Bye Bye Baby

Everyday this rambunctious little boy who is full of

throwing blocks, giggling & dancing like a wild chicken slowly waddles up to me. He tugs on my shirt and we sit on the floor. I marvel at the fact that he loves me, trusts me, enough to just be. Today I felt like Scout woke up from his nap a true toddler . Reading a book waiting for me to come in. Sure he has been toddling around for months, but

I think it was that he was so intent on his book that when he looked up that sealed the deal. There goes Baby Scout.

Full Blown Toddler : ( h in you.

The trusting casual way a tiny hand, slipped into a larger one -cracked and worn – cam even the iciest of hearts.

Children are our miracles we are blessed with every day.There’s something about the love of a child. Something in the way that eyes light up, when Daddy enters a room. In soft peaceful breath on Mummy’s breast when drifting off to dreamland. Words unspoken that whisper their faith in you.

The trusting casual way a tiny hand, slipped into a larger one -cracked and worn – can melt away the years of worry and warm even the iciest of hearts.

Children are our miracles we are blessed with every

I'm 30 years old and have a child, yet somehow "mom" seems like a bit of a foreign concept to me.i mean, i do mom. sometimes i even do mom pretty well, but i honestly forget that i have to be so grown up sometimes.
i remember so freshly some of the things about my mom that i'm beginning to see our Scout remembering.
i remember how young & pretty she was when she'd pick me up from her 5 hours off a week when I was at MDO . i remember how she never yelled. not once. i remember a scene at the grocery store that i basically just had with Scout.it involved almost swatting him for screaming when i took the bleach out of his hand.[and how it sometimes catches you off guard.]i remember her filling up an inflatabl pool in the summer & sunbathing in it.i remember how i spoke to her was breaking her heart, but she was the person who i could trust would always love me anyway.i'm so very thankful for the chance to be mom to Scout/ i'm so thankful that he gets to have my mom Grandma Vicki.it is a surprisingly wonderful feeling to have a part of your heartwalking around separate from you.i pray i can do this amazing little man justice.that he knows... how loved he is.how treasured he is.how he has a great plan that he was made forin His image.

Sorry I’ve been mostly MIA from the blog for a bit. A friend has visited, We went to Florida and Scout is a busy body all of a sudden and I feel I am always off trying to entertain him (which is kind of an exhausting task, I won’t lie).

So, last night I went to the gym. Nothing groundbreaking there. However, I had several thoughts as I ran in place on a moving conveyor belt. Here are some of them.

• Do other people experience this? It seems like every time I go to the gym, there are a couple of people who are always there. It seems impossible that we have the same exact schedule. These people are ALWAYS at the gym!! One of them is the cutest old man who comes to the Zumba class I do. I love that he’s not embarrassed to go to an overwhelmingly female class. There is another woman who is about 45-50 I’d guess, tanned to the max, definitely has breast implants, and always wears full makeup and has her hair done. She also always wears the same outfit.
• There is a woman who I see running on the treadmill almost every time I go. She is a beast. Not in the physical sense, she’s a small woman, but holy shit. She runs around a 7:20 minute mile. That is fast!!! What kills me though is her running posture. She runs with her arms bent at her sides like a velociraptor. I made fun of her in my head at first until I realized she ran 6 miles in like 43 minutes and was kicking my ass on the treadmill.I particularly enjoyed last night looking over and seeing a guy going to town on a climbing machine. The machine is right next to a mirrored wall and he was watching himself with such pride. He was staring at himself and smiling. I loved it. Then he caught me looking at him and that was an awkward moment.
• I like when someone gets on the treadmill around the same time as me and starts running. It sounds weird perhaps but it gives me motivation. If I’m struggling but they’re still next to me running, I don’t want to quit. It’s like they’re pushing me to keep going. Last night the guy next to me got off and I still had another mile to go!! Asshole. (Just kidding).

Sunday, the guy I dated 5 years got married. I’ve been thinking about it and how I feel about it. I’m not sad. I’m….incredulous? Confused, perhaps? I am married and happy, for the most part :) Long ago I wrote about letting go of the hurt and just wishing him well. I still feel those things. I guess I am just kind of mad that we never had a conversation about the way it ended when it really finally did end. He could’ve gone out not looking like such an asshole but he didn’t. It should’ve been over when he told me about the other girl he had "coffee" with (who, no, is not the girl he married today). However, he kept texting and calling and confusing me. I almost missed out on marrying my current husband because of this clown. I was delusional for awhile and thought somehow it was going to work out. I think if I had been strong enough, it would’ve been best to cut him out completely, but I didn’t feel like I could. It took him moving to Texas trying to work "us" out. They got married Sunday evening and he already changed it on facebook. That’s the world we live in, I guess. In a way, I’m glad this happened. It closes a chapter for me forever. I can look back at what we had as a complete and finished memory. We won’t be making any more together.

I’m really going to try to resolve to focus on myself. That sounds cliche, perhaps, but I think for the best. There is a lot I want to accomplish. I want to continue to make my life fuller. I want to keep making Scout and Roger happy and happier. I want to meet people and make more REAL friend. I want to keep working to find contentment in the present. Sometimes I think I just get lonely or maybe bored. Such is life.

This may be the most boring post I’ve ever written. Sorry dudes. I have something I’m thinking about writing later. Maybe it’ll be a little more riveting.

We've done it! We've all survived our first year together.

Today is my son's first birthday and it's been quite a year. This may sound like a cliche, but it really is amazing how much a little person develops over the course of a year. When i look back at his birth photos I can hardly believe that it's the same kid here have now. He hasn't been out of my sight so I am pretty sure he is mine! I never imagined loving someone more than my dog Alot, but I do. Alto will forever be in my heart but Scout has formed this amazing new "area" in me...

Lessons I have learned from Scout

Playing is work. Approach your downtime with all the seriousness us girls use when selecting the perfect show!~ Those little people make us mad when they wont fly that plane :)

Seeing a thunderstorm roll in is better than watching Wonder Pets. And rain isn't something to cry about but enjoy!

Sometimes it's best to be completely blunt with people, as you used to be with relatives who wanted you to hug or kiss them even thought they had forgot to visit you for the past 6 months!

Treasure Island, Dracula: The best books are consumed after dark with a flashlight. thanks DADA, he decided this was important

Asking is how you figure things out. Lots and lots of questions.
Love. Love everyone and everything like you love Molly and Momma :)

parents

Growing up I had a mental file going where I would regularly store away pieces of information for later in life when I would surely need it.
I titled this file
“Ways I won’t be like my mother”
And when I was ten I filed things away like
“I will never make my kids make their bed”
and
“if my kid wants to have her whole class over for a sleepover, I will let him. And I’ll even order pizza”
And when I was in junior high I added to it
“I will buy my kid expensive name brand clothes because if she is popular they will be happy”
and
“13 is not too young for a boyfriend”

And in highschool
“If she wants to pierce her naval why should I stand in the way of personal expression”
and
“It is way too embarrassing to call my childs friends and ask if their parents will be home. I will just trust her/him.”
And in college
“Cs aren’t so bad. At least it is passing.”
and
“Padre is the perfect location for Spring Break”
And then I got married.
And I still filed away a few thoughts.
“like he can get his own damn beer”
and
“my husband better not talk to me like that and hopefully he can get his clothes to a washing machine”
But a few good ones slipped in too!
my mom has an amazing heart and my dad is an amazing listener and advice "giver."
And so occasionally I would call and ask them something simple like
What my mom puts in her potato salad.
What my dad thinks about the latest political uproar.
and a new mental file started to form.
“Things my parent knows that I don’t”
And I had to start cleaning out the old file a bit…because maybe a 13 year old doesn’t need $150.00 jeans or to be trusted completely.
And then I became a mother.
And I realized that I had an awful lot to learn.
And how glad I am that I have 2 very special someones to ask
when I want to know how to handle a situation without overreacting
or when I need someone to listen to me go on and on about what Scout did today.
or how to get my cholesterol down
or how to disagree without hurting someone who has a different opinion.

Basically how to handle the BIG stuff.

Let’s just say that the second file has grown a lot fatter than the first.

Friends fighting?

Recently I had a friend disappoint me.
I didn’t tell them.
And I didn’t write about it when it happened.
Instead I seethed a little and got angrier and slightly resentful and finally dumped it on my husband.
(who had some great advice that will come later)
And. I have hesitated to write this piece because a lot of my real life friends read this.
Maybe even the one I’m writing about. Maybe not. Actually I’m not really sure.
And to be honest the best pace to work this out would be with them.
Just them.
And not on line.
But.
It’s not really about them. It’s more about me. And I don’t think there is so much to work out anyways.
So, if you are my real life friend and are reading this and wondering, hesitantly or fearfully if this is about you.
It might be.
But it probably isn’t.
And again. Even if it is. It’s not REALLY about you.
And if it isn’t. It could be. If we have been friends for more than five minutes, we have probably had a moment like this.
So, back to me venting to my husband.
I forced him to listen to my girl woes and what I thought were very valid complaints.
To which he said,
“So. Why are you mad? That is what I'd expect. Some of it is what I would do. Why are you expecting something else.”
And I got a little frustrated because really I was just hoping he would agree. Be on my team and tell me how right I was rather than speaking some truth.
And he was right.
And I had a hard time swallowing it.
And sure, I have friends that I love even though they are always late or have a short temper or are high strung, or are more conservative, or are more liberal or occasionally flighty. And it doesn’t bother me. It is just part of who they are and who I love.
And they manage to love me despite of
My insensitive. my constant interruptions. my obnoxious. my rantings. my strong opinions. my lack of strong opinions. my habit of eating off their plate, my loose lips…..and probably a hundred other more things. Really, I totally get the good end of the deal.

And I’m sure I’ve hurt feelings or said dumb things or dominated conversations that I shouldn’t have. And occasionally I have even apologized for it.
But mostly I haven’t. And they are my friend anyways.
And so my friend didn’t really disappoint me.
Or hurt my feelings.
Instead. Some girl I made up did.
My friend was still there. Doing all the things that I love about her.
And I decided that maybe my expectations. The false ones I made up.
Should go

The Sunrise

I don't think I have every really seen one. On purpose at least. Maybe some glipses on the way to work or heading in from a late night, but I have never just gotten out of bed early for the pure intent on watching the sun rise. It is worth it I hear, and I felt like there would be no better place to witness one than my last morning in Mexico. I had this romanticized picture of me and Roger with a cup of coffee, talking to God and snapping the kind of photos that belonged on the front of a postcard.
So I got up at 5:30. a.m. Without the help of an alarm clock or a screaming Scout. I just woke up. I attempted breifly to go back to sleep, but then felt an urging to get out of bed and make my way down to the beach. This was going to be that moment.
I told Rog where I was going so he wouldn't worry and before he rolled over and went back to sleep he warned me that the sun rose on the side of the hotel......not the beach and that I probably wouldn't be able to see much. I said I wanted to watch it anyways. I figured it would still be beautiful and amazing through the palm trees instead of over the ocean. I just knew that God had nudged me out of bed and had something beautiful and special to show me.
So me and my trusty camera headed to the beach and I waited for God to start the show.
And I waited. Until it really wasn't dark anymore.
There were no pinks or oranges in the sky. Things just eventually got brighter. The sky actually looked kind of gray and dreary. This was not the kind of sunrise I had envisioned. Surely, the sun was going to sneak over the trees any second now and take my breath away.
Someone started to set out the coffee and someone else started to rake the sand. Morning had come without the kind of magical display I had hoped for.
The sky did not turn any brilliant shades. I did not snap any pictures.
As the darkness disapeared I couldn't help but be a little bit disappointed and wonder that maybe I should have just stayed in bed.
So I sat there on my rock on a white sandy beach with crystal clear water crashing at my feet and birds chirping and wondered why God had so clearly pulled me out of bed to see a nothing special sun rise.
And then the irony hit me.
Like a giant wave and took my breath away.
I was sitting in the middle of paradise, looking, unsuccessfully for God's beauty.
When all along I had been sitting smack dab in the middle of it.
God woke me up, not to show me a beautiful sun rise but to show me what was already there. To see the beauty in that. Not to miss the pink petals, or the turquoise water, or the shells growing heavy in my pockets.
That sometimes I am in the middle of paradise and missing the absoulte beauty that surrounds me. And not just on the beach but...
At home on the floor playing with my Scout
Or on the patio
Or at dinner with a friend.
And that I need to open up my eyes and soak all that in, rather than looking out on the horizon for more.