shall we meet...again?

"Our greatest weakness lies in giving up. The most certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time."

- Thomas A. Edison

 

 Image source: Pinterest

i often wonder why i have a blog. maybe i should be more diligent about posting, but life just sometimes gets in the way. i do regret not being more diligent about it and really pushing myself to post because i've missed so much. i would access my blog and think, "hey, just do it. write something", but alas, nothing happened. i should have shia labeouf'd the hell out of those moments.

"15 months" was my last post. smith is now 2.5 years old. what the hell? do i go back and post all those moments? do i start over fresh? do i just roll with it and pretend like it didn't happen? i'm not really sure. going back sounds daunting, yet i feel like i will regret it later on. this blog has always meant to be more of an online journal--nothing personal, nothing to extreme, just a way for me to document moments in my life whether they be big or small. even if it's just a rant session of how i dislike 99% of my co-workers.

how many times have i done this? the "lets start over" talk with this blog? 2-3 times? maybe. does it matter? guess it depends on who you ask. but here i am doing it again. we may be here again in the future, but i will try my hardest to try harder.

15 months

receptionist: hi! what can i do for you?

me: my baby has a doctor appointment with dr. brockbank, so i'm just checking him in.

receptionist: great! what is his first name?

me: smith.

receptionist: okay...(does something on her computer). what's your sons name?

me: smith...smith taylor.

receptionist: no, your sons name, not the doctors name that you're seeing today.

me: ...right...smith...he is seeing dr. brockbank.

receptionist: (looking confused) okay...and your son's first name?

me: *sign* yeah....it's smith...his first name is smith....smith....

receptionist: oh! oh my goodness i'm so sorry about that! (starts rambling about how she knows another baby named smith).

 weight: 25th percentile // height : 90th percentile.
aka: tall and skinny

i'll give the receptionist a break, she was new and was in the middle of training, and my babies name can be a bit confusing since it is technically a last name.

i feel for this little monster. the moment he saw the nurse, he started screaming.  that poor, sweet nurse is seen as the devil in smith's eyes.  no good comes from her, after all, she is the one that gives him his shots.

getting his weight, temperature, and height was too exhausting for smith, myself, and the wonderful devil nurse.  he screamed until he turned a shade of redish-purple, and giant tears were rolling down his checks so much that my shirt was saturated (i won't tell you about the snot coming from his nose).  finally, after the nurse was done with him and left the room, he calmed down and wanted to play.  we played peek-a-boo, "find your nose", and danced in the room until the dr. came in.  smith may or may not have shut down the room's computer, causing a big ol' fuss.

once the dr. came in, smith was all smiles and giggles.  the dr. played with him and even picked him up and stretched him to the ceiling just so smith could touch the light.

once the dr. left the room, the nurse came back in. as soon as she entered the room, smith glanced at the syringes in her hand and back to her. he tried to butter her up by playing peed-a-boo, waiving at her and saying "hi", and he even attempted to have her hold him.  he was stalling.  after a few moments of them playing together, the nurse said, "okay; lets put him on the table.  you're probably going to want to hold him down."  i'm sure you can fill in the rest.

the nice thing is, smith only cries when the nurses are in the room and, of course, during his shots.  right when the nurse leaves the room, he stops crying.  he then looked up at me with sad, tear-filled eyes and rosey checks and poked my nose and laughed.  i snuggle him just for reassurance that i do love him.

success

i'll never get over the beauty of fall. there is something so tranquil about it even if i know that winter is coming.

lately, i've been thinking a lot about success and how it's measured by others. i don't like that some people base your success of your job title and how much money you make. even if you work at a fast food restaurant making more than enough to live off of, someone may not think you're successful because of the job you have.  but if someone works as a supervisor, manager, CEO, CFO etc., you're deemed as successful, even though that person may had loads of debt they can't afford.

i consider myself successful. not as successful as i would like to be, but i'm getting ahead of myself. i have a great job, a house, a good husband, a child, and great friends and family. however, some people that know us don't consider us "successful" because i basically work in a call center and i'm not able to stay at home with our baby. i hate that our success if based off these two things. it doesn't matter to some people that we do have a house and we can pay our bills and this really, really bothers me. i want others to see my success and not base an opinion based on the little things.

i hope that i'm not judging others based off what they have and don't have. everyone is happy in their own way and with whatever they have or don't have. i've seem extremely happy families with much less than i have and other families that seem to have everything be miserable. i think that we all just need to find what makes us happy and stick with it. i need to stop worrying about what other people's opinions are of me, even though that is always easier said than done.

a boy & his kitty

let me start off by saying that we have 4 pets; 2 dogs and 2 cats. smith loves all our pets, but there is some kind of secret bond between smith and simon. smith adores simon, simon tolerates smith.  

when simon comes into the room, something lights up in smith and he walks/crawls towards him. simon will lay on the floor and smith will tackle simon and just lay on him. simon doesn't seem to mind this at all; he actually seems to enjoy it.

smith will rub his face in his fur (we're glad he's not allergic), pull his ears, pull his tail, feet, whiskers, basically anything that he can get his little hands on. simon just lays there and take it like a champ. when simon is sick of it, it just leaves rather than biting him.

i've never met a kid that likes cats this much and i've never met a cat that puts up with kids the way simon does. if we have all the pets in one room, he will always go to simon first.

when smith was first born and we brought him home, we hung out with smith mostly in our bedroom which is upstairs. simon refused to come up the stairs for the first 2 months that smith was there. once he warmed up to smith, it was a love that could not be broke.

i hope these two remain friends throughout the rest of simons life. maybe they will come up with a way to make cats live forever, cause the idea of that kitty leaving our family is a rough subject.

sunday, funday

for the last month, going on two months, craig and i wake up sunday morning, eat a quick breakfast, and go for a drive through the canyon. we consider this our church since we're no longer practicing the Mormon faith. these drives have been our time to spend as a family, reflect on the past and future, set goals (personal, as parents, and as husband and wife). this is the time that we really get to sit and talk to each other completely uninterrupted about our past week, our frustrations, our accomplishments and our over all feelings. i look forward to these drives each week and have the opportunity to "rekindle", per se, my relationship with craig.

these drives get me through the week. i'm hating the fact that the canyon will close down due to the winter season and soon our sunday drives will cease to exist because of the snow. i hate winter, and my bones begin to ache when i think about it and i can feel those "winter blues" coming on strong.

i need these sunday drives. they are my outlet. i need these little getaways with my husband and baby. i need these conversations i have with craig where he can make me feel better about how work has been stressing me out, or how i wish i could just be home with my baby.

these two boys of mine are the best thing that has ever happened to me. i love that these two can make me laugh at the drop of a hat. with these two around, i never have a dull moment. smith's newest thing is "head banging", or his version of it. this is mostly him shaking his head no to the music, but hey, it works, right?

i hope that we can find another route for our sunday drives once winter comes, but until then, i'm enjoying the quickly changing scenery of the alpine loop.

Smith turns one

For some reason, Smith's 1st birthday was really hard for me. It was a whirlwind of emotions. First, I was so excited; excited for him to go to the zoo for the first time and see all the animals. Excited for him to be growing up so quickly and seeing the world with fresh eyes. Then I was depressed and emotional; depressed that this year flew by and the feeling that I had missed so much in his first year. Working full time is extremely difficult, especially as your baby gets older. You realize how much you actually miss, how much you miss them, and how much they miss you. With these thoughts, the emotions set in. Often, I would have to leave the room or just take a deep breath to keep the lump in my throat at bay. Last, there was me being upset; I was upset with the fact that his birthday party/BBQ couldn't be outside like we had planned because the weather turned on us. Upset that I wasn't able to use all the decorations that I had planned for because of the limited space we had. Upset that I felt sick all night because of my anxiety and couldn't enjoy any food. 

 

 There was a point in the day that I felt like I just couldn't handle it anymore. I get stressed so easily and I felt like everything had gone wrong. I felt like I had failed my son on his very first birthday.

 There was another point that I was holding on to the fact that technically he's only 11 months old and he won't be one until 10:04PM that night. I could not, would not let my baby go.

 Craig was over the moon that day. He's been waiting for Smith to grow up since he was born. He wants to play with him outside and go on hikes with him. He wants him to talk and be able to interact with us a little more. This made me upset because again, I didn't want to let my baby go.

 The stress quickly became overwhelming. I didn't know why I was so stressed out over such a happy day. I couldn't help but reminisce over the last year. I would nudge my husband and say, "Honey, this time last year we were just checking into the hospital. Remember that feeling?"

 My thoughts throughout the day trailed off to that same day in 2013 when we welcomed our sweet, tiny baby into the world. Remembering what it was like to wake up in the middle of the night to find that my water had broke. To looking at my husband with love stricken eyes thinking that we were soon going to be parents.

 Thoughts of each nurse coming in to check on me, each one kinder than the last as my time inched closer. God bless those nurses. I get emotional just thinking about those lovely ladies.

 Thoughts of when it was time for me to start pushing. I began pushing at 7:30PM and each push would bring on a new wave of emotions. I pushed for 2.5 hours and there is a point that I felt like I couldn't do it anymore. The sweet Dr. and nurse trying to tell me how to push, but your numb from the epidural, so I really had no idea if I was doing it right. Then the thought of when I could feel the epidural wearing off and my body kicked in and I just knew what to do. Then finally, the feeling of him leaving my body after 9 long months. That feeling was overwhelming and the best feeling I've ever felt.

Smiths birthday was really amazing, but I wanted something different. I had planned and envisioned something different in my head and when it didn't go according to plan, I felt defeated. Honestly, it was a great day filled with family, lots of love, emotions, and lots of toys for our little man.

When we arrived home that night from his long day of partying, I put Smith in his crib and admired him. As I watched him sleep, I thought about the time I first met him and the worry I felt for him because he had to be in NICU since his wasn't breathing well. As I reflected on these emotions, I checked my phone: 10:04PM. A tear rolled down my cheek. I knew I had to let my baby go. As he slept peacefully, I was being torn apart inside. "Happy birthday, turkey", I whispered as I rub his little head, "I love you so much, it's stupid".

Happy Birthday, Smith!

where i need to be

last week, i sat down to right a post about smith at 9 months and how he is almost crawling. i didn't finish the post since i was at work and forgot to work on it the next day. i kept getting slightly frustrated with the situation of him not crawling because his cousin, who is a day younger than him, is crawling around. i also have a friend whose baby is about a month older than smith and her baby is walking. i was worried that my baby would never get it, but everyone assured me that he would get it.

he turned nine months on may 22 and on may 23, i received this:

i was just getting ready to leave work and i noticed my babysitter sent me an email. she's always been great to send us cute videos and pictures as she takes them. the moment i saw that it was a video, i knew what it was and i started to cry a little. "i missed it", i thought to myself, "you missed something important in your sons life."  i let out a heavy sigh and told myself it didn't matter and that i was proud of him even though i missed a milestone, but as i watched the video, i could feel the weight of the moment on my chest crushing me and whispering, "you're a terrible mom for working full time. look at what you missed. you will never, ever get to see this moment for the first time in person because you work". i knew i was just being hard on myself and i needed to see the moment for what it was and know that because i work i'm able to provide much, much more for my son, but that weight still sat, mocking me. 

after the video was done, i raced out of work and drove home much to fast to see my baby in action. i thew my car in park and bolted in the house to find my baby laughing and playing with my husband. i watched from afar and told myself not to get upset that i missed him crawling for the first time. that i was here now and i should go down play with my family. i took a deep breath and walked down stairs. as i walked down the stairs, smith saw me and smiled something fierce at me and crawled to me begging me to pick him up. he was all smiles and giggles as he crawled towards me and when i sat on the floor to greet him, time stood still. in that moment, the weight of knowing i wasn't there when he first crawled vanished because here he was crawling to his mama...me, showing me what he had learned that day. he could care less that i wasn't there when he first learned to crawl, all he cared about in that moment was that i was there watching him and that i would be on the receiving end to pick him up, give him a hug and a kiss and tell him how proud i was of him (you know, as all 9 month old babies do) and I did just that. 

I will never stop telling my baby how proud of him i am because i am one proud mama. from the little things like eating on his own, or milestones such as walking or crawling. as a working mom, i need to accept that i won't be there for everything he does, but know that i am doing what is best for my family at this time. maybe there will be a day that i will be able to stay home with my baby, but for now, i'm exactly where i need to be.