My Little Brother

Didn't know I had one did you? I do. I have a little brother that I proudly call my God brother. I know the term isn't recognized by..well...anyone...but I still use it. I was so excited when missjan and mr marty asked my parents to be Robert's godparents! Hello - a new baby for ME? OF COURSE. And although that's not exactly what they meant by asking my parents, that is definitely how I interpreted it. My. Own. Toy. Baby.

And boy was he CUTE! Until I saw William's face Robert by far won the prize for the cutest little boy ever. He was an adorable baby, a really cute toddler, AND a cute kid...most kids are lucky to be one of those but Rob struck all 3. He was just so cute I had to hug him and kiss him all the time! The kissing part became a game, as he thought girls were yucky and having one kiss him was just absurd. When he was about 15, though, the game became much more challenging for me. Hard to plant a wet sloppy one on someone almost a foot taller than you and a good 75 pounds heavier. I had to get sneaky!

Just like I talked about on Maizeanne's birthday, I spent a good amount of my time growing up with Robert. We went on the boat, spent most new years' eves together, met up at the Black Eyed Pea on lots of occasions - our families were together all the time. But just like Maizeanne, at some point in there he became more of my friend than my mom's friend's son. I am so incredibly proud of how he has faced life's obstacles with courage and strength - and that despite the pressures of adolescence he never lost sight of his faith. He is such a genuine person and I am so deeply proud to have been able to watch him grow from the precious, sweet boy into the big strong, yet still sweet, man that he is now.

I CAN NOT BELIEVE HE IS 20 THOUGH. It's more shocking to me that he's 20 than it is that I'm 26 or that I have a baby or that anyone else is the age they are, actually. I vividly remember him as a baby and now he's in his 20's?! UNREAL. I'm so excited for his college football career, and I am so excited for the turns his life will take over the next few years. It's only the beginning, and I'm waiting in anticipation to see how things pan out for Rob. I couldn't be more thankful for the little godbrother I have, and I really don't think I could be more proud of the person that he has become. From his days of bobbing apples and busting his teeth on Brian's head to now - it's been a joy to be a part of his life. Happy birthday Rob, hope college is nice to you today :)

Is January Over?

To put it lightly, January has been hell. Not the greatest start to 2011. First I had to hug Austin goodbye again after 2 awesome weeks together, then provision started which was miserable, the baby shuffle was rough, then I got sick and now William is still sick. It's been nonstop and I just need a break from January. I am very ready for it to be over. I was looking in my log of all of my posts earlier and saw that I had quite a few started but unfinished this month, and a few of them were for birthdays. Time just got away from me and posts were put on hold for too long. So - I thought I'd do a birthday update for all of those days that I intended to post and didn't. They will all be mini-posts so that this one doesn't get too long to manage :)

First, January 3.

There is so much to say about today's birthday. When we found out we were having a boy we instantly knew what to name him, because we couldn't imagine not honoring my dad with that. I think to name a baby after someone is one of the highest honors we can give each other. As a parent you have so many hopes and dreams for your unborn or newborn baby, so to give them a name of another person is to say that one of your hopes is that your child would live up to that name. How could we compliment another person more than that?

January 3 is the birthday of the person I was named after, so I know my parents thought higher of no other person. They had 3 children and only chose to name one of them after another person in their lives, that's how special my aunt Mandy is. I recently have seen quite a few posts on facebook about how an aunt is the combination of a mother and a friend, and it could not be truer about my Aunt Mandy. Growing up she was by far one of my favorite people because she spoiled me more than my parents (hard feat, by the way), she knew me better than my friends, and she loved me more than I could even understand. One of my favorite things has always been for her to introduce me to her friends. She used to ask if it embarrassed me or annoyed me, but it was far from it. Her introduction always went like this: This is my niece, my namesake, Amanda. She was so indescribably proud of the fact that I had been named after her, and she wanted everyone to know it. I had no problem having her share this, though, because I couldn't have been more proud of who I was named after. My relationship with Aunt Mandy is proof that miles mean nothing. We've never lived anywhere near each other, and we've only seen each other once or twice a year, but she is one of the most prominent people in my life. I am so thankful not only to have her as an aunt, but to have been given the opportunity to try to live up to her name. I love you Aunt Mandy!!!

January 6

This one is a hard one, and I know that is why I never finished writing the post. January 6 is the birthday of 2 members of my family, both of which I've lost contact with over time. First, it is my step sister Emily's birthday. I met Emily when she wasn't even 3, so in her mind I have probably been around most of her life. I remember riding in the backseat of her dad's car trying to teach her to read, teach her addition and subtraction...I loved watching her learn and I wanted to be a large part of her life. We became very close as she was in elementary school and I very much looked forward to every weekend when she'd be at our house. When I was in college I didn't get to see her as much because I lived out of town, and during my junior year she moved to Arkansas so after that it has been even harder to arrange our plans to be in Houston at the same time. I miss her so much, and I'm so sad that I haven't had the opportunity to be in her life like I had wished I could have been. But I love her very much and I am so thankful that through an unfortunate turn of events in my life I was blessed with a little sister. Hope to see her soon. Love you Emily.

The second birthday on Jan 6 is even harder than the first. My dad's sister always played such a large role in my brothers and my lives. She was by far the most involved person from my dad's side of the family, second possibly only to Mimi. She came to Houston every year for the rodeo, which was highly anticipated for me, and I looked up to her with such admiration. She was so fun that Brian even aspired to be the single-uncle of my kids and Brandon's kids because of how much fun we always had with our single-aunt lolly. If the fun times weren't enough, Laura helped give us more time with our dad by donating stem cells for a transplant when his cancer relapsed for the first time. I have no idea the pain she went under in order to provide the needed cells, but I know she wouldn't have thought twice about it. She and my dad had a very special relationship and they would have done anything for each other. Had it not been for her we could have lost our dad 2 years sooner than we did. He could have missed out on so much and we could have lost out on very valuable time. I only had 13 years with him, so 2 more shaved off of that would have been a pretty large impact. I know that my entire family is forever grateful to her for that.

After my dad passed away my brothers and I still made frequent trips to Dallas to see our family. Mimi, as our grandmother, was of course at the top of that list but the one person to always make sure her schedule was open was Laura. She took us shopping,went out to eat with us, went out to listen to bands at bars - she was really up for anything, she just loved spending time with us. The love was very much reciprocated for all three of us. Unfortunately due to a surprising turn of events after Mimi's funeral, I haven't spoken to Laura in 8 months and I am not sure when/if I will again. I'm not angry; I was for a time but I'm not anymore. I am remorseful, and I would love to know what happened to shape those events but some things will never be known. Regardless of any of that, I will always think of her on January 6 and will always be wishing her a happy birthday.

Onto the lighter side of things, January 24.

January 23 started of a slew of birthdays in my life. I already told you about my wonderful brother Brian, and following him on the 24 is one of my favorite friends Katie. Katie and I met early in high school but we didn't really become friends until my senior year. We were (nerd alert) drum majors together and had a BLAST. By far some of my favorite memories from high school include drum majoring with Katie, sleepovers with Katie, and other random events. I am sure Katie will never forget the birthdays that fall before and after hers because I can't tell you how many times I told her "Oh my gosh, did you know your birthday is the day after my brother's and the day before Liz and James?" I honestly never remembered that I had told her before, and she humored me. Katie is one of those friends that I won't talk to for years, then we'll get on the phone for hours catching up and talking about nothing. We don't need daily, weekly - heck we don't need yearly contact to remain friends. I love Katie so much and I always look forward to January 24 just because thinking of her makes me smile. Hope you had a wonderful birthday Katie!!!

January 25

And like I mentioned, the day after Katie's birthday was Liz's and James'. If you haven't learned from some of my other stories, when I meet someone that I want to be friends with sometimes I just force it to happen whether they want it or not. The first day of 8th grade would be one of those times. I met Liz in the first class of the day and because she was new I decided she NEEDED me. We soon learned that she lived in my neighborhood which was beyond awesome because I'd wanted a neighborhood friend my whole life! We made an instant bond and spent the next few years walking back and forth, walking half way which ended up all the way back to each other's houses, talked about boys and life and problems...and at 10:30 on the night that my dad died the first place I thought to go was to Liz's. She was such a wonderful friend throughout junior high, high school and even college. We veered down our own paths and don't talk as much anymore, but we still keep in touch from time to time and anytime we talk she lights up my days. She has such a bright spirit and you can't help but smile when you talk to her. I am so thankful to have had, and still have, her as a part of my life.

And then there's James. Jamesy poo. Jimmerz. James is the kind of person that fills an entire room with his wonderful personality, and its impossible - IMPOSSIBLE - not to love him. He was 2 years older than me in high school so he originally was in my brother's circle of friends but when we merged our circles James was one of my favorite people to be around. He didn't even have to be talking to ME - just to be around him while he was talking others would brighten my day. We definitely lost touch, but that's ok. I still smile anytime I think of him...and I'll always think of him on January 25.

So, after thinking about the birthdays that I hadn't yet acknowledged January 2011 doesn't seem quite as bad. I have so many people, past and present, in my life for which I can be thankful. Regardless of how rough times can be, I am so incredibly blessed and I am humbled at the thought of the people who have been placed around me in my life. So let the birthday train continue!!!

William's Week

High Points:
He learned to high-5
Low Points:
The rest of the week.

My poor, poor bear has been sick. I blame it 100% on my work. You see, Paula was sick at work but couldn't take time off because we work for slave drivers. Because we are all exhausted, our immunities are all low and therefore most people in the office then got sick. Last Saturday I had the worst "cold" I've had in a long time. I was so dizzy I could barely walk straight, couldn't bend down to pick things up, etc. It wasn't good. So, come Sunday guess who wasn't feeling great? You guessed it, my little bear. :(

It started out just as a cold, but it was a bad cold. I know how bad because I was (and still am) experiencing it. But for him, it was worse because his little body had to fight that much harder. Then came the fever. Then Tuesday came the HIGH fever. By early yesterday morning the fever had subsided but his poor body was just worn out. Yesterday he slept like he was an infant; was only awake for 20 minutes at a time to eat very little and drink very little. In the later afternoon he did have a little spout of playfulness, then followed by another 2 hour nap. He slept most of the night, woke up 3 times but I was able to get him back to sleep pretty easily.

After 3 days at home (meaning 3 sick days for me at work) today he was well enough for day care. No more fever means no more quarantine, but he is far from "well". He was happy when I dropped him off and was excited to see his friend Ethan and Miss Kim, but the happiness didn't last long. At 9:00 they called asking me for suggestions to console him. :( They finally got him to sleep and I told them to let me know if he got unmanageable and I'd go get him. I feel so helpless and I just want to make it better. His poor little eyes look at me with such desperation, as if he's saying "mommy why can't you make this go away?" Worst. Feeling. Ever.

So that's how our week has gone. Yesterday felt like it should have been Friday...but not just tomorrow, NEXT Friday. That's how long the first 3 days were. Hopefully he is better before next Friday because, in case you've forgotten, my little boy turns ONE next Wednesday! What a wonderful William Wednesday it will be!!! :)

Another Late Birthday

In college I really enjoyed economics. Most people didn't, and one of the biggest complaints is the concept of "assumptions". In economics everything is about assumptions. If this, if that, if this, and if this long string of circumstances is true...then.....lots of work and assuming to get to a solution. I enjoyed it, but I did see the fault there. If any one of the assumptions fail, the entire equation is thrown off.

As is the case when I ASSUMED that January 23 was on Monday. Last week when I didn't have a muse for my blog, I thought "on Monday I have a birthday to write about, Tuesday I have a birthday to write about, Wednesday another birthday and William Wednesday..." and so on. Only problem: January 23 was yesterday. So, that means one more missed birthday AND an overlap today. Whatever shall I do?

Guess I'll just start at yesterday and work from there.

I remember when I was a kid there was one week out of the year which Brian loved to torment Brandon about. It was the week between January 23 and February 1. Why? Because for that one week they were the same age. In kid-world that's a big deal. Brandon was no longer the big brother. Brian was no longer the younger brother. For one week they were on even playing fields and Brian LOVED it. I know what you're all thinking - you're doing the math and realizing that if they were the same age for 8 days then that means they are less than a year apart, meaning that my mom was pregnant when Brandon was less than 3 months old (especially considering Brian went past his due date!) I know, you're all thinking she's insane. And I'd have to agree. Lesson to be learned: breast feeding is NOT a form of birth control.

Moving on.

Just like during that one week during the year in which Brian tormented Brandon over their ages, Brian got great joy out of tormenting his siblings. My mom loves to tell the story that when I was a baby Brian's favorite game was "let's try to poke Amanda's eyes out". That game didn't end as I grew up, it just morphed with my age. At one point it turned into "let's slam amanda's fingers in the door" or "let's beat amanda in the leg with a wooden bat". There were lots of violent games to be played, but I don't regret one of them. Brian was only preparing me to be the tough person that I am now, and though I would NEVER say thank you to his face, I do know that I am better because of it.

Plus, I always knew that no matter how mean he may be at home, if anyone were to EVER do anything to me, Brian was the first one to defend my name. He punched his friend Clint in the face when Clint made fun of my "boy" haircut. He threatened one of his best friend's when he asked me to the Homecoming dance. He would turn on a friend in a heartbeat if he felt like that friend had wronged me in any way, and he had my back no matter what.

Brian and I didn't develop our close at-home relationship until his last year of high school, though. Up until then he was mean at home and protective at school. Not a baby sister's favorite combination, let me tell you. I wanted him OUT OF MY LIFE - with all the teenager girl-drama you can imagine. But his senior year of high school things started to change. We gained an appreciation for each other which I don't believe either of us had prior to that, and we really became close. I had always known that Brian would stop at nothing to help me, would do anything for me, and loved me in a special big-brother way - but it was in that last year that we actually developed a personal relationship.

During my first year of college Brian decided to enlist in the Army, which is 2 years later than he should have in my opinion. It was something that always tugged on him - the true inner calling that so many soldiers describe. He's very good at what he does and he enjoys it. It has made me so proud to brag about how great of a brother I have, and then its like icing on the cake when I get to add on that he is a soldier defending our freedom every day. And if all that wasn't enough, can you imagine the warmth in my heart when Brian told me that he had requested to be stationed here in Colorado later this year to be here in support of William and me? Brian hates the cold, so this is truly not for him and I couldn't be more touched.

I know that I spent most of my childhood griping and complaining that he was so mean and that I wished I had a sister, but even then I knew how blessed I was - I was just too immature to admit it. I couldn't imagine life without two older brothers, and the balance between the 2 was key. Brian practice tough, honest (sometimes painful) love and has made me a more honest and much stronger person because of it.

Wish I hadn't had my days mixed up, but I guess that gives him one more day to celebrate himself. Well deserved. Love you Brian, counting down the days until May. Happy Birthday!!!

I made an Announcement

I told Kaila last night that I want to write a book. I've wanted to write a book for awhile, but the problem is that I do not have a topic for my book. I don't have an idea of fiction or nonfiction, motivational or downright depressing, lecturing or musing...then there are characters, conversations, descriptions...I've got nothin.

But I want to write a book.

Should I be discouraged that less than 24 hours after my big announcement I not only have no topic for a book but don't even have one simple thing to blog about? I try not to be discouraged but come on! I've got no raccoon stories, no new twist on why it is that I need an iPad, no plans for the weekend, no news on William, no complaints on the army life that I lead...really, I've got nothin.

I don't even know anyone who was born on January 21! I had some friends in elementary who were twin sisters and their birthday was January 19. But January 19 I wasn't desperate for a topic. (good thing cause other than their names, that we shared 1/2 birthdays, and that they laughed a lot, I wouldn't know what to write anyway) Come on, January 21? Anyone?

Ok, I lied. I do have something to write about. particularly where I will be on Monday at 3:00. But I can't broadcast that on the internet for fear that someone at my job may suddenly think to look into exactly what it is that I do everyday on this blogger thing.

Hmm...what would a person do at 3:00 on a workday that they wouldn't want their job to know about. Hmm. Let's all use our imaginations. Where could I possibly be going? Where would I be going that would require that I buy a new outfit...maybe a professional one...??? What secret rendezvous could I have planned that may or may not have been spurred by the last 2 weeks (and counting) of hell? People, if you're not with me yet shoot me a text message cause I don't think I can hint any better than I already have.

So, I don't have much to write about because the only thing on my mind is my Monday afternoon event. If you've caught on, please say a quick prayer (and repeat every hour on the hour for the next 75 hours) and wish me luck. If you haven't got on, shame on you. I'm being quite clear here. Clear as mud. And once Monday at 3:00 passes (or should I say 5:00, because its expected to take 2 hours) I can move on to a very special January 23 birthday and then be back on with my wonderful random musings. Until then...fingers crossed everyone!!!

Don't Pity Me, Please

I do a lot of whining on this blog, so its kind of ironic that I'm asking you to not pity me. Most of my whining, though, is about petty stuff that you wouldn't pity me for even if I wanted you to like my son not wearing shoes (which he SUCCESSFULLY wore the entire drive to goddard today!!!) or not owning an iPad or other ridiculous things like that. So when I ask you not to pity me, its about the bigger stuff.

Remember when I wrote that I don't know why its so difficult for me to allow people to help? Remember how I said its not because I'm too proud, but because William is MY child and I don't WANT to give that part up? Well, I may not have been entirely right on why exactly it bothered me. I figured it out yesterday in a conversation I had with a coworker about how hard this separation has been on Austin.

Austin and I were married by Father Tom Day who has been a huge part of my family since I was born. Before he went to seminary his family attended the same church that we did, and his wife and my mom became instant friends when they realized they both had 2 toddler sons less than 18 months apart tugging on their legs. When Tom answered the calling to serve Christ as a priest they moved to Tennessee and then back to Texas where Tom is now a priest about 2 hours from Houston. The point here being that Father Tom knows me as well as almost anyone, and knows my life more than most. He and my dad were good friends and he was the priest at my dad's memorial. So having him marry Austin and myself was important to me, and he did not disappoint. He was able to dig pretty deep during our premarital counselling sessions because he knew far more than a run of the mill minister might. He knew my life; my history. One of the most profound things he told Austin was that regardless of what we face in our marriage and our life together, it will all somehow connect to and be affected by the death of my dad. He could not have been more on point.

So I realized last week why it is that I don't want people to help me with my heavy load while Austin is gone. It isn't pride. It isn't stubbornness. It's pity, and it has to do with Father Tom's point. It's the look on their faces when I tell people Austin is leaving. It's the sound in their voices when I tell them how long he'll be gone. It's the touch of their hands when I express all that I am now responsible for on my own. You can call it what you want, but I call it pity.

When my dad was sick I HATED the way people looked at me. I felt like I was a charity case. We were so very blessed in the church family that we were a part of, and I know that we wouldn't have been able to manage everything without their help and support. I know that. I remember the endless donations we received in our church mailbox from other members of our church. I remember all the nights that my brothers and I spent at home eating food that was cooked and delivered by other church members. I remember all the people who so willingly drove me to orthodontist appointments, drove my dad to doctor's appointments if my mom had class she couldn't get out of, people who went to my house and picked up textbooks I'd forgotten then dropped them off at my school. I remember all the ways in which people shared the love of Christ through their actions and I am very, very humbled and thankful for it.

But that look. The look people gave me when I told them my dad had cancer. The look people gave me when I told them I hadn't hugged my dad in 5 weeks. The look people gave me when I told them on Feb 2 that I just knew he was going to die that day. It's an unmistakable look that just makes my stomach turn.

It's the same look I get anytime I tell people I need help because I have too much on my plate. It's the same look I get when I tell people I miss Austin or that Austin misses William or that I need a new job because I can't work these hours as a single parent for the next 9 months. It's the look I feel like I'm getting about 90% of the time these days and I hate it.

This is why its hard for me to ask people for help. This is why its hard for me to openly tell people when things are hard or when I am at my wits end. Because I don't want that look. I don't want to be pitied. I don't want people to feel bad for me or feel sorry for me or any of that. I don't want to be a charity case. I'm tired of it. I spent 4 years having people feel sorry for me and serve me and lend me a helping hand. How can I pay it forward if I am asking for it again?

I know that I should regear my brain to look at it as compassion rather than pity. I should remind myself that when I see other people in similar situations I do not pity them, but I do feel for them and I do want badly to ease their burden. I try and remind myself of these things, I'm just sick of being the one who has the burden. I want to be the one who's life is so put together that I lend my hand to others. At this point I can't even lend my hand to myself. When is it my turn to be charitable to other's?

So please don't pity me. Please don't look at me like your heart is broken on my behalf. Please don't reach out your arms to hug me because you think my life may fall apart. It may; you're right. But please don't show it on your face. That's how you can help me.

William, We Have a Problem

I got unnerving letters from school on two different days last week. TWO! Can you believe it? And would you believe what they say? The first was a letter from Elise, the education director, informing us that William has reached certain milestones and is now ready to be moved up to the "zebra" room. Then the next day we got a letter from the teachers from the next room welcoming William, explaining the transition and what the routine in that room is like.

WHAT?

No way. He's not big enough! He doesn't walk well enough! He can't feed himself by hand well enough! He still needs a bottle! HE DOESN'T EVEN WEAR SHOES FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.

Ok, let me clue you into a little secret. Growing up, this was the worst time of year for me. Teacher change time. Every year I cried. And cried, and cried, and cried. Never mind that at some point one could possibly see a pattern. Never mind that my upcoming teachers were always awesome. Doesn't matter. I still cried obsessively because "I never EVER want to leave second grade!" (or third, or fourth...you get it) And apparently this didn't end in junior high when I finally grew up, it just went to sleep for awhile until I had a baby. And now "I never EVER want William to leave the lion cubs"

I just can't believe it's that time already. Just like everyone says over and over again, it all goes by so fast. I'm loving every minute and I love every stage as much as, if not more than, the stage before I just can't believe its actually time. I can accept it; he is big enough. He walks wonderfully and he feeds himself like a champ. He doesn't NEED a bottle and does very well with his sippy cup instead. And the shoes...well...we'll work on it. God is getting a good, deep belly laugh at the fact that I gave grief for years over babies needing shoes and as a result has given me a child who instantly rips them off. Ethan wears shoes. Helen wears shoes. Why can't William? Again I say, God is getting a good laugh.

That's the biggest news of the week. That, and we had a WONDERFUL weekend reconnecting with our little prince William. Who is, by the way, infinitely cuter than England's Prince William. FYI :)

Low Maintenance Gals

I love my high maintenance friends. Let me just throw that disclaimer out there before I get all of their panties in a wad. I love them very much, in all of their maintenance needs. But sometimes (ahem, a lot of times) I'm very thankful for my fellow low maintenance ladies.

The key person here being Dusti.

Dusti is Kaila's sister, who you may remember a little blurb about during Kaila's birthday post. You may also remember the shout out to her for her willingness to watch William in a crunch last weekend. That's one of the best parts of low maintenance people - they don't need a lot of notice, don't require a lot of preparation - they just go with the flow.

Or maybe that's just one of the great parts about Dusti.

I first met Dusti when her sister invited me to Dusti's house warming party. I had never met Dusti, obviously, and had never been to her house but she was more than willing to have some strange Texans come crash the party. And crash we did. We had an awesome time and were so excited to finally have met some friends. Yes, that's right - I had determined long before Dusti had that she would be one of my friends. End of story. Face it, I was desperate :)

Desperation paid off again, though, because I lucked out in finding another fabulous friend. Dusti calls it like she sees it. She can be painfully honest, but isn't that a comfort sometimes? I'll never wonder what Dusti thinks of me, my new shirt, my weird husband or my adorable baby - cause she'll let me know, whether I asked or not. She's a friend in the truest form of the word and no matter how long its been since we've seen each other I know a few things will remain the same:
1. If she's having a holiday dinner at her house she'll always extend an invitation for me
2. If I need a babysitter on the shortest of notice when her kids both have basketball games and my child screams until his face turns red, she will be there for me regardless
3. If I ask her to "pass me a roll" I better have my hands open wide ready to catch it
4. If I ever feel discouraged that I haven't seen Jodi or Kaila repeat a pair of blue jeans(or not do their hair or forget makeup or in any other way look less than perfect), there is always one other person in the world with as few pairs of jeans as me.
5. If I post her birthday post late because I'm not a weekend blogger she won't be offended or mind, because that's how low maintenance gals are.

Happy late birthday Dusti, and sorry my work had me too tired to even imagine going out to celebrate the beginning of the end of your 20's. Guess I'll have to make a point all year to make it up to you. Love you long time!

Clean Sheets

Is there anything better in the world than clean sheets?

Well, obviously William is. And sex. (threw you off there huh?)
And guacamole.
And snow days.

Ok, maybe I should clarify: Is there anything better in all of housework than clean sheets? And to that I say I think not!

Yesterday was cleaning day at my house, my monthly treat, and clean sheets are even better when they are administered by someone other than yourself. I left a disheveled bed in the morning and came home to a neatly made bed with nice clean fresh pretty smelling soft sheets.

And the sheets? Oh, the sheets. Austin got them for me for Christmas and they are heavenly. They are 1800 thread count Egyptian cotton. He got them from a wholesaler so rather than spending over $200 like Macy's wants, he spent $40. and Oh. My. Gosh.

Yep, I love clean sheets. Even if I don't crawl in them until 12:30.

William Wednesday

All day yesterday I felt like it was Thursday. The only thing that kept reminding me that it wasn't was the fact that I hadn't written about William yet. Thank God for WW right? I know you're just as pumped.

Other than the fact that I have the most wonderful baby in the whole entire world, I don't have a lot to report here. Nor a lot of time in which to report it. The past 7 days have been insanely hectic for me, and the end is still a few days away. William has been a rockstar and, although I can tell he's affected, he has been SO good with all the shuffling around.

I stomped my feet, like I promised I would, as I arranged for his care for the weekend. Friday night Paul's wonderful wife Janell (who was less than a week from delivering their second beautiful daughter - born this morning) picked him up at day care and watched him for the night. I picked him up at 9:00 and we drove down to Colorado Springs to be with daddy. you should have seen the excitement as William leaped out of his car seat into Austin's arms. He had been asleep for 2 hours and it was 10:30 pm, but he was ECSTATIC to see daddy. Saturday I dropped him off at Dusti's house and after the torture of having to walk out of the house with him screaming bloody murder, she said he was awesome. He was just sad to see me leave, but once I was gone he had a blast. When Austin picked him up Eric said, "dude you have the best baby ever". Yeah, we know.

Saturday night Austin left his truck at our house, I drove him back to Colorado Springs then Sunday morning drove back home. I was ready to scream I was so sick of driving, but little William was a trooper. Just chattered away in the backseat, shaking his head side to side, kicking the seat and laughing his precious little head off. His teacher's 16 year old daughter wanted to babysit him Sunday, so we met at our house and she stayed with him. Again, he was screaming his head off as I left. SO hard to walk away from. He was reaching both arms and a leg through the baby gate and his face was bright red like I was abandoning him forever. Broke my heart. But, again, apparently once I was out of sight he was back to playing with his bus and being happy. Sunday night Tiff came over to hang out and stayed with him when I drove to the airport to get Addie, so by Monday William was hell bent on being glued to my leg. I can't blame him, I had shuffled him from person to person and I was hardly to be seen. I felt awful, but all in all he was really good about it. And my friends were AMAZING to help. Really, amazing.

Addie and William are having fun this week and she's being great about sending me pictures every night. This morning I scrolled through my iPhone pictures of him twice...and there are nearly 200 pictures. That's how much I miss him, and how much i LOVE her sending me pictures. He got sick today at school so I had to leave for a bit to take him to the doctor and get him settled, but honestly - still the best part of my day. He just has a stomach bug and needs to lay off the sauce (formula) for a few days, other than that he's ok. Addie says he's still as playful as ever and even wore Layla out so bad that she was hiding from him! So, no little bug is gonna get my little bear down!!!

He's so incredible, if I forgot to mention that. It's funny how something that takes so much work and effort and time and energy and thought can be the only thing to keep me sane some days. But he really is! I'd wash bottles all night, every night in exchange for him and that kind of love. It's intoxicating!!!

I wish I could share more...maybe next week? here's to hoping.

Know where I don't see God?

Remember we all see him in different places, I poignantly noted a few weeks ago, and I love Colorado because among many other reasons I can see God in the mountains.

But I do not see him as I shovel my driveway for an hour, in case you were wondering. That is not one of my most pious moments, and not one of the things I love about Colorado. Add that to the "texas" column of my comparison chart: do not need to own, or even be able to identify, a snow shovel.

And remember how I don't like taking out the trash and would pay a neighborhood kid $5 to have it done for me? Had a kid come and asked me for $30 to shovel my driveway I would have considered it a steal. It is a pain - literally and metaphorically - and I just want it to magically be done for me. Is that possible? Anyone want to come do it for me? When Austin does I make him hot chocolate, so I can promise you'll get at least that much. And seeing as I'm willing to pay some neighborhood punk $30, you'll probably get more than hot chocolate. Just a thought.

Another thought - I did not receive one email with your problems. Not one. That tells me one of four things.
#1 no one reads this blog. I do not believe that to be the case as I have eyes in the back of my head now that I'm a mommy, but if it is the case then I can start writing a heck of a lot more.
#2 My readers don't have problems. I like and dislike this. I like, because it proves me right in saying I would NOT want to grab my problems back if I knew yours, and I love being proven right. I dislike because that just means I want a "freaking bone" thrown my direction even more so now that I realize I am alone in my misery
#3 You did not take me seriously in my offer to be here for you. If that's the case, I apologize. I certainly am here for you, whether selfish motives are at play or not.
#4 your problems are so large that you don't even have time to drop me an email. If THAT is the case, then I sincerely apologize for being such a baby about my problems.

In any case, I'm one day closer to the provision being final and to seeing Austin again on Friday, William was ECSTATIC when I dropped him off at Goddard this morning, and Addie allowed me to come home to a nice clean house last night prompting me to want to hire her full time. So things can't be SO bad can they? Email me and let me find out :)

Wanna trade?

I got one of those inspirational emails today. It's the one, I'm sure you've read 20 times, that lists 45 life lessons that the writer learned by age 45. You know, lessons like "your work won't care for you when you're sick. Parents and friends will. Keep in touch" and other things like that. (funny that at the present time I chose that one as my example huh?) So...life lesson #40 made me stop and think.

If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.

So, while I'm wallowing in self pity here I can either say A. no, i don't want mine back I can guarantee it. or B. wow, their lives must SUCK.

So, in an effort to make myself feel better, please share your problems with me. For my sake, please. Email me all of your problems. Really! Your marital problems, problems with kids, financial problems, work problems...I wanna hear it all. I will read it all with my sincerest heart, I will reply with advice that can only be offered by a professional because if psychology 101 wasn't so dang boring I may have stuck with that and actually be a professional right now, and I will be here for you. Really, I will. Plus, along the way maybe I'll stop feeling so darn bad for myself. So I had to spend an hour shovelling my drive way, twisted my knee and strained my shoulder. So I had a sick baby. So my husband is going to war. So I'm the lowest paid person in my department yet feel like I live here. So I have no time to finish my poor baby's first birthday invitations. So my house smells like vomit mixed with dog pee mixed with cat food mixed with baby formula. Come on, you've gotta have it worse.

Let me have it. Put me in my place. Force me to scramble trying to grab my own problems back and run for dear life. I double dog dare ya. That, or I'm on my knees begging you. Whichever spurs you to write that email.

A Real Life

Reality TV can be so ridiculous, yet so awesome. It really gets to me.

American Idol makes me want to sing. So much so that if I'm in the house alone, sometimes I'll just start belting out touching, moving songs as if I'm performing. And as if I sound like Carrie Underwood.

Dancing with the Stars makes me feel like I, too, am light as a feather and could glide across my living room floor with my back arched and arms stretched wide.

Hoarders makes me want to clean. Obsessively.

The Bachelor...well, that is not reality. So it doesn't make me want to do anything but laugh.

And the Biggest Loser...that makes me want to hit the gym 10 times/day, eat nothing but fruits and veggies, and share my life story on why I was overweight with the whole world. Ok, not the last part, but the first parts for sure.

I hadn't ever seen the show before, but for some reason I decided this season I would start watching it. I'm really not sure what is enthralling about it or what makes it a good show...I mean you just watch people work out and watch their trainers yell. That's it. But its so motivating! It also makes me want to hug the trainers here at work for never yelling at me that way.

So, thank you reality TV for putting a fake spin on my real life. I am not carrie underwood. I am not Emmitt Smith. I am, thankfully, not vying for Brad Womack's heart, and I do not weight 500 pounds. But thank you for making me feel like I can be all of those things.

William Wednesday

I can't tell you the number of times I wanted to get on the computer last week and write about William. But I was having too much fun watching him and playing with him to spare the time. It was an awesome week! Go grab a cup of coffee and settle in, I've got lots to share.

I'll start with Christmas - what a blast!!! We had friends over for dinner on Christmas Eve and William behaved like a little angel. One couple had a baby that is roughly William's age and it was fun to watch them stare each other down, touch each other, and steal toys from each other. I didn't get to spend much time with them because I was in the kitchen, but William was enjoying himself right up until bedtime. Then he was a MONSTER. He did NOT want to go to sleep! We had to leave him in his room screaming as we went downstairs and tried to ignore the noise. His late night lead to him sleeping in which was just torturous for me. I wanted to see how he'd like opening presents! He finally woke up and had breakfast and we got to the present-opening around 8:30.

He wasn't interested in opening presents, but loved playing with them once they were opened. He pulled tissue out of bags and would rip the paper up once we had torn it off the boxes, but he never pulled any presents out of their packages. So, we did a lot of unwrapping :) He loved all of his toys though! Once we'd open a new one he forgot about the one in hand and moved on. He especially loved daddy's wrench set...oops! :)

Christmas was also fun because it was the beginning of 8 days of the 3 of us being together with nowhere to be and nothing to do. It was AWESOME! For Christmas Austin's unit collected donations for families with young children - I am not sure how the selected the families to donate to, I assumed it was on a need base or a nomination base ,I don't know, but somehow we were selected. I was very touched at what they gave to William. Anyway, one gift he got from them was a toy school bus that has 4 various sized balls, all in different colors. The school bus has a hole in the top that senses which ball has been dropped in it, then it will say "the red ball is in the bus" or something of that nature. For the first few days all William knew how to do was open the door and let all the balls roll out. Then Austin or I would put the balls back in the bus, one by one, before he's release them all again. He really seemed to enjoy the game, so we played it, and in a matter of 3 days he had figured out how to get the balls in on his own. I had read he was getting close to the age of "putting things together or where they belong" so I suppose he's right on track there. He also has started trying to stick his elmo bath clings onto the wall after he pulls them off. It's pretty impressive to just see him one day do something that he's never known how to do before. And equally enjoyable for me is the fact that now his toy bus can occupy him for a good 20 minutes so I can cook or eat or go to the bathroom or do something. He also has a dinosaur toy that has 3 holes for balls to be inserted into, and he's enjoying exploring that as well.

His walking is moving along and now he walks everywhere in our living room. He never crawls at all downstairs, actually. He still crawls when he's in his room, which I find interesting. I'm not sure if its because he's spent less time playing and exploring in there so he's less comfortable or what. But when we're downstairs he's a full time walker. His teachers were so impressed - he left for Christmas a crawler and came back a walkin' fool!

last Tuesday we went to Lil' Monkey Bizness with Janell and Brooklyn (Paul had other obligations), my boss Dana and her son, daughter in law, and grandson. Her grandson is right in between William and Brooklyn's ages. Lil' Monkey Bizness is similar to Gymboree or other play gyms for kids, the difference being that it is all open play. They don't have structured classes or memberships, you just pay each time you go. Tuesday nights they are open later and have cheaper admission for "family night" so it cost us $3 for 2 hours of William's entertainment. (could have been 3 hours but he was exhausted) We started out playing in the "crawlers" area but William's daddy was far too adventurous to stay there. He caught one glimpse of a large blow up slide (kind of like a moon walk) and decided William needed to go down the slide. I would NEVER have thought to take a 10 month old up there, but I'm not a dad. Janell and I laughed at how the dad's are so much more daring with the kids than we would be. She said when they had gone before Paul had been the same way with Brooklyn, but Brooklyn didn't seem interested. She just wanted to play in the little tykes play houses! William, however, loved the slide! After a few trips down the slide he started walking over to it himself and trying to climb up there. luckily he can't get up on his own or it could have been dangerous! (says the mom)

I feel like I have been secretive on the picture-sharing lately, so I'll share some from our wonderful week together. I know there are plenty of stories I'm forgetting to share...like William dumping out a bottle of jet dry, a bag of mini yukon gold potatoes, climbing onto the couch on his own, and other things...but there were just too many events to document. I really should have been blogging nightly! A day in the life of an almost-one-year-old...I could write a whole book! I had such a great time playing with him and he really seemed to enjoy our family time too. We had a wonderfully blessed holiday, and I hope you did too! And now...enjoy the pics!

looking at his daddy doll:

Playing at Monkey BiznessDumping the baby potatoes

Throw me a Freaking Bone Here

I love that phrase: throw me a freaking bone. I don't love having to use it because it means that you're stretched so thin that your once blubbery belly may tear apart. But I do love the phrase.

I think I've mentioned that I'm a planner. So in my infinite wisdom about 5 seconds after I accepted the fact that Austin was going to be deployed I begun my planning. I have a very demanding job and at key points in the year I have to work insane hours. So, how does one do that as a single parent? I was on a mission to figure it out.

I came up with a plan. I would buy plane tickets for friends/family to fly up to Denver, feed them, house them, let them sleep in and relax while I take William to daycare, then have them pick William up and do his night time routine with him. This way I'm not having miscellaneous local friends trying to juggle their own lives and William. During less busy times I will rely on those friends, but when I have to work until midnight I need someone who doesn't have other obligations. Next step: find the most demanding times, get down on my knees and beg for favors.

I do not like asking for help. It's not beneath me or anything like that, I just don't like it. Especially when it comes to William. He is MY child. Not only is he MY responsibility, but being with him is what I WANT to do. I work to provide for him; I work to save for his college, clothe his precious little heiny, etc. But I did not have him to shuffle him between various other people while I slave away at work. There has to be a balance somewhere. So, asking for people to help me take care of my child isn't my favorite thing to do. However, I did it. I let me boss know that I would have someone fly up for one week during each of our provisions, which is 4 times a year, and then if other needs arise through the year I can make more arrangements. For now, its just those 4 weeks. She wasn't overly thrilled that I wasn't offering more, still isn't as a matter of fact, but I'm not thrilled that I'm offering anything. SO - it is what it is.

For this provision, the plan was as follows: provision starts on Thursday, but I won't be working late. Friday Austin would pick William up and be home for the weekend, I'd work as late as needed through the weekend. Addie is generously giving a week of vacation time to fly up here on Sunday evening and will pick him up throughout the week so I can be at work as much as they need me. Our goal is to be done by next Friday, but if we aren't we'll work Saturday and Austin/Addie would take care of William again.

Please, please keep in mind that I hate this plan.

Now, please close your eyes with me. Picture 2 beautiful, majestic rams. See their pretty horns curled backwards. Imagine them running across a field RIGHT AT EACH OTHER. Envision them ramming their heads against each other's over and over and over and over...yep, you get it. Now imagine that both of those rams have black and yellow hats on. One with the western union logo, one with the army logo. And that, my friends, is the best picture I can paint of how I feel right now. yesterday Austin called to let me know that he can't come home this weekend. ONE weekend Austin is working through his entire training. And it happens to be the ONE weekend I have to work. Like I said, throw me a FREAKING BONE!!!! is this a competition to see which job wins? Cause last time I checked, you can't tell the army no. So the army wins. Any questions?

My wonderful, beautiful, brilliant friend Dusti is going to help out in a huge way on Saturday and I haven't worked Sunday out. I will be stomping my feet as I do because I just don't want to have to work it out at all. So, this is me whining. I think I'm done now ;)

Sometimes I Have Thoughts

I just want everyone to know that I am phenomenally better at this army-life thing than I was at this time 2 years ago.

2 years ago this week I dropped Austin off at the airport for his 6 weeks of training, which was then followed by 8 months in Iraq. I was a disaster. To give an example, my brother's birthday is January 23 and I didn't even call to wish him a happy birthday until after our other brother's birthday which is February 1. I don't ever forget to call my family on their birthdays, and it wasn't even because I forgot it was his birthday. I remembered. All day I thought about how it was his birthday and I should call. Same thoughts the day after and for the next 2 weeks. I just never called. Why? I didn't have the energy to talk to anyone. Bottom line: I did not do well.

I decided very early in that deployment that I was going to keep a journal. I bought a cute spiral bound journal with a pink plastic cover that had felt flowers on it. I also had a special purple pen that was designated as my journal-pen and was only used for writing. I was so full of ambitious thoughts that someday this journal would be inspiring to someone going through a deployment that I even titled the thing. The front page had a nice, pretty title with the dates of the deployment written on it. Little did I know that 3 months into it I'd quit writing because my thoughts were just too dull and depressing.

I wrote every night for the first 3 months. Every night. And every night I tried to be positive and optimistic, with this outlook like "today was gloomy but tomorrow...tomorrow is going to be better". That sort of optimism only works for so long because how encouraging is it to read every day that the day sucked? Doesn't help. And didn't help to write it, either. So, I quit. I found that journal about 6 months ago and laughed at the thought that I'd ever let anyone read it. I had thought that maybe one day I'd have a friend with a deploying husband or maybe I'd have a daughter who would marry a soldier and need encouragement during separations. (I am VERY hopeful that when my daughter that I don't have is married to a man who is probably also unborn, we are not in a time of war and that therefore their only separations will be for trainings. or maybe I'm just hopeful she doesn't marry a soldier. my hopes for my unborn daughter are a little blurry, sorry) In any case, as I read through my journal I realized that if a friend or daughter or someone married to a soldier was in need of encouragement, my journal would serve the opposite purpose. So, I trashed it.

I no longer have a journal at home because I think it'd take a lot of energy to have a home journal and an online blog. I only have so much energy and I choose to channel it to you, my readers. Be thankful. Also be thankful that I wasn't so generous with my thoughts 2 years ago :) The point of all of this being that because my thoughts are written for your morning enjoyment, and because I do not have a personal depressing bright pink journal on my nightstand(seriously how does someone turn a bright pink journal into depressing???), I feel that I need to warn you that sometimes I may have thoughts. I may have sad or depressing or gloomy thoughts. I don't right now, which circles back to my statement that I'm much better at this army thing now than 2 years ago. Or maybe I just don't have any time for gloom in my busy world, I don't know what the culprit is. All I know is 2 years ago my daily journal was nearing scary and now it is still light hearted and has attempts at humor. Gold star for me.

But, in the event that those sad thoughts do surface and do need to be released, please take them for the moment they were written and know that moments pass. Don't be sad or scared or worried or call up the troops to check on me. Moments come and go, but all in all I am much more stable than I was 2 years ago. I'm stronger, I'm braver, I'm happier, and I'm more confident. All of that plays into why I'm better at this life than I was last time. So...if, most likely when, I do have to use this blog for that purpose...please excuse the mess. I'll be sure to make up for it soon after, I promise.

Until then...happy monday! Oh, and I found $50 this morning when I switched purses. It's a good day :)