"experience is what you get when you didn't get what you wanted." -randy pausch

Saturday, August 8, 2015

the ice age

you calling me fat?
-8 weeks-
 ...
tonight brennan was asking me 
if there was gonna be 
another ice age,
and if there was, would we survive?
and how would we live in the cold?
and would there be dinosaurs again?
because he said there were cave men and dinosaurs in the ice age 
{i blame dream works for this entire conversation by the way}.
and i was all, yeah, there's probably gonna be another ice age, 
'cause everything cycles you see,
this is what i told him.
and we'll probably need coats, 
and our gas bill will go up, 
but mostly my point was that we'd either adapt or die out.
'cause brennan doesn't have nightmares, 
and he likes it when i just shoot it to him straight,
even if we're talking about dying in the next ice age,
if we don't have good enough coats and stuff.
so then we talked about how like we'd have to build bubbles over our cities,
and heat them to a perfect sunny and 70* or something 
{except for fall and christmas where we'd want the leaves to fall off the trees and then for it to snow}, 
or just that we'd need to make really great coats, 
or find someone who makes really great coats, 
like better coats than what the stores sell now. 
stuff like that. 
'cause we'd be adapting you know. 
and then when i was driving home from getting froyo alone after
ALL 4 kids of ours 
were in bed 
AT THE SAME TIME 
and ASLEEP 
at the SAME TIME 
{this hasn't happened in the last 8 weeks you see}, 
and i was thinking about how having a baby is kind of like the next ice age.
adapt or die out.
because all of a sudden you realize that you've adapted 
and you're no even sure when that actually happened 
or how you really got there,
{and you're so tired that you're not really sure you're actually alive anyway...or awake. whichever}
because you didn't even plan it or anything,
adapting.
you just know it happened, 
and you know you survived. 
just call me darwin;)

august

when my backyard is covered in snow,
and my kids are puking from something they surely picked up while picking their noses at school,
i look out my kitchen window and imagine my garden in august.
green.
green.
green.
especially the giant sunflower leaves.
i like them better before they bloom you know.
when they're stretching for the sky.
and i feel like they could grow up forever.
so there i am, standing at my kitchen sink,
staring at the snow,
and i'm imagining what it feels like to walk outside to warm up,
and it hits me,
maybe i love summer after all?
maybe i love august after all! 
but don't worry,
i still love winter too;)
because how on earth would summer ever taste so good,
without a cold winter to remind me of what it felt like to be warm.

Friday, August 7, 2015

ATTENTION! ATTENTION!

ATTENTION!
ATTENTION!
i got a new phone!
and the selfie function is baaaaaaaaack.
for the first time in over 2 years.
GLORY BE,
i can't believe i talked myself into thinking we could survive without it!
1st world probs,
fixed:)

Thursday, August 6, 2015

for fun.

and then one day,
he just walked into the room,
picked up a book,
and read it.
for fun.

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

reflux life.

eat for 10 minutes.
barf for 10 minutes.
and THEN get the hiccups.
he's soaked.
i'm soaked.
go away reflux.
are we there yet???

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

my wolf. {7 weeks}

dear baby dean,
the first day you were born i remember loving that you were furry.
like werewolf furry.
your arms show it best.
when i nurse you,
i love to brush my fingers ever so lightly back and forth along your furry furry arms.
they are the softest and furriest arms i've ever seen.
and i ADORE it.
your fur goes all over your back and up your little neck.
oh my word,
i want my lay my cheek against your furry little self just thinking about it right now.
then there's your sideburns.
they come down into your cheek.
once i tried to comb them straight,
but they don't comb straight.
they curve in with a callik stronger than the 7 seas,
and grow just under your cheekbones.
like a werewolf.
that's why i call you my wolf.
i don't even know if i've anyone,
not even dad,
that i call you this.
i don't know why,
i just haven't.
you have the most perfect feet.
they so evenly splay out.
like i've never seen a more perfect foot with five perfect toes ever.
not ever!
your hands are so flat.
and you love to hold them up flat.
i high five you sometimes and laugh so hard.
because it's really funny how flat you can make your hands.
flat stanley!
that's what i always think.
and then there's your eyelashes.
when you were first born,
they laid flat on your eyelid.
flat, and curved down.
and for the last 7 weeks,
they've slowly stood up and straightened themselves out,
but they're still halfway laid down,
and halfway moving straight up,
and for some reason this has entranced me your whole entire life.
you smile now.
big huge grins.
and just when i think you've smiled the biggest your mouth will let you smile,
you tilt your head back,
raise your chin up,
and open your smile even wider.
this is how i know you're good and fed.
even though you've already barfed half of your milk down us both. 
you sleep.
like nobody's business.
you love to snooze on your tummy.
especially when you're on my bed.
there's nothing that i love more than watching you fall asleep.

the other kids are ALL over you ALL the time.
it bugs me,
and sometimes it bugs you,
but then other times,
just as i'm about to shoo them off,
you'll look at brennan,
or max,
or chase
right in the face
and give them one of your fancy giant grins,
and we all jump up and down.
because you let us know.
you know us.
and it's amazing.

when you cry,
and especially if you're really upset,
i love to pick you up
because you immediately turn your cry into the most relieved little whimper,
like there's nobody else you'd rather be held by right at that very minute.
and sometimes you will suck in a few short little breaths,
like you're catching your breath,
and then you lay your whole little body right into mine,
limp like a noodle,
and you breath on my neck.
the sweetest little breathing on my neck.
and it's the best feeling.
i just can't get enough of it.
i've never sat and stared at a baby so much as you.
and memorized every single inch and dimple.
maybe it's because i'm thinking you're our last.
and i want to drink you in for as long as i can.
or maybe it's because i know i'll blink, 
and you'll be too busy for me to memorize you so close.
either way,
this has been the best summer.
sitting in the rocking chair with my little wolf.
love,
mom