Fabulous Miss S.

I want to make a memory

Every night after Noah's bath I snuggle him and nurse him and just after he falls asleep I hold him close and rest my face gently on his and breathe deeply, so deeply that I envision myself inhaling his scent so deep into my lungs that the sweet sting of baby creates a memory as permanent as the tattoo on my lower back.  In this moment everything else in the world fades subtly away and I am once again one body and mind with my child.

And every night regardless of the shit that is happening in our lives or in my house, cats harfing, bills waiting to be paid, dishes stacked in their filth or an earthquake in California, I tell myself I am going to go downstairs and tell Marc how much I love him and thank him for helping me create Noah and doubly for letting me stay home and watch his every glorious movement. 

And every night, every damn night, I get massively sidetracked I need a shower, maybe i'll put on my workout clothes, oh look ... I think I'll brush my teeth for the first time today, and by the time I get downstairs and see him, I usually end up saying  angrily huffing in his direction something like you didn't unload the dishwasher yet dammit can't you stop watching tv for a second and fucking help me? 

I feel bad that the only way he'll know this little sweet part of me is if he reads my blog. My very public blog. I mean this, honey. Really.  And because you went out tonight, with other guys and left me home alone, I had time to write this because I didn't have to make you dinner.

Alltop

In the words of Forrest Gump, "I sure hope I don't let him down..." Well, hell. I am on a list next to the big girls, the REAL mombloggers who have real ads and real writing on their sites. But! They let me in anyway. I'm going to use this opportunity to actually try and improve my writing, write a little something each day, push myself, you know, a challenge. Thanks, Alltop!

Weekend Re-Cap

It went by too fast and I didn't get enough exercise or use enough sunscreen or write enough but we got wet!  Ok?

Will a cute baby picture tide you over until I can sit down and get an actual post typed out? 

If we all lived just a tiny bit more like Randy Pausch the world would be a phenomenally better place

Awhile back I saw Randy Pausch on Oprah. I was just flipping channels and I didn't know the back story but the part of his Last Lecture that I did hear was inspiring and quite moving.  I saw something about him posted recently and I was prompted to get his book, The Last Lecture, which I am reading right now.  I'm not good enough with words to explain why he was so influential and inspiring, perhaps it was his ability to really see through the petty everyday life crap and stay focused on the ultimate prize; leading a most meaningful life and making the most of every minute.  If there really was a GOD he wouldn't let people like this die.

Each night as I read more of his book I kept meaning to get up in the morning and check to see how he was doing, and if he was still living. 

A headline on CNN told me he died this morning.

If he doesn't get sick tomorrow it will be a damn miracle

I decided to forgo my deeply coveted cuddle hour in bed with Noah this morning and attend my local Mom's Club meeting that was having a 10 AM ice cream party-meeting.  I only spent about twenty minutes last night asking Marc panicky questions about what I should wear and more importantly, what Noah should wear.  We all know that mothers actually judge each more based on their kids appearance than their own. 

Marc said to opt for something "conservative" to which I replied, "you really don't know me at all do you?"

I settled on a onesie that read good looks run in the family.  I was hoping that by wearing my humor on my sleeve it would make me more approachable and REAL.

I wanted my first impression to be bold and significant because I knew I would experience the group as much as they were experiencing me.  Having always been known as the quiet, shy, cooperative, sweet person I have been searching deeply lately to channel my inner freak, my inner boldness. I keep trying to  get a punky haircut but doesn't come out that way.  It isn't that I am no longer a nice person, I am, very much so, but I want people to see the parts of me that I have kept hidden for so many years because that is the person I actually strive to be each day.

I was highly skeptical of this group before I met them.  I wasn't expecting a bunch of supermoms but more like thoroughly coiffed mothers with children named Ayden, Brayden, Jaden, Cadyn and Mackenzie. 

I was wrong. Mostly.

Everyone I spoke to was more than welcoming and accepting.  They were interested in Noah and me and another mother whose third daughter is a week younger than Noah glommed onto me and declared right then and there that were to be BFFs simply based on this fact alone. Also, I read, and she hosts the monthly book club.  

Noah sat on the floor giggling and cooing at other kids.   When I turned my back to talk to another mom, he ate the crepe paper that was decorating the table.  And when we got home I noticed that he had random sticky ice cream toppings plastering his hair to his forehead.  

I think that makes it a success. 

**EDITED TO INCLUDE**  It needs to be said that I write about my new friend with great love and refer to her "glomming" onto me in a tongue-and-cheek sort of way, as I predict a good friendship coming of this first meeting.  You know, just in case they GOOGLE me before they let me join. <shivers>