Sammy Sam LOOOOVES baseball. Shocker - I know. He went to his first big league game at Fenway Park on their last home game of the regular season. It, like so many of their games this year, was a win. He got to see his favorite player, Big Papi, hit a home run right near our seats, and learned how to sing "Sweet Caroline" along with the Fenway Faithful. He has been watching the playoffs with earnest, doing laps around the kitchen and flopping onto the ottoman declaring himself "SAFE!" He enjoys chanting "Koji, Koji, Koji" when Sox closer Koji Uehara slams the door on a victory. When he can't watch the games because he's sleeping, he finds joy in the highlight clips on mommy's laptop the next morning. His favorite moments of course have been the Grand Slams by Big Papi and Shane Victorino. To him, these are things that should happen all of the time. He doesn't know how special they are in the nature of baseball - especially playoff baseball. To Sammy, they are just "Grand Lambs" for the Red Sox, which seem to make his mommy and daddy very happy. And that makes Sammy very happy. He is getting for bed right now; his daddy putting on his PJ's after a bath. He won't be able to watch the World Series live, but he's in the spirit. He is singing Sweet Caroline loud and strong and completely off key. Not unlike his rendition of Take Me Out to the Ball Game below. It may hurt your ears, but it is sweet music to mine every time. GO SOX!
At the age of 45, writer Regina Brett wrote a column for the Cleveland Plain Dealer listing 45 lessons that life had taught her thus far. As a breast cancer survivor, many of those lessons were learned the hard way. Five years later she added five more lessons rounding her list up to 50 and turned her popular list into a book called God Never Blinks. I found her list to be entertaining, inspiring and thought provoking. I thought I would go through each of her lessons learned and write about how that lesson has or has not come up in my own life, now that I am over 40 and feel old enough to have finally learned something.
"Read the psalms no matter what your faith, they cover every human emotion."
~ LESSON #38
I must first preface my thoughts on the above by saying that I recently realized, after 45 "50 Lessons" posts, that the chain letter of this list that I was working off of was quite inaccurate in the order of Ms. Brett's actual list. I went back and corrected all of my previous entries to match the correct Lesson number. Which is why you find me covering Lesson #38 just now. You will find the remaining lessons to be in random order. For myself, who values accuracy and proper quotation, this is annoying. For you, it shouldn't make any difference - the lessons and my thoughts are in the end, the point - not their order of appearance.)
My grandmother was a woman of strong faith. Both of my grandmothers were, in fact. I'm not sure if their devotion skipped some generations or what exactly, but my parents, and myself as a result, are not big churchgoers. My religious teachings essentially ended when I entered high school - probably a time they would have provided a lot of good moral lessons that I otherwise ignored altogether ;0) I always enjoyed church and the bible stories that were imparted to me as a child. As an adult, I decided to pick up my Bible and read through it, rather than reading whatever modern fiction was on my radar at the time. I do love a good classic after all.
The trouble I had with my attempt at reading the Bible was that it felt like reading Shakespeare - the language threw up a roadblock to something I wasn't completely enthusiastic about to begin with. Truth be told, when I entered into more unfamiliar territory the farther along I went, I got lazy and gave up.
My grandmother didn't give up. At her funeral, the preacher read to us from her own Bible. It was clear that my grandmother's favorite book was indeed The Good Book. Her love, devotion and personal connection to the scriptures inside were evident by the margins filled with her personal notations and well worn, dog-eared pages.
My grandmother's religious practice may not have filtered down to me in the same way, but I did inherit her propensity to fill my beloved books with myself; scribbles, notations, markings and turned down pages.
I want to revisit my grandmother's favorite book. I wish that I had her own copy at my disposal to infuse my reading with her personality. I believe that my uncle has this prized possession, as he should. But I do have a lot of her personality already within me. In fact, both of my grandmothers' personalities thrive within me. They were headstrong, forward thinking, fiercely protective, and devoted. I come from excellent stock. And because headstrong is a polite way to describe someone who is stubborn, I have no excuse but to begin my goal again and forge ahead.
And who knows, perhaps I'll decorate my Bible with my personality as I read along, leaving something for my son to have when he's in need of some extra guidance.
At the age of 45, writer Regina Brett wrote a column for the Cleveland Plain Dealer listing 45 lessons that life had taught her thus far. As a breast cancer survivor, many of those lessons were learned the hard way. Five years later she added five more lessons rounding her list up to 50 and turned her popular list into a book called God Never Blinks. I found her list to be entertaining, inspiring and thought provoking. I thought I would go through each of her lessons learned and write about how that lesson has or has not come up in my own life, now that I am over 40 and feel old enough to have finally learned something.
"Life is too short for long pity parties. Get busy living, or get busy dying."
~ LESSON #16
(I must first preface my thoughts on the above by saying that I recently realized, after 45 "50 Lessons" posts, that the chain letter of this list that I was working off of was quite inaccurate in the order of Ms. Brett's actual list. I went back and corrected all of my previous entries to match the correct Lesson number. Which is why you find me covering Lesson #16 just now. You will find the remaining lessons to be in random order. For myself, who values accuracy and proper quotation, this is annoying. For you, it shouldn't make any difference - the lessons and my thoughts are in the end, the point - not their order of appearance.)
See that sorry mug up there? That's my sweet Sammy Sam, leaving the hospital with a full leg cast on his right leg. A week ago, we were out with my parents on a playground, after a celebratory birthday lunch for Grandpa. Riding down one of the big kid slides on my lap, Sammy's shoe caught the edge of the slide on an unexpected turn at the bottom. It was enough to twist his foot and leg to cause a "toddler fracture." It seems this often happens when kids get their foot stuck in the slat of their crib. Of course in my world, it happens with him in my arms, trying to have fun. Mother of the year.
After breaking his leg, Sammy was wrapped up in this cast and I was told that it could not get wet at all and it would stay on for three weeks. And since it is a full leg cast, disallowing him to bend his knee, walking would be out of the picture too. Well, Sammy had just spent the last two months perfecting this walking and running skill. He had been waiting his WHOLE LIFE to walk and run. And now it was off the table. He also is a big fan of baths. Ernie's "Rubber Ducky" tune could be the boy's theme song. So, you can imagine how bummed out he felt that first day.
As a baby, Sammy was miserable before he could crawl. He would sit there and flap his arms and wail for someone - anyone - to come by and pick him up and move him to wherever it was that he wanted to be. His demeanor changed dramatically when he figured out how to crawl. And it got even better when he figured out how to walk. Now that he found himself being held back in "being mobile class," he was furious. When he woke up to find that stupid cast still stuck on his leg wasn't just a bad dream, he fussed and whined and played the injury card every minute. And of course, I coddled and spoiled and begged forgiveness. And although he enjoyed the attention, the novelty wore off pretty quickly when he realized I still couldn't read his mind after 14 months of effort. If he wanted what he wanted, he'd have to come up with another way to just get it himself.
By the end of the first day after the cast arrived on his leg, he had climbed in and out of his toy basket and all the way up the stairs without a slip. It was a noisy climb - lots of thwacking of the cast on the wood stairs. It was a hairy climb - as his spotter, I had endless visions of a tumbling toddler needing a full body cast and calls to Social Services. It was a tiring climb - a deliberate pace and impressive display of upper body strength. But most importantly, it was a joyous climb - Sammy plopped on the landing at the top, turned around with a beaming smile and clap-clap-clapped with great pride. He had discovered that he wasn't trapped in a cast after all. He could still be independent.
The next day he improved upon the dragging crawl and perfected the crab crawl technique. From there, he began to prop himself up on furniture and then shuffled into some furniture surfing. By the fourth day, he was pushing his toy car around and around the kitchen as if there was no cast underneath his pant leg. On the fifth day, he started walking.
I am concerned that this walking skill may harm his healing process. At the hospital, I was told by the orthopedic doctor that Sam had no restrictions aside from water. But the doctor also said that Sam would not be ABLE to walk because of the cast. This child is able to do anything because of his powerful will to do everything his mother wishes he wouldn't. I need to call this doctor and find out if we need to strap Sammy to a board for the remaining two weeks or if his peg leg maneuvers will be okay; Sammy's definition of a walking cast is a little different from the medical one.
I am very thankful that our little boy has such a determined spirit. That he recognizes already how much better it is to do things than to wait for things to happen. By the time his Get Well Soon care packages arrived from sad friends and family, he was making his way to the door to say hello to the delivery truck. He does not want or need a pity party. Instead, you should feel sorry for Tedy, the cat. As you can see at the end of this video, he just can't catch a break...
Sammy had a busy week. He turned a year old. He tasted cake and frosting for the first time. He had a ginormous BBQ in his honor with family and friends, a pinata, a rain storm, more cake and lots of presents and balloons. Then he spent a few days exploring all of his presents that require their own addition to the house. He had his doctor check-up where he got a gold star, and a couple of extremely painful shots that snuck right up on him and made him cry buckets. He ditched his bottles and went straight to milk in a sippy cup without complaint. Oh, and he learned to do this...
At the age of 45, writer Regina Brett wrote a column for the Cleveland Plain Dealer listing 45 lessons that life had taught her thus far. As a breast cancer survivor, many of those lessons were learned the hard way. Five years later she added five more lessons rounding her list up to 50 and turned her popular list into a book called God Never Blinks. I found her list to be entertaining, inspiring and thought provoking. I thought I would go through each of her lessons learned and write about how that lesson has or has not come up in my own life, now that I am over 40 and feel old enough to have finally learned something.
"Yield."
~ LESSON #49
Yield,verb - To surrender or submit (oneself) to another.
Sammy is about to turn a year old the end of this month. Of all of the wondrous things we've witnessed since he joined our little Bumble world, perhaps the most amazing is that not once has our beloved cat, Tedy, raised a paw towards him in any way.
Since the day Sammy was brought home, Tedy has embodied the definition of "yield." At first, I think this was more because he was curious and unsure of who this little hairless cat was living in our home. But as the weeks went by, and it was proven that Sammy was here to stay, Tedy made a choice. He could have lashed out in anger, fear or jealousy. He could have swatted, jumped on or otherwise pestered or endangered baby Sam. But he didn't. He decided instead to yield.
He became a protector, a pal and a patient pet. He has been content to observe, to tolerate overzealous little fingers and to find ever higher perches out of harm's way. As Sam has become more and more mobile, I expect that surely this will be the stage when Tedy revolts. Where he will refuse to yield to the pesky kid. But it appears they have both grown comfortable with each other and their boundaries, making life more enjoyable for all parties involved.
Every now and then, Tedy will steal one of Sammy's toys - it is torture I'm sure to watch balls roll around everywhere and not pounce on one every now and then. In those moments, it is Sam's turn to yield. He does so with glee, clapping and smiling at his furry cat...momentarily...before chasing after him. It seems Sam needs to take a page out of Tedy's yielding notebook more often.
At the age of 45, writer Regina Brett wrote a column for the Cleveland Plain Dealer listing 45 lessons that life had taught her thus far. As a breast cancer survivor, many of those lessons were learned the hard way. Five years later she added five more lessons rounding her list up to 50 and turned her popular list into a book called God Never Blinks. I found her list to be entertaining, inspiring and thought provoking. I thought I would go through each of her lessons learned and write about how that lesson has or has not come up in my own life, now that I am over 40 and feel old enough to have finally learned something.
"No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up for life."
~ LESSON #46
Gah. I am the world's laziest Bumble. Even when I feel terrific, I would generally opt for sleeping in, lounging on the couch in my PJ's and staying at home ordering delivery. To me, that's a perfectly acceptable way to pass the day. Of course, that is exactly what it is. Passing the day away. Not seizing the day.
My co-worker seizes the day. She runs the Boston Marathon every year. She runs "fun" runs on the weekends. She goes to the gym, boxing classes, track training. She's nuts. But she gets up, looks great and gets there, even when she'd rather hang at home catching up on her DVR.
Andy seizes the day. The man never misses a day of work. And every morning, he gets up to give Tedy the cat his medicine and breakfast, comes back to bed for a catnap of his own, and then gets up again to feed Sammy while I roust myself. Then he goes to work. Or, if its a weekend, just hangs with the boy. He never sleeps in. On Father's Day I insisted on taking care of the morning round of feedings, and he still got up shortly after they were done. He may not always "dress up" but he gets dressed and takes on the world when I know he'd rather take a nap.
I try to seize the day now most of the time. Sammy gives me no alternative. See that mischievous little guy up above? That's what happens when he gets bored. My job is to make sure he learns something every day. Maybe not something new. But building upon newer skills. Refining. He can't learn anything if I'm in my PJ's watching game shows. Well, I suppose he could learn price points from The Price Is Right. But lets focus on saying Ma-Ma first. Most days we have a plan. Some place to be. And so I get up, get dressed and get there. But every now and then, we don't have anything to do. I elect to skip the shower. Stay in my PJ's. Keep on the glasses instead of swapping out for my contacts. Play inside all day instead of going for a walk so the world won't see my grimy, lazy self. And wouldn't you know, the one day I skip the effort, the UPS guy shows up needing me to sign for my neighbor's package?
It turns out, my son is teaching me a lesson here. By tugging on that damn activity box on his crib rail every morning and waking me to the Itsy Bitsy Spider tune over and over and over again at the crack of dawn, he forces me to get up, get dressed and show up to wherever it is we need to be, regardless of whether I'm in an "under-the-covers-watching-soaps" or "I-can't-believe-how-beautiful-the-weather-is" kind of mood. Who knew even lazy summer days need motivation to get kick-started?
Where oh where have I been this past month? I wish I could say I was jet-setting somewhere beautiful and exotic. Sadly, no. I haven't even been transporting myself virtually to another world through reading. No time, no time. I have been out living life. Not an exotic one. Just hanging out in and around our town. Watching Sammy grow bigger and stronger, learning new skills that he is proud to show off over and over to anyone who will look his way, even if that is just Tedy the cat. Working my tail off when he sleeps. In the office. At home from my laptop and smartphone. Doing chores, yardwork, running errands. Trying to figure out how to earn more income without sacrificing more time. Making time for just Andy and I to get out together and catch a Sox game, a concert, have dinner - things we can't afford anymore but that we need to do for ourselves to stay tethered to each other - the selves we were before Sammy took over our hearts.
Just as we ask our little boy to give up things he doesn't really need anymore, like his pacifier, we give up a lot of things we enjoy but don't really need in order to be content. We take cues from Sam, who prefers boxes to the pricey things packaged inside of them. A good, healthy meal made from home is not as much of an event as heading out for some fancy dining out on the town, with a beautiful view, outdoor dining and tantalizing tastes served by someone else at a relaxing pace.
We dine in much of the time now. But it is still quite an event. Sam's exploration of food - the faces, the actions, the sounds - provide lots of entertainment. And frustration of course. Mess, fits and waste can be disappointing. Such glee though, when a new food is consumed without a fight! Reason for a toast indeed. Dinner of our own is usually reserved for after Sam's bedtime. A dessert of sorts.
Andy creates his own cookbook by filling a plain binder with printouts of recipes he's come across online, copied from magazines or from other cookbooks. Sometimes I forward blog posts of recipes to him too (hint hint). On the nights when he isn't rushing off to play for the Longshots, he swings by the grocery store to gather ingredients for that evening's dinner. After playing with Sammy and watching his dinner performance, Andy whips up our meal while I tuck our little one into bed. And when he's finished with his culinary efforts, we enjoy a meal together. Discuss our day, take in the Sox game on TV, or perhaps enjoy our meal outside on the patio gazing out onto our lovely yard with some tunes playing in the background.
We aren't dressed up and we have to do our own clean-up, but it is just as nice as going out to eat. Better, actually. The nutritional value is better under Andy's cooking control and the taste is exactly what we want, when we want it. And we don't need a babysitter to have it.
No. I haven't been off leading an exotic life. But it's a life I treasure with quite possibly one of the world's best dads and husbands. So don't worry about me when I am on a blog hiatus. I'm spending my free moments from working and mothering sitting outside watching the world unfold in our backyard over a tasty meal with a sweet guy.
This weekend will be my first Mother's Day with my child to hold in my arms. He was just a Baby-Bumble-To-Be last year when I waddled around in May, trying to get renovation projects around the house and yard wrapped up before all of our finances needed to be devoted to our child. So although he was brewing inside, I hadn't met him yet and so last Mother's Day was more anticipation than enjoyment.
Baby Sammy is now 9 months old. Helping my little boy grow and change hasn't been easy. Many days leave me bewildered and beaten. Thankfully, our family and friends have helped to teach me some valuable lessons. And of course, some fellow moms in the blogosphere have also contributed gifts to help me be a better mom to Sam...
Stacy Helped Sam Learn to Sleep:
Sam has been a good little sleeper from the beginning. He never had confusion between day and night sleep. We worked diligently on creating good wake/sleep patterns and established as much of a sleep routine as possible. The hardest challenge was getting him to learn how to put himself to sleep. Thanks to Stacy @ Stacy's Books, this process became a reality thanks to her gift of a musical "Lullaby Dog" that plays 20 minutes of music and has a glowing moon. This little dog is like a beacon for Sam, capturing his attention and creating a very soothing environment. Best of all, it is portable - meaning that it can be with him in his crib at home or in the Pack N Play on the road. Stacy sent us "Lullaby Dog" before Sam was born, along with some sleep training books that gave us input on structuring Sam's sleep habits. These generous gifts have been a God-send.
Sandy Helped Sam to Stay Warm:
When Sam is with his Auntie on the days I have to go in to the office part-time, he gets to be around his cousins and their friends. This is a LOT more entertaining that sitting around the house all day with me watching the cat steal his toys. He loves learning from his little cousin Grace who thinks he's the only baby in the world. In fact, she simply calls him Baby. Grace's older brothers, Will and Timmy, love to dote on him too. In return, Sammy enjoys going along to their activities to cheer them on. Timmy is a fantastic hockey goalie and his team won their championship this year. Thanks to Sandy @ You've GOTTA Read This, Sam stayed nice and warm in all of the hockey rinks he visited to watch Timmy's games. Sandy sent us this adorable hat from her vacation to Poland last year. The ear flaps kept him nice and toasty and the festive toque made him fit right in.
Kaye Helped Sam Learn to Crawl:
Sam spent the majority of his last two months being extremely frustrated. You see, although he knew how to roll over and sit up, he did not know how to crawl. He didn't find it all that enjoyable rolling all the way across the floor every time he wanted to go somewhere. He would sit there and flap his arms instead, fussing for someone - anyone - to pick him up and move him from place to place. Slowly but surely, he got up on his hands and knees, learned to rock back and forth, and move backwards - then forwards - a few paces before falling on his belly like a beached whale. His falls were made more comfortable thanks to the soft, cushy and beautiful quilt that Kaye @ The Road Goes Ever On made by hand especially with him in mind. Shortly after Sammy was born, we received this amazing quilt in the mail from Kaye, along with a baseball blanket that we love as well. The design matches his nursery theme of Peter Rabbit and is what we use on a daily basis for him to sit on while he plays with his toys. When he finally figured out how to crawl for real, it was on Kaye's quilt.
We have received so many tokens of love and support for baby Sam from family and friends - in our part of the world and through the blogosphere. Some have been books or clothing, toys or gear. Many others have been words of wisdom and humor. They have all made my first year of motherhood easier and more enjoyable. I hope you find a way to enjoy this Mother's Day weekend - as a mom being with her children, as a child celebrating their mother or as a friend honoring someone else's mom. I'll be with my mom, letting her chase her grandson around all day.
"Mama - please find another job so we can pay this kid to stop sitting on me..."
I am in the market for work. Though I have a part-time job that pays me well, I am still in need of additional income to cover things like the mortgage, medical expenses and ever important tickets to a Red Sox game here and there. The problem is that I need this additional work to take place from my home. My nearly 8 month old son needs me here. What to do?
My freelance writing and editing role with the travel search engine site, Uptake, was recently eliminated. But that kind of work is something that I have always done from home around all kinds of other schedules. So I decided to pursue new freelance writing opportunities online wherever I could.
I subscribed to job posting sites sending me batches of want-ads daily from the world of writing and editing. I followed craigslist on Twitter. I searched through community postings in my town. I submitted resumes, filled out online applications and crafted personalized cover letters for job after job most every day. I even applied for a small gig at the local library because, to me, being paid babysitting rates to work amongst books is a dream. Most of the time I didn't get any sort of response. Other times, I got a standardized "thank you for your interest" reply and nothing further. It was frustrating and demoralizing. But then I thought of perusing LinkedIn and came across quite an opportunity.
I have used LinkedIn in the past to find writers for the blog I used to edit for Uptake. I also used LinkedIn to hire my own full-time office job replacement before I went on maternity leave. LinkedIn has been good to me. And now it has led me to a job that I would love to have.
Although I searched through countless job postings in the various groups I belong to on LinkedIn to no avail, it was an advanced search through the main job listings that led me to an ad for a virtual office manager/assistant to the head of an Executive Search firm. A-ha! I have been running an office and supporting a veteran salesman administratively for 18 years. I can certainly do the same for someone else from my home. However, this position is also looking for someone with strong writing skills to work on creating job listings, blast e-mails and social media outreach. This has me excited.
You know what else has me excited? The person I would be working for. He is a passionate entrepreneur. He exudes creative ideas. He has developed a company involved with placing talented professionals in challenging roles within the fast-paced and constantly evolving high-tech industry. He wants to work with the next great thing - the next Facebook, the next Google. And with the people designing those tools. I want to get on that ride. When I freelanced for Uptake, they were constantly coming up with fascinating concepts to get them one step ahead of their competition. Some of these ideas took off. Others crashed and burned. What I loved was that they shared them with all of us and encouraged our input. This fostered an environment of contagious enthusiasm and made me proud to be affiliated with them.
I also am encouraged by this company's growth. They are new but established, if that makes sense. They are growing and refining. Striving to improve. And in it for the long haul. They want to hire someone willing to stick with them, get them organized and help them to become more productive. I get the sense that they value loyalty and commitment - and would love to offer those things to their new employee. I have been blessed to work for 18 years with the same individual. I am all about the long haul.
When I interviewed for this position, I was asked what I REALLY want to do for a living. Not what I want to do for work, but what I would love to do while getting paid in the process. There is that working in a library thing. And being a beat writer for the Red Sox would be pretty damn awesome. But lets face it. At this point in my life I'm not going to go back to school for a degree in journalism. I'm not going to be a celebrated writer for a national publication covering sports or any other topic. And apparently I can't be a library assistant since I haven't heard back from that local application. What I have realized instead is that I don't particularly care much for the selling of products and services, but I do very much enjoy the behind the scenes organization that helps people get where they want to be. I like to help people. Connect with them and connect them to each other. I like to give them tools to minimize the stress and chaos. If I happened to enjoy the girly girl side of life, I'd probably be a kick-ass wedding planner. Instead, I was irritated that I missed a Red Sox perfect game while I was trying on wedding gowns.
What I want to do is to take the strengths I have and use them to make a difference. I would like to take all of my time management tools, organizational skills, motivating personality and diplomatic way of putting things and use them in this new job. From my home. Where I can be handy with my son and an empowering force for my employer. I want to help people find their own perfect job - just like I hope I may have done for myself now. I could be on the cusp of greatness with an admirable boss in a cutting edge world in between changing diapers. How often does that opportunity appear? In fact, there's only one downside to this job. Unfortunately, it's a big one.
Andy told me I smelled nice the other night. This was likely because I had not been spit up on in the last few hours, had not eaten any garlic with dinner and had taken a shower that day. It was kind of him to recognize that I was clean. It is a feat I am quite proud of.
When I became pregnant with baby Sam, helpful friends and family gave me all kinds of suggestions and tips for motherhood. But the piece of advice that I took most to heart was to set no more than one daily goal for myself. Having goals are great motivators, but when you are an overwhelmed, overtired, clueless new mom, failing to accomplish many of them on a recurring daily basis can make you feel even more insufficient. But setting just one goal and getting it done day after day reminds you that you are capable of being that productive person you used to be before that baby came along to take over your life.
My one and only daily goal, from the day we brought Sammy home, was to take a shower. Even if I knew I wouldn't be leaving the house and that no one other than Tedy the cat and baby Sam would see me all day long, I still demanded that shower of myself. First of all, it helped me to feel human again. It isn't fun not fitting into any of your normal clothes with something other than elastic at the waist. It doesn't feel very attractive to lose handfuls of hair thanks to fun postpartum hormonal changes. You pretty much feel like an ugly lump. But you feel less lumpy and gross when your hair isn't greasy and your skin isn't grimy. Nice smelling soap, hair products and lotion do wonders for building self-esteem temporarily.
Another thing this daily shower did was to energize my day. It gave me a kick in the butt. Being up and showered meant that I could face whatever options the day presented. Being a new mom is isolating enough - you don't need an excuse to isolate yourself further because you look like a mess and are ashamed that others will see you. I could answer the door proudly if someone popped in unexpectedly with a gift for the little guy. No need to duck down in my bathrobe praying that they didn't see my flabby tummy and unkempt hair. I could take Sam out for a walk if the weather suddenly cleared up and he was having one of many "moments." No need to avoid walking by the homes of neighbors who might see me yet again in the same pukey sweats and baseball cap. And if there was an emergency visit to the doctor needed, I could get my boy there without them wondering how well I cared for him if I looked like I couldn't even brush my teeth.
I also got to practice my time management skills with this daily shower business. Initially, that meant learning how to take a shower, get ready and dressed in the small spurts that Sam would provide with his tiny little naps. Sometimes when naptime just didn't happen, it meant dragging him and his cradle into the bathroom with me and singing song after song to keep him entertained while I rinsed soap out of my eyes. It was during these days that I learned the blessed fact that the sound of the hair dryer would put him to sleep almost instantaneously. Poor kid took naps in our bathroom for many weeks after that tidbit of knowledge.
But eventually, the shower forced me to learn that if a baby cries, they don't always need to be rescued. By the time I would rinse out the conditioner, grab my robe and drip water all over creation running to his nursery, he would have stopped crying or even fallen back to sleep. That's when I learned to treat my daily shower as more than just my daily goal. It has become my daily reward. When I am in there, Sammy is safe in his crib. Generally he is also sleeping. If he cries (not wailing - wailing still results in mama streaking wet through the house) he cries. I finish that shower and savor those moments to myself. And if there is an added bonus to this that my husband compliments my nice smelling self, all the better.
It's that time of year - the holidays. Regardless of your beliefs, everyone has certain traditions they follow each year. Maybe that is boycotting malls or getting tipsy at the office party. But more often I think it involves gathering with family and friends to celebrate. Everyone holds on to their personal traditions with a death grip. This becomes complicated when families merge.
Thankfully, my family and Andy's family had traditions that did not conflict. Not coming from an overly religious upbringing, Easter was never a big deal in my family once we got beyond Easter Egg age. It has always been a time to gather for Andy's side. Getting together at his Aunt's house each Spring on the Cape has always been fun for me, and my family is not put out because of it. Because we spend Easter with Andy's side, and his family in general is more local to us, we have been spending each Thanksgiving with my side. Thanksgiving has become more scattered for his family over the years so as a result, we aren't the only folks MIA. Christmas is the final remaining biggie of the holidays. Where does the tie-breaker fall so to speak?
Andy's family has always gathered on Christmas Eve. My family has always celebrated more on Christmas Day. So each year we have split the holiday between the two, starting out up here and then making our way down there. It has always felt a bit like how Santa must feel, always on the go from one festive spot to another, with a trail of presents crammed in the vehicle. Except Santa's sleigh works more efficiently than sitting in icy traffic on the Mass. Pike.
Last year, we took over the hosting of Christmas Eve. We were more centrally located for everyone and had more space for the little ones to run laps around the tree, hyped up on sugar and the anticipation of gifts. Because we were hosting, we weren't exactly able to pack up and hit the road mid-evening to make our usual arrival at my folks'. And there's no fun in waking up in one house and then traveling to another to open gifts on Christmas morning. So we invited my family up for Christmas Eve and had them stay over to celebrate Christmas Day in our home instead.
Luckily for us, our families get along. Everyone is friendly, fun and welcoming. They don't get together all that often, but it is enough for everyone to be able to have a social conversation and enjoy each others company. For us, it was the best of both worlds, having everyone come to us. Sure, cleaning and decorating the house, preparing food and drinks and entertaining the masses is a lot of work. But not having to drag ourselves, the cat, luggage and packages from state to state, in wintry weather throughout the night is not a lot of fun either. We've been doing it for over 15 years. It is nice to have others come to us for a change.
The tradeoff for this is that two family's traditions have been changed. Andy's Aunt no longer hosts Christmas Eve. I know that she loves entertaining her loved ones. She had close family friends in the neighborhood that would stop in to join us every year. They aren't about to make the trek over to our place like they did to hers. The bustle of everyone wreaking havoc in her home made her home feel more vibrant and brought back memories. She lives where she grew up, in her parents' home. This home was the center of family memories for generations.
My parents no longer host Christmas Day. Growing up, we moved every few years because my father kept taking on better opportunities within his company. We never lived near where my parents grew up and where our extended family lived. Christmas was always just the four of us, my parents, my brother and me. My mother has a mammoth collection of ornaments, and her tree overflows each year from them. They mark places, people and events that are important to her and to us as a family. Some of them are homemade baubles and others are fine crystal tokens. We could go off and spend Christmas Eve visiting our friends and their families, but Christmas Day we spent together as a family. My mother's tree is no longer the one with all of the gifts placed beneath it. My father's old Christmas records are no longer our musical entertainment that morning.
This shift in traditions has been bittersweet I'm sure for Andy's Aunt and for my mother and father. They have had to let go of the traditions they provided for so many years. With baby Sammy in the mix, we have created our own family, ready for some new traditions of our own. First on that list is the merging of the people that Sammy loves the most - his family. My side, Andy's side. They aren't sides to Sammy. They are one family unit. I feel blessed that this unit lives near enough to work to make this happen. And that they care enough to give up some of their own favorite things to help create new ones.
Andy's Aunt still makes her yummy meatballs and spoils all the kids with endless gifts that are perfect and make each child feel special. My parents still bring up favorite ornaments for my brother and I to hang on my tree, just as we have done on theirs every year. But the traditions aren't about the home, the food or the gifts. They are about seeing each other to share a hug, a laugh and letting the kids go a little nuts from too much excitement. Families can't always be together for the holidays. Sometimes you have to make a choice between two sides. Trying to do both can generally make things more stressful. Have a guilt-free holiday and create new traditions wherever you roam!
Wow. Is it possible that I haven't done a post about Tedy the Cat in over a year here?! Because that's what my post archives say. Well, before you get to feeling all sorry for Tedy not getting any attention in Bumble Town, don't you fret. Not even a newborn could detract from the love this cat receives.
Before Sammy was born, we picked up a changing table from Freecycle. The kind people giving it away also threw in the pad they had. It was old and ragged and needless to say, we registered for a nice new one. When we set it up, who do you think realized quite quickly that this new piece of furniture with the cozy pad cover might make a very comfy new bed? I had to run Tedy off of that changing table a gazillion times. It was Andy who realized that the old pad sitting in the basement waiting to be thrown out could make a terrific alternative for Tedy. He was right. We had that stupid old pad sitting in the middle of our floor for months and Tedy sprawled out in it non-stop. He still jumped up on the changing table here and there but for the most part, that nasty old pad suited him just fine.
He also decided that the new stroller that we had tucked in the dining room just to get it out of the way was an awesome sleeping spot. It took a while before we discovered this hiding spot of his. And when we wheeled him out to the family room, he enjoyed the free ride.
When Sammy came home from the hospital, we were a little anxious to see how Tedy would respond. Would he spaz out whenever the baby cried? Run away and never come back because of all the different visitors traipsing in and out? Lash out because the baby got so much attention? Uh....no. Tedy thought this baby was the best thing to happen. It meant that someone was always home to let him in and out and that someone was always up to feed him or snuggle with at all hours. He enjoyed trying to hop up on the lap of whomever was feeding the baby, sniffing him out and settling for a spot on the arm of the chair. He seemed to be immune to Sammy's screaming - I was very jealous of that trait.
One of the baby related acquisitions that Tedy never quite trusted was the swing. He was always quite curious about it but that fast motion, the noises and the fact that when he tried to put his paws on it, it gave way, made him walk right by with a sideways glance every time. As happy as I was to finally be able to move the swing out of our family room and into the play room due to less need of use, I think Tedy was happiest of all to see it gone.
Though some may say that Tedy was just being curious about Sammy, I feel he was truly very protective of the little guy. When I would come home with my little Bumble still sleeping in his car seat, I would place the seat gently on the floor to continue napping while I unloaded groceries. Every time, Tedy would go over and poke his head in the seat to see if that baby had come back with me. And then he would sit there next to it until I came back to Sammy's side.
In addition to doing quality control on the changing table and stroller, Tedy also inspected the diaper bag, Sammy's bouncy seat, his play mat as well as his portable cradle. It seems that instead of going to Petco all these years in search of a bed that Tedy would enjoy, we should have just gone to Babies R Us.
Because Sammy has always been a great night sleeper, it has left us plenty of time to bond with Tedy, just like always. Although we ran him off of all of Sammy's things, we never turned our laps away when he sought them out.
One day, when we built our first fire of the season, I pulled out Tedy's old bed that he had randomly rejected one day back in the Spring. I set it in front of the fire and lo and behold, when I turned around he had snuggled himself right back in there. He now sleeps in it every night again. We've got the baby sleeping in his crib and the cat sleeping in his bed. We have reclaimed our bedroom and Bumble Town is a happy place. Until about 3:30 in the morning. No - Sammy isn't waking us for a bottle. Tedy comes in for a visit looking for something to eat. Apparently he didn't get the message that Sammy sleeps through the night and once again, so do we.
A few weekends ago, I went out for the night to babysit our friends' nearly-three-year-old twin sons. Andy stayed behind to take care of Sammy. Both of us spent the evening awake, checking in on sleeping boys. I did this by the traditional route, reading a book downstairs with one ear on the ceiling above, poking my head in their rooms here and there to make sure all was well. Andy had the luxury of our video monitor to keep watch over Sammy. But being the good hubby that he is, he decided to document Sammy's sleep for me. We like to take notes on what time he falls asleep, wakes up and eats just to keep track of his patterns. Andy went above and beyond that call of duty, documenting all the different positions Sammy got himself into throughout the night. See for yourself...
7:10 - SLEEP
7:35 - Go Bruins! (Andy was watching the hockey game)
7:46 - Hi Mommy
7:47 - Point (Saturday Night Fever dance move) - Go PATS (Patriots game the next day)
7:58 - Daddy ordered pizza
7:59 - Where's Monkey? (Sammy's favorite blanky toy)
8:50 - Almost an hour (asleep) - Bruins 3-1! (score update)
8:55 - TD Pats (hands over the head = Touch Down)
9:29 - Daddy's listening to the Dead so I have to dance (the Grateful Dead are one of Andy's favorite bands)
9:39 - B's are going to win, Daddy's happy and I'm still asleep
9:49 - I was in this position but returned to this
9:50 - 6-2 Bruins! I wonder if Tedy is in his bed (Tedy the cat is scared of the hockey horn whenever the Bruins score a goal)
10:42 - Dreaming about Patriots touch downs on Sunday (I'm just curious what Andy was doing the past hour instead of drawing)
10:57 - I hope that Trey and Ryan behaved (the twins I was babysitting)
11:00 - I wonder what I will learn tomorrow (awwwwww)
11:29 - On the move
11:31 - I'm scratching my face now but I'm asleep. Daddy is running out of witty things to write. I've noticed that I have grown in these illustrations.
11:35 - Moving again. I may wake up this time
11:38 - Still moving - Kick, Punch & Shake
11:39 - Asleep??
11:41 - Daddy's rocking out to Neil Young - I don't hear it though
11:45 - Moving
11:47 - I rolled over today! I shouldn't move that much because Daddy has to write more
11:52 - Daddy's getting tired. He thinks I'm going to sleep till 5AM. Good night! (he did sleep until after 5AM - and his Daddy got up and fed him)
I am thankful this holiday for such a wonderful, thoughtful, caring and entertaining husband - the best father Sammy could ever hope to have. I am also thankful for a baby that likes to sleep through the night - through lots of wiggling.
Molly & Andy and their son Sam are big fans of spending time with their family and friends, taking in sports or movies, and crossing places off their travel wish list. Although they do like to stay home with their kitty too.
Additionally, Molly has more of a passion for photography and books while Andy prefers to be Concert Boy instead, rocking out to his favorite music. If you like what you see be sure to subscribe to our blog below and come back often!
You can also view Molly's contributions to the group book blog, Quirky Girls Read.
