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Love this!

I started this when my parents were here for my baby boy’s first birthday. I just didn’t have time to finish, but I really wanted to write this down for the kids to read later. I wanted them to read how much their grandparents loved them. And how different they were with me and my sister…and how time changes people.

The first time my parents met my Noodles was when he was born. Not much fun…eat, cry, sleep, poo. Repeat.

THIS was the first time they were getting to interact with him…in his one year old glory.  He is so funny, charming…and starting to be a little toot with his foray into independence.

As my parents were playing with him, all I could do was stare at them and think to myself, “Who ARE these people?”

We had it in our ‘things to do’ list to baby proof the house later…the door knobs, drawers, cabinet doors, etc.  I had sporadically started putting safety devices…a little bit here, a little bit there. But Noodles didn’t get around much so I thought I had time.

My dad got right on it.
He finished the living room and the kitchen.
 THEN he went back and took off all the knobs on the drawers that had them.
I purchased these little silicon things that you put on the corners to soften it for a child’s head, which I already had on some of the corners. I guess my dad didn’t think those were on there good enough because he put duct tape on top of it. (In his defense, Noodles would be able to pull them off when he got older. AND my dad did ask for tape but all I had was duct tape.) THEN he went back to the drawers and duct taped those shut. (These are the same drawers with the security tab AND the knobs taken off.)
Suddenly there was duct tape all over the place! You’d think I deliberately went out and purchased wood furniture with this silver-ish detail.

Poor Hubby held his tongue. He just pulled me over and pointed. All he said was, “You know if you leave the tape on there the wood will discolor.”

When they left, we took off the tape. I wish I took pictures. Looking back, it’s pretty funny…and sweet.

Now we Skype. They can see everything Noodles is doing. And what he gets on.
So our conversation is something like:
“Yes, we are fine. We went to…OH NO, Noodles! Get him down! He’s going to fall.”
“No, Dad, he’s fine. It’s just the sofa.”
“What if he flips over?”
“Well, then he’ll learn not to do it again.”
“You should move the sofa over there.”
“Then he’ll climb up and get to the tv…or over the railing. We’ll just leave it here.”

Seriously, if they had their way, everything in the house would be bubble wrapped and all of the furniture taken out. This is only a couple of examples of what they did, but you get the picture. We had a version of this conversation at least once a week. It does get a little exasperating, but I know they mean well. 

THESE are the same people who told me and my sister to get the scissors…and “Hurry up! What’s taking so long?!”
Or on family car vacations, they let us lay across the back of the car…right under the window over the stereo speakers.
Or “Why are you crying? It’ll stop bleeding soon.”

I called them on it. They just laughed: “Really? We did that?”

When I read this article, I wasn’t surprised that children were much safer with grandparents than anyone else…even their own parents! (based on this study)

I really wish they were here. I miss them. Maybe I could put some duct tape around the house.

I noticed I haven’t posted anything since January…8 months ago.

To be honest, I’m surprised I even posted then. I must have been really annoyed with the wings at the time.

Well, what’s happened since then?
Had another baby…a little girl. She was a “teeny” baby of 8 pounds 3 ounces. To the World, a goodly sized baby. To us, an amazingly small baby. (Remember big brother, Noodles, was over 10 pounds with the head of a large melon.)

I was reminded that God has a sense of humor:
I was SO SURE our little girl, “L”, was going to have a huge noggin like Noodles. He was and is still off the charts in head size. Like his father and paternal grandfather, he’ll probably will always have to custom make his hats. But L? She came out with her head in the 25% of all babies her age.

I could have passed her easy! 🙂
If you put her next to Noodles, in fruit terms, it was a navel orange next to a good size honeydew.

But back to the title of this entry:

I’ve always said that this blog would reflect my life…and where I am at the time I am writing it.
I started of just writing about things that interested me. Then it was all about trying to get pregnant. Then about how wonderful it was being a mother.

Then I got pregnant. Fast.

We had so much drama getting pregnant with Noodles I (again God’s sense of humor and timing) thought, surely, it would be a couple of years at least to get pregnant again. And this time, if it happens, it happens. No ‘helping’ the situation. I truly would have been happy with one child. He was so wonderful, he would have been enough.

Little Girl happened two months after we tried.

Then I got tired. And busy.

In the list of things that are important, blogging is pretty low on the list for me. But I did miss it. Every now and then I would think this or that would be a great topic to write about…or I’ll have to remember to do this later. Sometimes, something struck me so intensely, I came back to do a draft to remind myself. (Those I will finish and post…although it may not make much sense chronologically.)

But I digress. The Metamorphosis.

Now this blog is going to be more of a diary for me (Yes, maybe a little weird to blog a diary, but I type MUCH faster than I write. And as long as the Internet is around, I figure I can find my blog. I can’t say the same thing for an actual diary book.)…and later something for my children to read. I’d like them to know their mother was a person who loved them…had lots to share…had faults, wishes & desires…and at times, was funny.

Who knows how long this site will continue. But when they get older, I will give them a link to this. Or copy all of my entries and save it to give to them.

Noodles is going to start school a couple of days a week after Labor Day. I’m hoping if L will let me, I’d blog at least a couple of times a month. I’ll be happy with once a month right now.

So my journey starts…already started in Life…now in print.


So I’m pregnant with our second…and craving Buffalo wings. I’ve always loved Wingstop in the past…luscious, plump drumettes…finger-licking wings. The original sauce was just spicy enough for this pregnant Momma. (their fries weren’t bad, as well)

We ordered some.

Boy, were we disappointed.
These were the puniest, most annorexic chicken wings I’ve ever had the misfortune of seeing…the whole lot of them.
I was so disappointed, I even took a picture of it. (I placed a quarter next to it so you can visually see how small…go ahead: take out a quarter and imagine how disappointingly small these were!) And I didn’t just pick out the smallest. The anomaly in both boxes were the two lonely “normal” sized wings amongst the pygmy wings.

It’s really too bad. I really did like their food…one of the few ‘fast food’ places I actually liked.
I plan on writing Wingstop. I hope they see the errors of their way and go back to their roots.

Do you remember a toy that you played with that brings back memories of your childhood? Maybe it was the Big Wheel you got for Christmas or a certain kind of Barbie doll that you just HAD to have? You see it and immediately, those feelings rush back.
Mine was a squeaky toy that I really can’t remember. It was stolen from me when I was too young to build those memories.

Since the birth of my son, I’ve been looking online for toys. I stumbled on this squeaky toy and catapulted to the very last real conversation I remember having with my grandmother.

It wasn’t the first time she mentioned it. She would always say, “When you were little, you had the prettiest little squeaky giraffe toy. You loved that giraffe. It was this big and had brown dots everywhere. And the sweetest face. Then one day, there were a lot of kids over at the house. We never saw that giraffe again.”
It really bothered her that my favorite toy…her first and only grandchild’s (at the time) was stolen. She described it so well, I ‘saw’ the giraffe…even though I really had no recollection of playing with it myself.
So when I saw this giraffe, I immediately went back to that last conversation. I KNOW this is the giraffe. (“How can the same giraffe be sold now?” you are thinking to yourself. Apparently this was ‘born’ in 1961 so it’s been around a while…and the design hasn’t changed.)

My memories of my grandmother fades a little more each year. I feel like I am losing her again. At one point in my life, she was my primary caretaker. She was the one to pass on the love of gardening. She had natural artistic talents…that she also passed on. Aways so gentle: I cannot remember her ever being harsh with me.
And beautiful!
Even though life crushed her tiny body until it bowed, when you looked at her delicate features, you knew she was a stunner when she was young. I so wish I had a picture of her in her youth.

As I type this, I can’t help but think about all of my regrets: not knowing enough of the language to really converse with her…not having had the forethought to ask her her story…not having taken care of her later in life. But most of all, that last time, I wish I could have wrapped my arms around her tightly, kissed her and told her how much I loved and appreciated her.
I wish my son could have met her. She would have loved him.
So many regrets…useless, I know.

Being the practical person, I cannot justify buying this squeaky toy for $20. I just can’t.

It’ll be enough…just to look.
When I see a picture of this giraffe, I will see her gentle face. It’ll make me so happy I will cry…again.

BEFORE BABY
TheJennifer: “Oh look! Here’s a packet of ten bibs. I can put these individual ones back and get these. That’s all I’ll need.”

“Hey, Gerber has a pack of onesies. 6 should almost last me a week. I can just do a load every week. Oh heck, why don’t we get two packs and do laundry every other week?”

AFTER BABY
TheJennifer: “Honey, why are you using that rag as a bib? We bought ten, you know.”
“What do you mean he used them all? He’s not even done with lunch!”

“Dear, do you think we should do a load or two a day instead of 8 on the weekend? I think I smell the motor burning. We really need more onesies. Winter is coming soon. We can’t keep him nekkid all the time. Yes, even if it IS easier to clean him. Someone might see and call CPS.”

I don’t know about mothers who’ve had more than one child as I’m a brand-spankin’ new mom. But if you are a first time mom, doesn’t it feel like YOU are the first mother EVER?
You think nobody else could have felt what you are feeling? These gut-wrenching fears, or the all encompassing love that overwhelms you at times. Nobody else has experienced and noticed these wonderful new things the way you have? How amazingly developed the muscles in his neck are or evolved his comedic timing is.

Are you as annoying to experienced mothers as they seem to be to you?

Brand New Mothers: “”Every kid does that?” Arrghh!!! MY child is SPECIAL! How can you be so blind as to NOT recognize this?”
Experienced Mothers: “Oh good Lord, you’d think you invented Motherhood! Get over yourself!”

As a new mom, I implore experience mothers to let us have this moment. Just nod your head and say, “That’s wonderful!” instead of “Yeah, most of them will at that age.”

Let us rhapsodize about his cute farts, sweet smelling poos, his amazing aim & timing with his peeing…just this once. Don’t ruin the moment by rolling your eyes. Or telling us how singularly normal all this is.

Remember when you thought YOUR child’s every babble was the most scintillating conversation…every bodily function was the most fascinating thing in the world? That his every action proved he was the most advanced baby this world had ever seen?

I think all children should have had that opportunity…to be that loved in someone’s eyes. Whether a biological mother, adoptive mother, or grandparents…SOMEONE should look at that child and fit to burst with love and pride. My heart breaks for those kids who never got to see or experience what should have been a God-given right to have.

This truly is a magical time for us new moms…kind of like the moment in time when your children believed in Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy. So don’t ruin it for us. It’s so fleeting. Who’s it gonna hurt?

Besides, I promise if you let us have this time, I won’t let the cat out of the bag about Santa and the Tooth Fairy.