Tuesday, June 30, 2009

A Letter and Prayer from a Mom

Dear Buddy,

It's 2 am. I slipped away from laying you in bed with Daddy to pump real quick because you've been attached to me (literally) for the past few hours. It's dreadful (not you being attached to me, but); this morning you woke up sick.

I guess I knew eventually we'd have to go through this. I was just hoping since you've been taking breastmilk for nearly 5 months (happy b-day on Sunday) that you were pretty much invincible. But both sides of the extended family have been sick from cousins to grandparents; and so I suppose it was only a matter of time.

Fortunately it's not swine flu, or flu-flu, or anything that appears to be life threatening. But your father and I might die of broken hearts listening to your tiny cough and wheezing-sneezing. I feel so helpless. I don't know how to make it better. I feel like all I can do is hold you, and that isn't even enough.

I've never seen you sleep so restlessly.
I've never seen you so uncomfortable.
And I haven't felt like I let you down this much since the hospital.

The doctor said to it looked like you were "trying to catch a cold." It looks like you caught it...

Please forgive me for my missteps and fumbling as I try to figure out what to do for you. I don't mind being up with you. It just breaks my heart that you're having problems sleeping, and that you're not getting the rest you need.

You're just so small, and so sad right now.
Please help me find a way to make it better....

Mommy loves you,

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Best Pictures Ever



Thank you Allison Davis Photography.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Nostalgia is the New Black or "I'm so glad when Daddy comes home"

Before I delve into this post, I did want to mention I just updated some pictures of Holden...And in addition to this cool picture of the best baby mullet ever:
You'll also find some cheery ones of my little guy and tummy time (like this one below). Click here for details:

OK, so outside of doing a lot of pic-posting, I've been getting a little nostalgic lately. Did you read my post on my amazing Grandma?

And father's day is approaching. Last year I bought a card for Danny (as a joke) not realizing I was preggers at the time. Hmm, joke was on me (well, my squishy belly at least.)

But I think it's only fair to pay tribute now (Holden and I are headed to St. George today, hoping Danny will join us shortly) .... to the two greatest Dad's in the world -- my husband and my father. (Not that I'm biased or anything.) I don't feel like getting all mushy -- Becca Winegar (nee' Whipple) loathes those blogs entries, and it is not my intent to be off=putting. But here's a few things I think are really cool about each of them (outside of me blabbing on about the real sentimental stuff).
Spring 2006 - Engagement Photo

Danny -- Love of My Life
  • He's super involved in the child raising. He changes pants (Holden's, not just his own); and when I ask for some time to go out with my lady friends and say "Will you 'tend' tonight?" He responds by saying, "It's called 'parenting' if it's your own." I love that he takes full ownership in our son; recognizing that parenting is a partnership (I could not do it alone.)
  • He's fiercely loyal. He loves his friends, and his family... and would kill tigers for both. Also, he's kind of a Mama's Boy; which is cute since I have a great mother-in-love... but would be a disaster if she wasn't one of the sweetest women in the world.
  • He's a bleeding-heart-liberal. And this isn't just about politics. He's all about helping those less fortunate. Sometimes I think he wants to make a lot of money just so he can give it away to those in need (which I support -- kind of -- but I would also like to throw really amazing parties if we end up down the line with $$$$. Maybe we can compromise by throwing parties for the poor?)
  • He puts up with me. I don't need to go into detail here. You all know I'm a standard deviation from the norm, and my idiosyncrasies move from 'cute' to 'annoying' in minutes...but I have a funny feeling he loves me because of it, not just in spite of it.
Daddy -- The Old Man
  • He's fearless. He doesn't get nervous about ANYTHING, and if he wants something to happen... it does. It's like the universe responds to his thoughts...and I don't think he's even read "the secret!"
  • He made us value "W.O.R.K." And yes, in my youth, I very much felt it was a four-letter word. But we were mowing the law before we had graduated from primary, took summer jobs teaching swim lessons and my freshman year of college he actually gave me a "job" at his company's Provo office for Christmas. It was truly the gift that kept on giving...I am much more grateful now then I was in '95
  • The Old Man is also where I got my love of politics and current events -- Speaking of, Can you believe the Iranian Elections!?!?! Holden and I were practically wearing green (I hope that statement doesn't come back to haunt me in 10 - 15 years when I run for SLC Mayor.)

    August 2006

Anyway, I plan on getting all sentimental and mushy in their Father's Day cards (if it comes to me)... otherwise, Happy Father's Day you two. I'm a lucky girl.

Friday, June 12, 2009

Whatcha Been Up To?

Well we don't have much time, so I'll just tell you about me (us). ;)

Poolside Baby
Mr. Holden, we've been busy haven't we? Prior to all of this rain, we'd been living it up at the Grandparents' pool...which includes naked time for you:
The Equation? (shade+blanket) pack-n-play = naked baby time!
And you love it! Plus, you just discovered splashing and even though the result is water in your face, it seems to be a delightful game for yourself.

Escondido is Neato! (More Pictures Here)
We went to California (you really are the greatest little flier), and stayed at the Welk Resort in Escondido. (Your Great Grandma Lambert LOVED Lawrence Welk...though I must admit, the resort felt more "Marriott Rewards"than "Big Band." Which meant "Delightful!")
Your nights are lasting from around 9 at night to 8 in the morning (with a few snuggles and "nursings" in between). And man I love your temperament when you wake up in the morning -- always greeting me with a big toothy grin (minus the teeth of course.)

King of the Road
It's so awesome that we can take you anywhere (except Zinn Bistro - apparently they don't allow children); and for the most part, you're content to be. (Looks like we may be headed to Costa Rica later in the year. Better get your passport.) We had a blast with you at the Bees Game... you did much better at this game then the Mariners game last spring. (You just fell asleep in my arms.)

The Cream Rises to the Top
I'm glad you're a good eater. You're growing so fast. 16 lbs at four months! People always comment that you look six months old.

Shaping Up
You're getting stronger -- you've been baring weight on your legs ('standing' while we hold you) for a while now.

And you're getting more comfortable with tummy time -- I think now that you can really hold your head up and are pushing yourself up onto your hands now makes it more bearable (you also complain less when there's moving pictures on the tv to watch... but mommy is not a fan of you and the tv; so that usually only happens when Daddy's home...apparently exceptions are always made in this home with anything includes the words "sports center." )

And I love our walks in the morning. You in the pack and me trying to 'walk off' the weight...(eye roll). Granted, without giving up my obsession with chocolate chip cookies, carrying 16 lbs attached to my body not going to do much to shred my extra "L-B's."

Man Cannot Live By Bread Alone (But Sometimes I want to try)
In the name of provident living, and so I don;t have to fork out $4.00 a loaf for Great Harvest, I've been making bread (the kind that makes itself, really). The white works fabulously, the wheat looks like a science experiment...and tastes like it's REALLY healthy.

Yes, I really made this... you can too, it's super easy. The New York Times is my secret.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Reflections on a Polyester Shirt

There’s a shirt hanging in my closet. It wouldn’t be a big deal to you. I didn’t buy it at a fancy boutique in So-Ho. Nor does it come with a cool story like how I found it searching through vintage shops along the pacific northwest corridor while touring memorable Nirvana sites (that actually never happened.)

But the shirt?
It’s polyester.
It’s navy blue.
And it has small white polka-dots.
Most importantly, it was my grandmothers.

It hangs in my closet, waiting for its day in the sun. It doesn’t really fit. I’m much too busty from breastfeeding right now, and if I were to don the thing I think I might resemble Mrs. Whitney from Eastwood Elementary fame. (She was the queen of polyester shirts that pulled open at the buttons of her enormous old-lady bosoms.)

The thing is, out of everything in my closet… that shirt probably belongs there the most. Because my closet, once my grandma’s closet, was the original location of that shirt’s domicile.

I bet it has really cool stories.
Like how to make really good wheat bread, made from real wheat my grandpa ground.
Or the secret recipe for vegetable soup… which I’m pretty sure includes a disproportionate amount of real butter.

I bet it could tell me about my grandma’s thoughts on the depression… and why she hung on to glass jars, buttons and sheet music.

Or how to make a party with three people and two apples.
Or the rare arts of crocheting, sewing… I bet that shirt knows how to darn socks.

In the end, I don’t think the shirt was worn very recently by my Grandma. I think, like me, she was waiting for the day that she’d ‘fit’ into it again.

So I’ll wait too.

She passed away a year ago in February. . . we bought her house just a few month’s after. I bet her shirt is happy to be back in this home. I know I am.