A little life, a little love.

Our lives have been HECTIC lately. I mean, make sure you're wearing two socks that match at, oh, say 2:00 p.m., because that's when you finally got to it on your mental post-it, hectic. Or, better yet, eat the breakfast sausage that is burnt to small little charcoal fingers because a) you weren't paying attention when you cooked them as you juggled the scrambled eggs, keeping tiny little fingers out of the ketchup and unwrapping the tuft of your hair he has seemed to tie in a knot (didn't think you could actually tie hair in a knot? Guess again.), all while, say pouring juice and milk simultaneously, and b)you seem to have forgotten to eat today, and now at 7 p.m. are STARVING, so charcoal fingers, look, well, finger-lickin' good.

So when Valentine's Day started creeping up I tried desperately to push it back. To hold on to each day approaching V-day's last few minutes trying to make more time for myself. Drew, lovely husband that he is, made is SUPER EASY for me this year. I say that with sarcasm (insert it here.) As many of you know, I LOATHE easy gifts. I like to spend time picking them out, so when Drew announced that he wanted a battery for his motorcycle I was so excited that I nearly yawned. The problem was though, that this "let me hand you my present so you can hand it back to me" always makes me feel guilty, and then I feel like I have to find something to get him anyhow...

A week before V-day I was plagued with nay-sayer encounters. Now, I know that some people don't like Valentine's Day, but those love-less sticklers that insist its a "Hallmark Holiday" make me want to smush their little heads. I mean really? Is it that bad to share the love? Don't you think the sad state of affairs our country is in could use a little more love? No one said it had to be romantic. Going to work I heard some acquaintances tell me just how much they dislike having to "buy-in" to all the "crap". Who says you have to, though? Can't you make it about what you want,like, oh, say, the people you appreciate? Nay-sayers, pessimists, Negative Nancy's- you bug me. Fill your half-empty glass up! Enjoy life for 5 minutes or so. Geez.

Then there was Collin. The little bundle of love that I couldn't help but want to squeeze with hugs and kisses all day long. I couldn't skimp and not get something for him... I mean, HELLO, he is one of the two leading men in my life. So, as hectic goes, it was Saturday, and I had NADA. I decided to get Collin some books and Drew, well..., still nothing. Overcome with guilt I threw in the towel. There just wasn't any TIME! Where on earth does it all go?!?
I made a list of errands to run and was nearly out the door when Drew announced he and Collin wanted to go to (okay, I asked politely, assuming they'd say NO. But, of course they said YES, which foiled all my plans!). Away we went to do "errands" (read: undercover Valentine's day shopping). When we go to the bookstore we reasoned that Collin's memory won't ever bring him back to 8 months, and so we took him right over to the book section and picked out what we wanted with him in Drew's lap. Turned out to be 'real special'. ha ha. But, he did get two fantastic books: Shell Silverstien's Where the Sidewalk Ends- at Drew's request (he loves these poems) and Snuggle Puppy for the Sandra Boynton fans. Okay, for me. I am the Sandra Boynton fan.
As a little bird walk, we also have the Snuggle Puppy song, on the Boynton CD Philadelphia Chickens. Its ADORABLE and Collin loves it. You can click HERE to hear the song.
Anyway, back to Valentine's Day. So Collin got his books and he loves books, as you can see when he reads them:

But he also got some surprise love from afar. Grandma and Papa Wackerle sent him a box filled with lots of love, including this puppy that barks, some cute clothes and a beach towel for our upcoming trip to Susie and Chris's in Vegas.

On our shopping adventure Drew made me aware of the fact that he hadn't bought me a card yet. I thoughts YIPEE! I'm not a total LOSER. So, I told him he'd have to make me a card. P.S.- I LURVE homemade cards. They are so freakin' adorable. All the while I was thinking: I still have nothing for you, and you're still in the car, so I can't exactly go shopping for you. Boo to that. So home we went.
Valentine's day came. Sunday morning was filled with Sunshine and I woke up to Drew, holding a cute cute CUTE baby saying "happy valentine's day", and you know what? That was totally enough. I was happy. When your hottie husband comes to your side of the bed holding your baby, both smiling like you're the best thing since sliced bread- you can't help but feel incredibly content. And I was.
Then came the cards. And boy were they cute:

Drew and Collin also gave me some Klean Kanteens because I, being the genius of our family, managed to explode my Sigg water bottle, so I needed something new. I love the Kanteens. They are perfect. At this point I told Drew he had to wait for his card and "gift" until dinner because it was LAME-O. So, he patiently waited. Thats right, I did get him a card- I'm not that LAME-O. We spent the day being a family, hanging out, reading books, snuggling, and it felt really good to be happy, content, and satisfied in life.

Once Collin went to bed we ordered in from a local place- we had agreed to this weeks before so that would wouldn't need a sitter and we could be comfy-cozy at home. I had a fantastic steak and Drew has a steak salad meal that was also de-licious. (With lots of DE). I gave him a cute card nestled between sugar- Dots candies and Sour Patch Kids, because nothing can woo my husband like sugar. Then we watched one of the funniest movies I've seen in awhile. It wasn't even listed on Netflix as a comedy, but we loved it! Have you seen it? Its called Away We Go. Maybe it was so funny because we know people just like the ones in the movie. But the absolute most funny part was this cute little skit:
I pretty much fall on the floor laughing every time we watch it. Its HIlarious. So, we thoroughly enjoyed the movie, we enjoyed each other and spent time being happy. Pretty darn happy actually. As it turns out a little bit of love goes a long way, and this year on Valentine's Day we didn't need anything but each other to feel our hearts collectively smile.
So happy Valentine's Day.
Spread the Love.
Fill your cup until it runeth over!

What to Expect...

I bet you all thought I was about to write "when you are expecting". ha ha. No such luck, dear reader. In fact, this post is about just the opposite.

If finding out we were pregnant with Collin we diligently went to the book store and bought the baby bible: What to Expect when you are Expecting. For those of you who have not read this book, it chronicles pregnancy week by week with all the intended milestones and possible ailments you can have during those 40 weeks. Its useful, until that is you pass about week 44 (4 weeks post partum), where it happily announces: "If you've somehow escaped post-partum depression, then HURRAY! Let the party begin!". Okay, so it doesn't really say that, but it might as well.

Then there is the book, What to Expect the First Year. You guessed it, a developmental guide to your child's growth and development.

What no one tells you pre-pregnancy is that there is a secret missing book that NO ONE has written. Its called "What to Expect Post-Pregnancy: The south of the border edition."


Seriously. 8.5 months after having a baby my body STILL hates me. Most particularly, its lead to recent surgery, which I will avoid sharing about because there has to be somewhere to draw the line on this blog. Consider it HERE.

Not too long ago I was at a little gathering, a few days after my surgery, with about 15 or so women, who kindly asked how I was recuperating. This was very nice of them, and I politely responded that I had some surgery in a nether region area and was doing well. I think almost ALL of the women who have had babies shook their heads with a knowing sigh and commented that they too might know exactly what I was going through... REALLY? There are that many of us? And nobody has written a book yet? Good Lord. My convenience sample, with a small n might be biased, but it sure got me thinking.

In the cheery world of parenting I realize I am supposed to look at my happy baby, smile, and think how it all was so worth it. Which I do. But it sure doesn't make me just forget about all of the side-effects. From skin problems, to south of the border issues, to dietary restrictions and weight, I've just about had my fill. This is the face I have for you, side effects. I bite my thumb at you...er, fist! (Shakespeare at his best).
I feel like I am finally regaining a little bit of ground, as I am no longer shedding like a Saint Bernard (thank you very much hormones), and my skin is starting not to resemble that of a 16 year old. Hello size 6 pants, thanks for making an appearance in my life again, your friends, sizes 8 and pregnancy size 10 have filled my closet. Where exactly should I put your posse of clothes friends now that you are back? Its likely you'll bring them out to play the next time we have a baby, so I'll be sure not to hand them off to the greater GoodWill. Please stay awhile, really.
Not to mention the permanent changes. Like, whose body is this? Because the shape sure isn't mine. I've never had this figure, and now, it appears here to stay. A whole new wardrobe was need because all of my shirts were too tight, and all of my pants didn't have the room for my hips- since I used to wear straight legs pants- since I used to not have any hips or butt. But, here they are. And they really aren't too bad, except for that they leave me broke because of that whole new wardrobe thing.
So, sorry for complaining, but somewhere out there, there is an author sitting on a very lucrative market for a book that tells you how to navigate all of this hoopla. I've already given you a title! I'd put my money on it selling like hotcakes. But until then, I'll illustrate my disgust with one of Collin's many faces. Here's to YOU ailments, issues and other nether region difficulties-

You've worn your welcome out and its time to go home.

Now you see it, now you don't.

For my family, who think that maybe Collin doesn't look so much like his dad. Maybe he looks like me?

Here are some of Collin's latest photos.

Can you see my two new little teeth?

And here I am, as a tiny little tike.

What do you think? More Drew or more me in our little guy?

8 months

Dear Collin,
Today you are two weeks past eight months old, and while I had every intention of updating our family blog on your 8 month birthday, time once again has slipped through my fingers like sand, the harder I try to hold onto it, the quicker it seems to pass.

Everyday, I wake up, somewhere half past 7:00 and halfway to groggy, with you by my side, waiting anxiously for our day to start. As you snuggle in closer to me, trying to nuzzle your head into the soft folds of my shirt I breath in your sweet scent. Another day in your amazing life is about to begin. Your smile shines like sunbeams as you let me know, in babbles and coos just what we should be doing. I rise, and shine, with you on my hip and we make our way back to your room, where you take aim on the box of diapers and feverishly try to kick them off the dresser before I can pick them up. You usually win. Your happiness is contagious, and I can't resist the urge to begin our morning with a huge smile on my face as you sputter ma ma ma, and ya ya ya, peppered with "hi"s and mmms. Your speech is fantastic- your intonation and emphasis on your "words" makes how quickly you are taking hold of the world so apparent. You are a perfect example of the pure genius of babies, their sponge-like absorption of all things, and when I say "all things" I really do mean all. You notice everything, and only a moment after noticing you make every attempt to place anything tactile in your mouth, and anything not in your mouth as well. It is fun for us to watch you try to bite your reflection when you are close to the mirror.

You love food. You would feast on fruits if you could, fresh pieces of mango seem to suit you well, as you'll gnaw on them for as long as we'll let you. You use a sippy cup all by yourself, and have shed your Nuk's, save for naptime, bedtime and when in your carseat. You've just gained enough fine motor control to put the puffs in your mouth. It took you only four tries to learn how to manipulate your fingers to get them in your mouth- this steep little learning curve was fantastic to watch as you learned quickly just how to get the sweet treat on your tongue.

Your sleeping patterns are both a blessing and a curse. We've sleep trained you, well, actually, daddy sleep-trained you, and continues to be the one that puts you to bed. I worry that soon I will have to do it alone and you'll be so unfamiliar with me at bedtime that you won't go to sleep, but I let it go because watching you have such a fantastic time to bond with your daddy makes my heart swell with happiness. You take fantastic naps and go to bed a 7 pm, but you are up with daddy at 5:00 a.m. He quickly changes your diaper and places you in bed with me, where you smile so immensely, as if you had no idea I would be there, as I am every other day. You nurse and then fall back asleep, cuddled next to me for a brief hour or so, and this quite possibly, is my favorite part of day, as I get to watch you in all of your sweet innocence as you sleep so peacefully.

While you are awake you are on the move. Rolling everywhere, grabbing everything, but still refusing to crawl. I think you are channeling my stubbornness. Its true that it won't be long now though, as you are so anxious to get out of our arms and explore when we hold you. I can almost see the wheels turning as you think about how to get your hands on items, how to get close enough to grab something, or how to make your way around the carpet, off the pillow, over the blankets...

Your daddy and I are relaxing in our parenting strategies, we aren't like a family of Lions any longer, fiercely roaring at anyone who has not taken the proper precautions in your presence. Have you washed your hands? Is it organic? There isn't any sugar in that is there? Are you warm enough? Beware of over-stimulation, beware of being too quiet, beware of not talking to you enough, beware of every single developmental conundrum that any parent may experience and PREVENT it. Up until most recently we were in that place, protecting you with the mightiest roar from everyone who came within a few feet of you, even those with the very best intentions. We stalked predators: germs, sugar, pesticides, toxins, thalates...you name it, we likely prevented you from experiencing it. All in the name of keeping you safe. Its hard to understand the love a parent has for a child until you are a parent, but part of that love is knowing that you'll do ANYTHING to keep him safe. Really, we were in it for the extreme measure.

It seems though, at 8 months, your mischevious sense is leading us in a new direction that is more about letting you explore and less about protecting you from the world. You've made it this far as such a bright, inquisitive and happy little boy, we feel as though we're ready to let you start making your own way in the world. I've enrolled us in some ECFE classes to see the rest of the 8-12 month old world, and we've compromised making every single one of your meals for time with you, and GASP, we aren't fixating on every single ingredient in the jars of babyfood we do feed you (turns out calcium carbonate isn't bad for you)- although they are still all organic (we haven't given up our tendencies in haste).

Your inqusitiveness is amazing, you are interested in EVERYTHING. But mostly, your explorations leads you to determining just how things taste and fit in your mouth.

You love your puppy in a way that is both endearing, as you pat his belly, or cuddle into his fur, and hillarious, as you both find ways to play with each other. You crack up, hysterically, when Samson gooses you in your side and pushes you are in a circle with his nose. Its amazing to see how gentle he is with you (usually) and how he knows just the right amout of play to get your little laugh rolling.

You have two teeth now, YES 2! and you're becoming such a big boy that it breaks my heart to see you grow. Everyday I find myself pleading for you to slow down, to stay a baby. To wait just a little longer before you reach such big-boy proportions and gallop into toddlerhood on two feet.

At 8 months you've said "mama" and "dada" and in those moments my heart lept, nearly out of my body. Its incredible to hear your voice ask for us, want us, know that we are here. You're learning everyday, and we're enjoying watching every connection you make.

Its true that you are, simply put, amazing. Its amazing to see you smile, to see everyday how lucky we've been in life, how you are becoming someone with a voice, an independent effort to take your own path, an anxious and frustrated, excited and angry, happy and tired little boy- filled with emotions that share with us a glimpse of your reality- the richness of your daily life in the most basic daily occurrences. There you are, smiling, absorbing, continuing to grow. I can barely stand it. So cute, so inspiring, so filled with pure LOVE.

Bust mostly, you are 8 months. 8 months of life. 8 months of our lives we can't imagine not having. 8 months, 8 steps into our forever as a family. 8 months of sleepless nights, 8 months of anxious efforts to protect you, 8 months of love, 8 months of dreams of your future, 8 months of milestones, 8 months of learning with you how to be parents, how to guide you and how to soothe you. 8 months of shared book reading, 8 months of lullabyes, 8 months of dirty diapers. 8 months, of fantastic, amazing and wonderful you.

We love you, more than we ever thought we could.
Mommy & Daddy

Like Father Like Son

Drew as a baby:

Chunky Monkey

Collin

I'm just sayin'.

Maybe they're related.

Like father, like son.

Once Bitten Twice Shy...

Bitten.
Vampire Style.
They said it would happen, and silly me, I thought maybe I had missed the window of opportunity. Collin has two teeth (read razors) now, and so far, he's been pretty laid back about them when nursing. I wasn't even worried about him biting me, because this little boy is usually all business. Milk, milk, more milk, like its going out of style. So, today, when he was goofing around I just figured he was distracted. But boy, oh boy, was I wrong. A moment of disregard and BAM, he bites me. HARD. Holy SHIT. Intense pain. And, of course, what is my reaction- even though I know, I've learned time and time again what NOT to do, but in the moment of surprise, I did it. I pulled back! and then, 1 second later, when I realized what happened I started laughing. Can you believe me?!? Seriously, I laughed. Ridiculous. And, guess what our little guy did? He laughed back. Behavior management at its best. This behavior analyst just reinforced the shit out of biting.

Who am I? Where have all by ABA skills gone? Why can't I manage to consider any ounce of my own training when I am with my own child.

As it turns out, I think the lyricist who wrote Once Bitten Twice Shy really new about this whole scenario. Take for example the first verse. If you change "girl", to in our case "boy" it pretty much suits the story.

Well the times are getting hard for you little girl(boy)
I'm a hummin' and a strummin' all over God's world
You can't remember when you got your last meal
And you don't know just how a woman feels

So here's the interpretation (line for line)

I've cut you off from my milk supply, so it sucks for you,
I'm yelling and screaming because you bit me,
I'm thinking about never nursing you again,
It hurts, ridiculously!

(Ok, so not really- but you see the similarities, no?)

So even though he's so stinkin' cute, as evidenced by these new photos, he's a Vampire, seeking blood.

I swear.

Barely there....

It seems as though every time I log on to do some blogging I find myself wondering how I've missed so many "crucial" posts about Collin. The thing is though, they aren't really "crucial". I mean, sure, its nice to share things about Collin's life, but the posts are a bit superficial, right? I mean, do you, dear reader, feel as though you have any idea whats going on in our lives outside of what you see in the glimpses through Collin's photos?

So just as a warning, this post is rather personal. Its not about Collin. Its about me. I'd even wager to say its intense. If you are looking for Collin, check back next week. Consider yourself warned, dear reader.

These past months have been difficult for me personally, and in some ways for our family as a result of the stresses in our lives. The new year is here, and there are so many things I've resolved to do, but one is to actually do some meaningful blogging. I mean, this blog has turned into something of a poster-board for Collin's photos, and while that is all fine and dandy, its not exactly what I thought it would be. I want the posts to be meaningful. I want to be able to look back and get a sense of quality in the posts, rather than quantity.

So here I am, making my first attempt to reconnect with the world via blogging, in a meaningful, albeit, late, manner.

December was what I refer to as a shitstorm. No joke. Actual shitstorm. That's saying something, I suppose, since Christmas, the happiest holiday of the year, was like the eye of my hurricane. In a two week period I managed to reach bipolar-like heights. Christmas day was actually fantastic, I loved watch Collin's eyes light up at the interactions with wrapping paper. The gifts might as well have been wrapped in hundred dollar bills. His little arms and legs would stretch out and stiffen because he couldn't contain his excitement. I mean really, when was the last time you were so excited your body went rigid? Babies are fantastic like that, they remind us how the simplest things can bring pure joy. I had no idea at the time, but I sure needed that reminder time and again over the next few weeks.

But the lows were extreme too. While we were in Michigan, four days after Christmas, my grandmother passed away after a long struggle against dementia. I say against, because it really was a fight. The kind where you put on your gloves, but find yourself out of your weight-class, nearly blind-sighted. Almost like a boxing match. Continual blows until she was finally down for the count. The disease continually robbed her of her independence, charisma and enthusiasm, which made it tremendously arduous, painful, and at the same time relieving to face her death. Her suffering was over, but I found myself asking why she suffered in such a troublesome way? In retrospect, her passing has been much more difficult for me than I thought it would be. I thought I could accept her death as a peaceful passing, allowing her to make her way to Heaven, but this hasn't been my path. I do imagine her in a peaceful place, but I also find myself conflicted about why such suffering had to preempt her peace. Reconciling who she became at the time of her death, in comparison to who I knew her to be placed me smack dab in front of mortality. Hello Death. How are you? Why are you so awful?

Recently there have been some findings in the science of Alzheimer's that leave a tiny glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel, but at the same time terrorize me. This article: Spotting Dementia 20 years in advance, offers a brief test to determine if you'll(**possibly**) have dementia 20 years in advance. Its sort of like napalm to me. I don't even want to open the link. Honestly. To get the url I quickly copied the link and tried not to read any of it. Do I really want to know if I too will face such a gut-wrenching demise? No way. At least not today. Maybe someday I will, but the knowledge of knowing would likely sink me into a serious funk-- to add to the hot mess that my life is right now.

After her passing we adjusted our lives as best we knew how and kept on. But you can't shed tragedy like clothing. It seeps in. It hangs on to you. So while you keep on trying to adjust, you end up finding yourself lost all over again.

We left Michigan in the face of a tremendous snow storm, arrived in Milwaukee exhausted. Emotionally numb and physically drained. Once we made it back to St Paul more re-arranging of life began. In 24 hours though, we were faced with illness ( cold and flu-ish for both Drew and Collin), our Jeep took a dump, and just as I thought the shitstorm was subsiding (with only a small, but manageable sprinkling of shit), one week later my dad had a stroke, a Transient Ischemic Attack (TIA), which are sometimes referred to as mini strokes. I felt like this was Death once again reminding me of the reality of mortality. Really Death, must you sleep right next to my heart?

So, more adjusting, more trying to stay afloat. Four days later I had surgery to repair some issues that I've had since having the baby. Surgery is exhausting. I'm glad I'm repaired, but I think the culmination of events finally hit me in head-on collision fashion. If only humans had personal air-bags to protect us.

Along the way I've been forced to reflect on my life-- on who I am within my family, on who I see myself to be, where my aspirations lie, regarding what I'm happy with, and what I hope to change.

Oddly enough, before all of this happened, say November, I really was in a place with limited faith. We hadn't really been going to church at all, and I really wasn't missing it. I felt guilty about challenging faith, about the idea of God, almost as though he was going to come down and say "you don't believe?!? That's it. There's no coming back. See you later."
I spend a lot of time steeped in Science and was troubled time and time again with the merging of faith based beliefs about creation and afterlife and what science might suggest. I like data. I like hard evidence. I wasn't sold on the God or afterlife thing.

But (and this is a BIG But), the problem was, I wanted to. I willed myself to have a better belief system. I tried to convince myself that I should head back to my spiritual roots. But doubt kept sneaking in. Again and again. (Looking back I honestly feel like the rest of this story has a little bit of divine intervention.). So I did what I thought might open the door for me. I prayed. I prayed for help in finding a path back to faith. Lots of praying. And then somehow, I came to this sense of calm about my doubts. I started to believe that it was okay to doubt my faith if I was active in reconciling those doubts. My first time back to church in awhile was Christmas Eve. I felt like the homily was directed right to me. The homily spoke of having beliefs in the influence of Christianity and supporting (my) faith through following the Bible's teachings. From there we went to mass every weekend and every weekend I've found a piece of the homily that speaks directly to me. Indirectly, I think my grandmother's death has helped me find my faith. These interactions give me a lot of hope for my faith as I try to navigate this new phase of my life. I admit I still have lots of questions. I still have lots of doubts, but I'm making progress, which is all I suppose I can ask for right now. One of my resolutions was to read the Bible, because, gasp, I never have. I've never read it cover to cover. I just finished Genesis last night, and let me tell you, right now, the story seems in all meanings of the word unbelievable. But I'm trying, and I hope God appreciates my efforts.

Through all of this, I've also learned a few things about myself. I've noticed that the lens my family sees me through, (which is accurate from their perspective) is unfortunate. They've learned to view me as a myriad of things (including lots of good things), but surprisingly(to me), they see me as fierce, almost harsh, resistant to listen and quick to react. This breaks my heart a little bit, because I feel like they've been left with the defense I built in high-school and don't have a sense of what my personality entails now. I wish they could see that I spend more time listening than reacting. I wish they could see how much my fierceness is about protecting them, I wish they could see how much I worry about their lives, about their health. I'll be spending more time being nicer, approaching topics more gently and trying to show them who I am now is not who I might have been at 18. I hear you. I hear every word of advice you offer. I listen. I may not acknowledge it very well, but I do, I promise.

I've learned a lot about Drew, about how he handles tragedy, how he faces my personal pain. Its been a learning experience for me, with many struggles, as when you are in tremendous pain, its difficult to explain how you particularly need to be loved in those times.

I've thought lots about the future and those thoughts have turned into more resolutions, but I hope that instead of being the kind that are placed and forgotten, that they become pillars of my life.

So, as it turns out, I'm going to be fine. I'm blessed in many ways, and all of the tragedies I've faced have made me a better person. I'm thankful for that.

I've resolved to spend more time with my family who live in Michigan. Because our time on this earth is limited and I truly want them to see me as a better person than they do now.
I've resolved to work, diligently, on my faith.
I've resolved to appreciate my husband more.
and finally, I've resolved to love larger. Because our love for others mirrors the condition of our own heart (John 2:9-11).

So in some ways I feel like I'm barely here, again readjusting. But that seems to be the theme for my life as of late, so I suppose I've got to take the bitter with the sweet and keep on.