Milestone

A lot of parents think I'm absolutely crazy because of what I'm about to say, but...I'm fine with my kid sleeping in my bed.  Oliver has always slept in my bed.  When he was tiny, he had a little sleep positioner and I'd take him out to feed him a few times a night.  It was just the easiest way for both of us to get the most sleep every night.  My kid never cried in the middle of the night, and I was well-rested.  Eventually he outgrew the positioner, but stayed in my bed.  I figured I'd move him to his own bed when he weened, but he was nearly 3 then.  So, I decided I'd transition him at 3.  That didn't happen... he just got upset whenever we talked about sleeping in his own room.  Until last night, he slept in my bed.

The night before last he went to bed in his room, and stayed there until almost 3AM.  It was a big step, and I think I had more trouble sleeping than he did.  Had he not woken up and not been able to get back to sleep, he would have been fine in there all night.  Last night he went to bed in his room, after telling me that he hates his room and will not sleep in it... and I woke up at 12:30 and 4 and checked on him.  He was fine.  He came into my room just before 7 and told me he was done sleeping.

But...he crawled in bed with me and cuddled.  It was so sweet :)  I can't think of a better way to start a day. So he's achieved a milestone...moved on to his own room...and mom still gets cuddles.  I think I can deal with this.

I am going to have to get him a bigger bed, though.

Bittersweet Birthday

I went into labor at around 5:30PM on March 25, 2009.  I was watching the Simpsons and folding laundry.  No big deal.  Contractions 5 to 7 minutes apart.  I didn't figure that it'd take more than 10 or 12 hours.  I could manage.

I remember the drive to the hospital very clearly.  It was the 27th of March, 2009, and it felt like I'd been in labor for an eternity.  This wasn't a trip to labor and delivery, though; I was just going in for my weekly check-up hoping I'd progressed enough to be admitted.  The early afternoon sun shone through the windows, making me uncomfortably hot even with the AC on.  The radio played Michael Franti and Spearhead - Say Hey. The drive down Campbell was punctuated by contractions.

The walk into the hospital was slow...stopping occasionally for contractions.  There was a contraction in the elevator, another while signing in, and a couple while waiting.  At least all that contracting got me admitted.  It only took another day to finally get the boy out.

At 12:33PM on Saturday, March 28, 2009, I had my son.  Believe it or not, this is the first time I've done the math.  67 hours.  I've always said around 72, so I guess I should cut the kid some slack, right?  He looked a lot like Beldar Conehead at first, thanks to the suction cup.  Thankfully that wasn't permanent.  He was 8lbs 3ozs and 20 inches...10 fingers, 10 toes, chubby cheeks and blonde hair.  He was an absolutely perfect little human. :)

The first year passed much too quickly.  He was talking at 7 months - his first word was cat, his second was boob.  Not long after, he took his first steps in grandma's classroom.  He hasn't stopped moving since.  I cried when he turned one.

The aging stuff just doesn't stop.  I feel myself getting older, but it's not as shocking as the speed at which my son ages.  There should be a pause button.  There should be some way to slow down the first years....they're so full of wonder.  Even having been there for everything, I feel that I must have missed things.  Before I knew it, my little boy was not so little anymore.  He was doing things for himself, speaking in complete sentences, and forming opinions of his own.  And then he was two, and I cried again.

The journey to three cleaned up some of his language that'd previously been both hilarious and potentially embarrassing.  Long before turning three, he started saying bike instead of cock, and firetruck replaced firefuck.  He got his first haircut.  He went to a babysitter.  He held a baby chick.  He traveled to KS in a car to meet family.  He started liking movies (Puss in Boots was his favorite for a while).  He got taller, he got more outspoken, and he stayed cuddly and sweet.  And then he was three.  I cried.

Three was a year full of learning.  He mastered the potty, which was a milestone that made me happy.  No more diapers!  He started learning his letters and numbers, figured out how to use the computer by himself, and he started school.  He also began developing empathy - crying during sad parts of movies (Brave and Frankenweenie).  It broke my heart a little to see him so upset, but I also felt proud of him for his caring heart.  He's content to play outside all day.  A movie day works just as well.  Hulk is his favorite hero, and The Avengers is his favorite movie.  I really think both two and three deserve some extra time.  So much is going on...it seems unfair to rush.

Last night I cuddled my 3-year-old for the last time.  I gave him kisses and told him I love him, and felt unbelievably sad.  He really isn't a baby anymore.  As awesome as all his growing and developing is, and as much as I love the little boy he is, I can't help but miss the baby he was...and I can't help wanting time to slow down.

Today he's four, and I've only cried a little.

He's at school...having cupcakes and strawberries.  He'll go to his dad's for a bit after school, and when he comes home he'll have pizza, cake, and ice cream before opening the last of his presents.  My son is four.

I really want this to slow down.

Singles Day

While a good percentage of the population is currently enjoying a nice romantic dinner, I'm sitting here watching The Vampire Diaries with a freshly bathed kid on my lap.  He likes to watch me type :)

In my adult life, I've been single on Valentine's day more often than not...and generally, it's fine by me.  I think it was sometime last night, while I was thinking through my plans for today, that I realized there'll come a time in my life when I'll probably need to start dating.  I sort of decided that the time will come sometime between now and whenever Oliver would be embarrassed to call his mom his Valentine.  Not sure when that'll be... but I'm unprepared.

Despite limited experience, I'm pretty sure that the kid is the best Valentine ever.  :)

The Origin of Aphrodite

Most people have heard that Aphrodite was made from sea foam.  In fact, her name means "from the foam."  Honestly, until last week I had no idea where she came from, nor did I care.  Considering that this week is Valentine's Day and love is (hypothetically) in the air, I can't help but think a little bit about the Goddess of Love.

Origin stories are a lot of fun.  If you know where a person comes from, you have an idea of how she got where she is now.  Where you come from is important.  It also seemed at least a little important to the Greek Gods.  Of course there are numerous versions of these stories, as there are with all deities.  I'm taking my first ever mythology class right now and it's interesting, but I'm genuinely grossed out on a regular basis.  God behavior is so barbaric (though I suppose not much has changed, really...but I won't go there...now).  Let's just say that their parenting skills were sub-par and leave it at that.  Last week I was reading creation stories...the ultimate in origin stories, because they discuss the origin of everything.  I found Hesiod's origin stories the most interesting.

In the beginning, we had Gaia and Uranus...Earth and Sky.  They hooked up, possibly because there wasn't anyone else around, and started making beings.  All was good and fine for a while, but...eventually Gaia got tired of childbearing.  I mean, she was literally carrying these kids around...inside her.  So, she complained.  Eventually her youngest son, Cronus, felt bad enough to help her out.  Mother and son conspired to...make sure there wouldn't be any more kids.  Cronus castrated his father and threw his severed member into the sea.

That wasn't the end for the severed member, though.  When it landed in the sea, foam rose.  From that foam came Aphrodite.  How's that for the origin of the Goddess of Love???

Happy Valentine's Day...a little early.  

Missing...

Do you ever miss people that you don't think you have the right to miss?  I know that seems weird... like, who or what could give that right or take it away?  But, that's what I'm feeling today.  It's not a great feeling, because without any right to claim a feeling one way or the other about a particular individual, there's nothing I can do about it.  I can't call or text or write a letter that says, simply, "I miss you."  There were two people in my dreams last night that I haven't spoken to in a while.  I swear my subconscious likes to plague me with missing and longing randomly.  If I've been too happy or too detached (which is a pleasant state for me), it'll just show me something I want but can't have (see previous entry), or something I no longer have.

And, while I know this won't bring me any real peace, it's the most I can do for now.

Person 1 - I miss the way things were.  Those days are gone...and it's for the best for both of us.  That doesn't mean that I don't think of you sometimes... and it doesn't mean that I don't miss you.

Person 2 - I just miss you.

La Douleur Exquise

This is a quality that I seek when reading or watching TV or movies.  I want to feel that pain right along with the characters.  It's got to hurt... and the reasoning can't be something stupid or simple.  There needs to be a real issue (object of affection is dating your brother/best friend... object of affection is a blue and you're a red... object of affection is an alien or other supernatural being...).  It's always a 'hurts so good' kind of thing when experiencing this through the eyes of a character.

But... it isn't any fun at all in real life.  Trust me, I know.

The reasons for the differences are the rules of the story.  When you're watching or reading something, you know there are rules.  Writers follow the rules, because the person watching/reading the story has expectations.  If you don't live up to those expectations, you won't make it; your story will fail just moments before your career.  Fizzle...pop.  The expectation is simple: no pain, no gain.  The moment when they do kiss will be so perfect that ever bit of pain will have been worth it...But, the longer they draw it out, the better.  If they're still not madly in love AND together by the end of book 2 or the second season, you're in for the best finale ever.  I'm a fan of 'romantic tension' and will actually stop reading/watching if the relationships are too easy.

But... there are no such rules in real life.  We're all raised on stories and there is no real life equivalent.  When we're writing our lives, and the object of our affection is unattainable, no amount of suffering ensures a payoff in the end.  Even if the longing is deep, the moments you spend with your unattainable person charged with electricity, and the possibilities seemingly endless... in real life, unattainable is a much more final state.  Even if the reasons are stupid and petty, as they often are.  There is really very little to look forward to in real cases of unrequited love...or even just the unrequited crush.  :|  What I wouldn't give for a bit of the supernatural getting in the way...

"Oh, you're a werewolf?  I completely understand."  I'm calling to see if I can have you committed...

"Our families have been mortal enemies since the beginning of time...and something about dragons?  Okay, I get it."  Even though that might make you more attractive to me...except for that thing about dragons....

But what are the real reasons that average people face?  I don't care for that hairstyle... You aren't very tall...  we have different taste in music... are you really going to wear that?  I don't like your dog.  Your job isn't impressive.  You have debt and you aren't rich.

No spark.

No need.

I'm not sure unrequited would be any less painful if there were werewolves or aliens or multi-generational feuds involved...I'm not even saying that it'd have that kind of awesome tension that exists in fiction... but I am saying it'd be more interesting.  This is why I like fiction so much.

And also why I find real life so insufferably boring sometimes.

100 Things That Make Me Happy! ....Plus.

1.  My kid, of course.  He's hilarious and sweet...and he's the perfect kid for me :)

From here on, the order is random.

2.  Coffee...preferably a good latte.
3.  An extra 5 or 10 minutes in a warm bed on a cold morning.
4.  Fresh strawberries.
5.  Fun socks.
6.  Coloring...with or without the kid.
7.  My Vibram FiveFinger shoes.
8.  Fresh-from-the-dryer blankets.
9.  Hoodies.
10.  Pasta...multi-colored pasta.
11.  Potatoes.
12.  My Kindle.
13.  The entire contents of my Kindle, and every book that I will ever add in the future.
14.  Book hangover.
15.  A shared moment of understanding.
16.  Seeing someone I haven't seen in a while.
17.  Freshly-bathed kid scent.
18.  Zombie slippers.
19.  Smoothies.
20.  Warm sunny days in the middle of winter.
21.  Monsoons.
22.  Fourth of July...for the fireworks!
23.  Halloween.
24.  Parades.
25.  Vivid dreams... the kind that stick with me all day.
26.  A text from the right person at the right time.
27.  Hand-written notes.
28.  Butterflies...preferably the kind in my stomach, though I'm not opposed to the flying kind.
29.  Atheist groups.
30.  Snowy mountains in the distance.
31.  The sounds newborns make.
32.  Cute baby animals.
33.  Fresh baked bread.
34.  Homemade pizza/soups/anything.
35.  Cupcakes.
36.  Cookies.
37.  Unexpected allies.
38.  Smart people.
39.  Good conversation.
40.  Learning something.
41.  Colorful things.
42.  Happy people.
43.  Natural building.
44.  Architecture/design.
45.  Goodreads.
46.  Taking walks.
47.  Nature.
48.  Sudafed...related: breathing.
49.  Laughter...anyone's will do.
50.  People watching.
51.  When my son comes home.
52.  Lots of blankets and pillows.
53.  Air conditioning/heat.
54.  Calm.
55.  Summer evenings.
56.  Summer smells (bbqs, pool toys and chlorine, freshly mowed lawns, jasmine and honeysuckle)
57.  Spring...everything about it.
58.  Crisp mornings.
59.  Sunsets and sunrises.
60.  Cheeseburgers.
61.  Any time the kid learns something.
62.  Long showers.
63.  Internet access.
64.  The way coffee shops smell (actually coffee shops, not Starbucks - no lack of love, it's just different)
65.  YA shows  (PLL, TVD).
66.  YA books.
67.  Romantic tension...in real life and fiction.
68.  Talking to people about good books.
69.  Inspiration.
70.  Writing until my hands cramp, without stopping to edit.
71.  Editing.
72.  Dark Chocolate.
73.  That moment when ALL the laundry is done, right before it's not done anymore.
74.  Trees.
75.  Iced tea.
76.  Nag Champa incense.
77.  Finishing things.
78.  Pictures.
79.  When the only light in a room comes from an xmas tree.
80.  When the only light in a room comes from a candle.
81.  Hearing the right song at the right time.
82.  Scent memories.
83.  Anticipation.
84.  Tattoos.
85.  Serotonin/dopamine/oxytocin/acetylcholine
86.  My back yard.
87.  Kid art.
88.  The smell of crayons.
89.  Secrets...confessions...sharing.
90.  Seeing certain people smile...particularly if the smiles are for me.
91.  Lotion.
92.  Nail polish.
93.  Popcorn.
94.  Salsa.
95.  Daydreaming
96.  Being told that something I've done is good.
97.  People doing nice things for others.
98.  Anyone who goes out of his/her way for me...even for something little.
99.  Silence with someone...that isn't awkward.
100.  Looks that say more than words.

Bonus!  Cuties...the little oranges.  And pineapples.  And disinfecting wipes.  And green.  And ideas that keep me up.



Plus...some things that piss me off... (this is a very mild list...)
1.  Not knowing I have a cut until I use hand sanitizer.
2.  Stupid people.
3.  Most people being anywhere near me...my personal space bubble is HUGE.
4.  Anyone who thinks that cologne/perfume can be used in place of bathing and deodorant.
5.  Getting home from the store and realizing I forgot the one thing I went there to get...
6.  Strawberry seeds.
7.  The ability of a child to completely destroy a room in under a minute...and the fact that it takes longer than that to clean it up.
8.  The dishes don't wash themselves.
9.  Dinner doesn't cook itself.
10.  The laundry doesn't put itself away.
11.  The toys don't pick themselves up.