Thursday, February 17, 2011

Blessed

For those that know me, know that I never wanted children. Don't get me wrong, I loved other's people kids, but I loved giving them back. I had no desire to change diapers, deal with tantrums, or have to explain to others why my house looked like romper room. I prided myself on being fun-loving, care free, and hanging out with friends. I spent every moment fulfilling the proverb of eat, drink, and be marry. Kids didn't fit into that formula. My maternal clock was broken.

After years of proclaiming I didn't want a family one day I told my husband that we'd let fate decide for us.

Well fate found us. I got pregnant.

I hated being pregnant. I was indifferent about having a child. I believed that the maternal fairy had missed me and I was bound to be one of those mother's that wasn't hard wired to be a mother. I made no secret of this. I told everyone. My mom tried to ease my worries by telling me I'd be a great mother, but I didn't believe her.

I often wondered why I didn't have those happy pregnant feelings that I read about? Why wasn't I excited to meet my little cooking nugget? I was horrified with myself because I wasn't like all of those women I read about. . . I wasn't ecstatic about being a mom. I was so scared I wouldn't like my child that I spent many nights awake worrying about it.

My indifference melted the day my little nugget decided to enter this world. My love for Emma is something that I can't explain. I had worried endlessly for nothing. It was love at first site.

I feel I have been totally blessed because I really like my kid. For 9 months I worried about not being maternal and after she was born it just clicked. Everyday she wakes up with a smile on her face and an insatiable curiosity. She is an easy going, happy to be doing what ever, ready to take on the world kind of girl. . . . and I can totally relate (about the taking on the world part, not the rest, ha!) I am one of the lucky ones in that I get to spend my days with my child and I wouldn't give that up for anything. I am not religious, but I thank God for the gift of Emma.

Why am I blabbering you ask? I am writing this as a reminder for when she hits puberty and I question my decision to have a child. . . I am writing this as a testimony of my love for my child. There is absolutely nothing in this world like it.

So on that note. . my camera died so I purged the pictures from my camera phone. Enjoy!


Em using a dog bed as a nest!

My three greyhounds

Lady Gaga has nothing on Em
Grandma hats are all the fashion!
This one cracks me up. . .she was having an "art show". . .what's the art, and what's the show, who knows. . . hence the reminder of how much I love my kid. I'm pretty sure I'm going to have my hands full!

Friday, February 11, 2011

Order and Schedules


I never imagined that my life would become so routine. My life is one big schedule and all of those living around me must adhere to it or else.

Or else what?

Last night I got stuck at work and ended up running a little late. That little bit late turned my world upside down. The dogs were underfoot. Em was cranky and demanding. Mazie cried incessantly. Tucker was extraordinarily grumpy. Everything was out of whack. I was at whits end and was ready to just walk away .. . . .but I persevered. I stuck with it and everyone got fed, bathed, and into bed. After it was all said and done I finally sat down and I swear the gigantic sigh I released could be heard in all of Georgetown.

Wow!

Laptop finally in hand, a big glass of tea, and quiet. Quiet being the optimal word. . . . .it was heavenly.

This got me thinking. Could 30 minutes really set our entire lives into complete and utter upheaval?

The answer was yes.

After evaluating our daily routine I realized that we get up within 15 plus or minus the same time every morning. We do X, Y, and Z (I won't bore you with the details, because it would be just that. . .boring) then walk the dogs. We go to work, we do X, Y, and Z then go get coffee. We work all day, come home and immediately walk the dogs and then do X, Y, Z.
This got me thinking; who is this X, Y and Z and why are they running my life?

Well, after ruminating about it for hours and hours, I determined that X, Y, and Z have become my good friends. X, Y, and Z got things done.. X, Y, and Z are order. X, Y, and Z was predictability. X, Y, and Z was sanity. Most of all X, Y, and Z have given me peace.

I never thought I would live by the "book" and have schedules dictate my life, but I have found that disorder in our household is very unwanted. X, Y, and Z keep me and all of the beings in my life sane. Thank you order, schedules, and predictability, because of you I am happy!! I will try never to stray from you again!

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

The case of the missing remote

Last night I got ready for bed, crawled under the covers, and reached for the remote. To my surprise the remote was not in its place. It was gone!! I spent over an hour searching in drawers, under furniture, on top of furniture, and in the deep dark cracks of every inch of my house. To no avail .. no remote. This wouldn't have been a problem, except Comcast keeps themselves in business selling replacement remotes. . .because you can't change the channel without one. A crock if you ask me.

This morning when Em woke up I asked, "Em did you take mama's remote from the bedroom?"

No answer.

While we were eating breakfast I enquired, "Hey Em, did you hide mama's black remote?"

No answer.

As I got her dressed I said, "Em where did you put the black remote that was in the bedroom?"

Again, no answer.

I started brushing her hair and informed her, "Mama spent an hour looking for her remote last night, did you put it somewhere?"

No answer.

I believe she was avoiding me. . . . .



While brushing her hair she got mad at me and started squirming and crying. I told her to be patient and informed her that I was getting quite frustrated. As I put her down she looked at me with her big blue eyes and says, ""Mama no frustrated! Follow me!"

With that, she turned around and trotted into my bedroom. She walked directly to the tv stand, pushed the vcr flap (we have a combo vcr and dvd player) and yells, "Silly Remote. Its Hiding!!"

Okay, she was right, how can you stay mad with something as asinine as that. I knew I smelled a rat! A little rat named Emma!



the look of an angel. . . see the halo?