child.

You never stop being mommy.

A letter to my second born son...

Dear Cowen,
If you ever read this I want you to know how much I love you. When I was at the OB's office getting an ultrasound to find out if you were a boy or a girl the tech scanned your entire body as you kicked and squirmed in my belly. She said "Are you ready to find out if you're having a boy or a girl." I nodded and held my breath. As the image became clear, I saw that you were a boy and said out loud "That looks like a boy?" She nodded and said "You're right, it's a little boy!" I was so excited to know who you were.

I always thought that I wanted a little girl and at first, I mourned my childhood fantasy of having a daughter. I knew that having a son meant that I would never get to put pig tails in my little girl's hair or help my teenage daughter pick out a prom dress. At first, I let myself feel sad about that.

Then something amazing happened. After one week of lamenting the loss of a pink room and little purple leg warmers, you started to really move around inside me. The kicks got harder and I could really feel you wiggling in my belly. I started to feel YOU.

I have to tell you that after I had given birth to your big brother Griffin, the strangest thing happened. I would have him all dressed and the diaper bag full of bottles, diapers, a change of clothes, and all the things that a mom packs to take care of her baby. I remember one day, I had put him in his car seat and had my full bag with me, ready to run an errand. I felt like I had forgotten something in the house. I did a mental check list of all that I needed and I had grabbed everything. Then I realized that it was you. My next baby who would one day come to me. This happened to me on and off over the next 3 and a half years. A moment would pass and I would feel like something was missing. It was you. I was missing you.

So now, I am 19 weeks pregnant with the baby that I have been waiting for. As you grow and kick me, I am feeling overwhelmed by the fact that you will one day soon be in my arms. That you, sweet boy, are the soul that I have been waiting for. Not a daughter like I thought wanted. No, I'm realizing before I even meet you, that what I NEED is you. I will celebrate every inch of you. I will celebrate everything about you. I will have my two boys and we will have wonderful adventures together.

You Cowen...are perfect for our family. I can't wait to meet you.

I love you,
Mom

Leigh:1 and Laundry:0

Laundry will forever be my plight. It is a cruel and indifferent pile of clothes that stare me down day after day. I have no problem tossing clothes into the washer. I can even handle putting them in the dryer. It is the folding of clothes that drives me crazy. I'll toss a clean load onto the bed and forget to fold it. When bed time rolls around, we toss the clean load onto the floor to mingle with the dirty clothes that are scattered all over the ground. Roger has a theory that if a dirty shirt touches a clean shirt then they are both dirty. So, the pile gets picked up and tossed into the laundry room. Clean and dirty clothes make love in a nasty pile in front of my washing machine and the cycle begins again when they leave the dryer and are tossed to the bed. They wait to be thrown back on the floor, never worn, always "dirty" somehow.

Well not this week! I have overcome my urge to not fold clothes and I owe it all to my mother. She has stepped in to put an end to the battle that I have going with the laundry. Since I have been pregnant and sick my mother and I have indulged each other. I let her come over in the afternoons and take over my house and she gets to fulfill a life long dream of teaching me how to run a functioning household. It's been the best thing to happen to my little family.

When I was a teenager I knew that my mom had the urge to teach me how to be a homemaker. She had so many secrets that she had learned from reading Family Circle over the years that she wanted to bestow upon me. Honestly, I didn't give a crap about that kind of stuff at the time. If she had tried to teach me the wonderful benefits of sprinkling Comet all over the kitchen sink I would have rolled my eyes and walked away. So, I can see a twinkle in her eye when she gives me a tip here or there as she floats around my house doing menial tasks. We are forging a new era as mother and daughter. Where she tells me where to put my clean panties and I do it with a smile. It's a beautiful moment, the passing of knowledge between my trips to the bathroom to throw up.

So, thanks to my mommy and the purchase of 5 laundry baskets that have been lovingly placed throughout my house. The laundry is clean and has been for one week. I'll keep you posted as the battle continues and I bask in the domestic glow that my mother has unconditionally shined upon me.