Random Thoughts, Holiday Style

Tree up, check.
Stockings, check.
Shopping… mostly done.
Laundry… riiiiight
Feeling festive? Not really.

This is the second year we haven’t had a Christmas party. Last year we went to Vail during Christmas week, and there was no way I was going to try and pull off a party and have everything ready to go for a week away, on top of the money issue. This year, an even better reason to defer – The Boy – but it still feels weird. My heart hasn’t been into dolling up the house since nobody’s really going to see it.

I have always been one to have a lights extravaganza in the front yard; this year, I have no energy or time. I usually have lights all up in the trees, here, there, and everywhere. This year? I have the nativity up and some basic lights, nothing more.

And I’ve been in a blue zone, too. (and yeah, that’s going to be my new Internet home, take a look).

It feels weird. I don’t feel like myself, and I want to snap out of it.

On the other hand, we have the greatest reason in the world to celebrate. If someone had told me at the end of last year that not only was I going to have a couple of dream destinations fulfilled (DC and Ireland), but that we would be parents by this time this year, I would have told them to GTFO and GBTW, EABOD and… yeah. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that The Boy would be here, our lives changed forever, the center of happiness and celebration and light.

Side note: at this very moment, I have put The Boy down on his stomach… he HATES HATES HATES it, with the power of a thousand exploding suns. He needs to do it, for his neck and upper body strength and other wild hair reasons. Any suggestions? I do have the surfboard, but I think it props him more than it forces him to hold his head up. The back of his head is getting a bald spot and I think it’s getting flat, too. Poor kid.

Anyway...

It’s amazing I have to think about that. I never thought that I would be thinking about tummy time, formula, diapers and just the thought of travelling with an infant, and sleeplessness and the incredible journey that this has been. My heart melts when DH is chanting “peanutbutter-jellllllly, peanutbutter-jellllllllly!” while holding The Boy in the air, or just camping with him on the couch while watching a movie. And, while it’s irritating and obnoxious in her shrill NJ voice, I take pride in MIL saying to The Boy over and over, “it’s graaaandmawww” (the look on his face when she practically yells that in his face is priceless), mostly because I was beginning to think that the day would never come.

I am relieved that while he had a really rough start in his first week, he is perfectly healthy. However, I despise that stupid growth percentile that pediatricians foist on parents from the first visit – while The Boy is 8 days older than his cousin J, he was born three pounds lighter and with birth issues, and has continued to be three pounds behind as they both begin their third month of life. That will even out as they both journey into their first year – so why be crazy about it? Why give nervous nelly parents more fuel for neuroses? I just don’t care; I’m happy no matter how tall he turns out or whatever, as long as he’s healthy.

I love my goofy little boy. :)

Send Some Lovin' Jeny's Way

Jeny and her husband are going home without baby after all of those uplifting updates. Send her some love in their shock and heartbreak.

PostSecret Poignancy

Posted on November 29, 2009:

No, I didn't send it, obviously, since we know who The Boy's mother is. But the sentiment expressed runs deep: I want her to know that our son is happy, healthy, loved, and the center of our lives, hopes and dreams, too.

Time's A-Flying

Last Wednesday night, I was having my me-time at Starbucks, addressing Christmas cards, and was updating my journal… well, at least my calendar. I looked, looked again, didn’t believe it… so I went to the paper stand where the last forlorn papers from that morning were sitting.

Yep, it sure was. It was Wednesday. Already. Where in the hell did the week go? I’m telling you, the most surprising thing about parenthood is how the time races when you’re not looking.

Wednesday. December 2. Already.

Crap!

~~

Not only is it December already, but The Boy is now eight weeks/two months old… and just too stinkin’ cute! Eleven pounds, one ounce.

And so strong! Our pediatrician was really impressed. I personally believe that he’d walk right out the door if his kneecaps were developed.

~~

We got the minute entry last week saying that our finalization date is in April. I had hoped, as previously posted, that the court date would be earlier, but also was realistic about how chronically backed up the court system is. But, you know, six months for an adoption, from filing the Petition to finalization, is about right. I’m not complaining.

The good thing is that our case worker called not only to check in, but also to let us know that since The Boy was placed with us at birth, we're eligible under the new court rules for a 90 day hearing, which would bring us back to February. I'm having the office look at it.

I know I’m being ambitious by thinking of rolling his christening and the finalization celebration into one day. Why not, if we can finagle it? Thank God in the morning and party for joy in the afternoon.

Why not?

We’ll see. The best laid plans…

~~

During a break in feeding him last week, I heard that dangerous little gurgle from below, and knew what he had done… But it was that beatific smile of relief on his little face afterwards that made me think, Uh Oh… and I was laughing at his most obvious pleasure that he’d had a bowel movement… now I know what my friends meant by “look out for that smile!”

So, I was cleaning him up, as it an impressive blowout… went to wash my hands, came back, grabbed another wipe just to make sure that he didn’t have the spitup residue on his skin, and also not smell like spitup (which had happened a few minutes before the blowout). My hand registered the coldness of the wipe, but I didn’t warm it in my hands first as I usually do.

When I put that cold wipe on his chest, he completely lost it. His infuriated reaction made me laugh so hard… happy and gurgly to supremely pissed off in .2 seconds! He was so pissed off! I was apologizing to him profusely – I didn’t mean to do it! – but I was laughing at him and his expression at the same time, and I about peed my pants. He’s so funny.

And I just melt when he does his chatters and coos and billygoats, and gives his little smiles; it’s just so beautiful. He is beautiful, and perfect. Truly a gift.

~~

Naturally, I’d love to share pictures more than I do, but I’m sort of gun-shy about that. It’s not a new thought, and I really wish Blogger had the option to change the settings on individual posts so that I can share. I don't want to go completely private, so...

This is why I’ll be migrating over to w.ordpre.ss at the New Year. The new site will have all the prior posts and comments, but they will give me the opportunity to share The Boy with those who have watched the journey from the beginning. It will give me the freedom to preserve his privacy and our own, yet allow me to share with those of you who have been here for the long haul. The criteria will be that one leaves a valid email address and also has a blog or website – not negotiable. I know I’ll lose some folks for those posts, but that’s what I have to do.

It will also be an amalgamation of this and my other blog; it won’t be just adoption topics. You’ll get to hear me blather on about current events, occasional politics, football (and specifically the Dallas Cowboys… yeah, I know, I know), religion, home life, everyday happenings, cooking, and so on.

I won’t be deleting anything here so it will remain a source for those who are on the start of their journey… paying it forward, if you will. I just can’t run two blogs at the same time anymore.

~~

Okay, going to run and give The Boy some tummy time. Happy Shopping!

Tis the Season to be J....ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

How can I not share this?




The Boy refused to budge from sleepyland and resisted all attempts to be wakened; so, Santa improvised, and isn't it just the darlingest pic? I also liked the fact that Santa had a Southern accent and was just the nicest guy around. We chatted for a bit and I had a nice time.

This excursion rocked because I just happened to hit a time when there was absolutely NO LINE. There were kids in front of us, but not many, and the lull happened just as I peeked to see if it was worth it. Got in, nobody behind us, got in and out without waiting. It was great.

Of course, I'll pay for this in the years to come when he's screechy and terrified and just the way the little three year old was in front of us. But today... well, sometimes you're just meant to be somewhere.

Tomorrow is his eight week checkup. I'll post more later.

We Interrupt This Blog for a Very Important Message

I wrangled with this topic a lot over the course of the last couple of weeks. On one hand, one shouldn’t pay any mind to those looking for negative attention. On the other, such blatant name calling and judgmental bullshit needs to be addressed.

I was thinking about writing about the specific issues brought up so delicately (ahem!) by my uninvited guests, but then that lowers me to their game. Why in the hell should I justify myself to people who come to my world and treat me like shit without provocation? I don’t allow people who are disrespectful to me or mine in my own house in real life, so why should I give the time of day to angry, judgmental, irrational people who apparently do not have the ability to leave a non-inflammatory comment on my blog?

These people who haunt other people’s blogs and constantly leave inflammatory comments are generally referred to as “blog trolls.” Disagreeing with someone’s position on any matter is not trolling. However, when someone posts something that is deliberately insulting and inflammatory, with a recognizable thread of some sort of hysteria and the poster has a penchant for picking on the blogger or his/her readers on every post, then yes, that’s trolling.

But if the idiot posting the flame bait is harping on a specific stance on some subject, I like to call such persons “shit disturbers.” Such people (who are a form of blog trolls) cruise blog lists of a specific topic, looking for a fight. And that is what my beloved rude visitors do – they’re looking to pick a fight. They’re also almost always anonymous, which reveals an interesting streak of being chickenshit to boot. Oh, there are a few who have the hubris to leave their trail, but most of them post a name – probably fictitious – but no email and no other internet home. They just drop by to elicit any response, preferably negative, and attempt to bludgeon this community with the emotionally charged opinion they’re going to force on everyone else.

Cram it, I say; keep your opinions (to which you are completely entitled, btw) in your world and stay out of mine. I do not come to your world and call you names and pass judgment on you.

If you are an adult, you should have the ability to post a comment without resorting to insults, belittlement, derision, emotional flame baiting, judgmental blather or hostility.

We all have the right to post on our pages without being bothered by those who make a point to annoy, abuse, threaten, or harass, especially when these people have not been sought out by this community or deliberately provoked by same.

If you cannot control your fingers on the keyboard in my world, go away. Take your poison elsewhere.

Otherwise, I do welcome thoughtful discourse, even if you don’t agree with me or my friends in the community. Rational discussion is useful and enlightening, where both sides take away something , even if nobody ever changes their mind. Some of my best friends are my complete opposite in every way and topic imaginable, and it's the ability to have a rational and friendly discussion that makes it so much fun and makes for such great friendships.

That said:

We now return to my regularly scheduled blogging.

Thankful Beyond Belief

It is appropriate to recall my blessings. I used to be more religious than I am now, thanks to a bunch of sanctimonious people who act contrary to Christian behaviors, but anyway... while I’ve never really gone far from God, I never take for granted the blessings that He has seen fit to shower unworthy me with.

• Even though she’s been gone almost four years, I am thankful that I had the mother I did. I miss her fiercely, now that The Boy is here and could REALLY use her advice and help. Thanks to her, I know how to cook well, to shop well, and I had a great maternal role model. I miss you, Ma, every day.

• I’m grateful that I have a dad who has been a great sounding board with the trials and tribulations in the last couple of months. I get it all out, he opines, then says, “Wanna do lunch?” God, I love my dad.

• Chocolate is the thing that makes the world go ’round.

• I still don’t know how the miracle came about, but DH is the finest man to walk this Earth. One misstep and we would have missed each other. It’s a miracle.

• There are no words to describe my heartfelt gratitude and my admiration for the woman who placed her son with us. Thank you, thank you, thank you. And I am grateful we had the opportunity to tell her that.

• I’m thankful for family and friends who, upon The Boy’s arrival, didn’t flinch; they have accepted The Boy with open hearts and overwhelming joy.

• I have a roof over my head, in a decent neighborhood safe enough that nothing happened when I, in my brain dead exhaustion, forgot to close the garage door overnight last week.

• I realized a dream this year when I went to Ireland with the in-laws. While there was emotional baggage that came out of it, I’m still grateful I even got to go and see my ancestral country.

• In this difficult economic environment, I am deeply grateful that DH has a job and a decent-paying one with benefits. These days, I don’t take it for granted.

• I’m grateful for God’s saving grace, for large and small miracles, for His patience, love, inspiration, and mercy, even though sometimes I can be pretty unlovable. Thank You.
• Cats rule. I have two of them. They rule us.

• There was a time I didn’t think we’d have the luxury of me staying home with our then-future children. I get to stay home for The Boy, and may even work out a way to work from home.
• My antecedents from England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales, Germany, France, Norway and the Netherlands – thank you for coming to this country so that I can call it mine, too.

• I’m grateful for dear friend T, who has saved my sanity in the midst of her own ongoing marital issues. I couldn’t have made a couple of these weeks after The Boy’s arrival without her.
• Kiltlifter beer, how I miss thee… but with The Boy, such pleasures shall be foregone.

• We live in a country that allows the freedom of choice, of religion, of speech, of party. Never forget that there are still countries that jail someone walking the street for no reason whatever.
• We have generations of men and women who volunteer to join our military. Thanks to all of them, past and present, family and friends and complete strangers.

• I would never have been so well informed if there weren’t infertility and adoption bloggers. Thanks to everyone out there for your time and efforts… you really do help others.

• Football should be the national religion. I’ll go into official mourning when the season is over.
• Turkey should not be relegated to once a year; it’s fun to make. However, the thought of roasting turkey in the hellish heat of summer in the Valley…. *shudder*

• I’m grateful for the sunshine that warms my hair, and for the rain that cleanses the desert and makes it smell oh so glorious.

• I’m thankful for seat belts and air bags. My late mother said that if there was even the most primitive of seat belts in 1949, her father would have lived through the car wreck that killed him.

• I’m grateful to those inspired ones who wrote down the Books for the Bible.

• Ectopic pregnancies are strange things – they force you to put things in perspective. It’s a skewed universe where one is actually grateful to have had one.

• Thank God I don’t have to eat pumpkin pie. HATE the stuff. I’ll have chocolate chip apple cake instead. Yum.

• The random eye contact and smiles from strangers always warm my heart – it means there’s still hope for mankind.

• Despite having had my knee reconstructed when I was 19 (and scoped five years ago for cleanup), I am, by some miracle, still pain free. This despite years of hiking for a living, basketball, being overweight, and being told that I have incipient arthritis.

• I’m grateful even for the trolls that haunt these blogs, who, by their rabid attacks, remind me that a) we have the freedom to write what we think in this country and b) those of us who adopt realize just how precious and important adoption—and life—is. Go back and read the previous posts comments for some pretty funny troll-fu. Why is it that they never leave an email or blog link? I’ll post more on that later.

• I’m thankful for you, every one.

This list could go on forever.

Have a safe and happy Thanksgiving!