I am addicted to Hastings.
One, they have coffee.
Two, they have books.
Three, they have comfy chairs that don't come with babbling children attached.
I read books of quotes, books on photography, books about sewing, books for runners. I sigh when I see coloring books that remind me of my childhood. I almost cry when I smell the newness of a crisp new book. I wish I had money to buy mason a math workbook and the animal encyclopedia stickerbook and the book on doodling for boys. I leave a trail of books behind me as I decide that I don't need to buy that book. Tonight, I again came home empty handed. I peeled a book out of my hands at the register and walked resolutely out the door. With a deep sigh.
And now, after being reinvigorated by images of photographic perfection, memories of my creativity-allowing childhood, and a mocha masterpiece coursing through my veins, I will edit some pictures.
But i really wish I had that book....sigh....
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Do you know why I'm really really sad?
That was what mason asked me tonight while choking back tears.
"Why, Baby?" I asked, pushing aside the initial annoyance of him getting out of bed yet again.
"Because I just really like my pillow and I can't find it."
He has this nasty, i mean, nasty, pillowcase-less pillow that is holey and ratty and just terrible. It's not even a real pillow - it's an airplane pillow we stole like three years ago. But he loves the thing. We couldn't find it before bedtime, but I just brushed it off and gave him a replacement. That's when the tear-filled conversation took place. He has since found his precious pillow and will be asleep soon...i hope.
Those moments are good to have. The moments that remind me he's not quite grown up, that he's not completely a big boy yet. There are far too many big boy moments these days...
He lost his first tooth. I picked him up from school and it was wiggling. By bedtime, it was out. The tooth fairy, who made a very last minute pick-up/delivery, brought him 75 cents so he could get an icecream at school.
He can add. I'm not talking 2+2. No. He can add like 14 + 7 in his head. No fingers. No manipulatives. He just counts to the biggest number, then starts whispering as he adds to it. He rarely miscalculates. He can even add 2 digit numbers like 14+19. In his head. It is truly baffling.
He can write sentences like, "dad wuz gowe on a fil chrip." Which translates to "Dad was going on a field trip."
He has the negative side of big boy moments too - a little attitude. Picking on his brother. Not obeying.
But then, he loses his pillow and suddenly he's that little 18 month old in his crib crying for "po!"
Where, where, does the time go...
"Why, Baby?" I asked, pushing aside the initial annoyance of him getting out of bed yet again.
"Because I just really like my pillow and I can't find it."
He has this nasty, i mean, nasty, pillowcase-less pillow that is holey and ratty and just terrible. It's not even a real pillow - it's an airplane pillow we stole like three years ago. But he loves the thing. We couldn't find it before bedtime, but I just brushed it off and gave him a replacement. That's when the tear-filled conversation took place. He has since found his precious pillow and will be asleep soon...i hope.
Those moments are good to have. The moments that remind me he's not quite grown up, that he's not completely a big boy yet. There are far too many big boy moments these days...
He lost his first tooth. I picked him up from school and it was wiggling. By bedtime, it was out. The tooth fairy, who made a very last minute pick-up/delivery, brought him 75 cents so he could get an icecream at school.
He can add. I'm not talking 2+2. No. He can add like 14 + 7 in his head. No fingers. No manipulatives. He just counts to the biggest number, then starts whispering as he adds to it. He rarely miscalculates. He can even add 2 digit numbers like 14+19. In his head. It is truly baffling.
He can write sentences like, "dad wuz gowe on a fil chrip." Which translates to "Dad was going on a field trip."
He has the negative side of big boy moments too - a little attitude. Picking on his brother. Not obeying.
But then, he loses his pillow and suddenly he's that little 18 month old in his crib crying for "po!"
Where, where, does the time go...
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
We saw another side of Grant today.
Grant's "surgery" went very well.
We went in at about 7:15, got him dressed in his little blue gown that looked so cute, and then we waited...and waited...and waited...and waited. Grant couldn't have anything to eat or drink so he was a little less than Mr. Happy, but still good. He even fell asleep in my arms for 45 minutes or so. Finally, about 9:30ish, they explained the procedure, the anesthesia, and, that when he woke up, he would be really angry. In the words of the nurse, he would be similar to the Tazmanian Devil. Then they carried my little baby away. I handled that surprisingly well. Knowing the surgery took about 6 minutes eased the pain (but did give me a moment to pause on the exact amount his doctor would be making per minute...).
Before we knew it, he was safely passed out in our arms again. And he looked so peaceful and dreamy.
Then he started to wake up.
Turns out Tazmanian Devil is an appropriate term. Arms flailing, legs flopping, red-faced screams. Oh, he was MAD! Nothing helped - pappys, daddy's arms, momma's pacing, nothing. Just screaming. But it wasn't scary or anything. I could tell he was just confused and upset by what had happened to him. He wasn't hurting or anything.
After 15 minutes or so we were told we could leave.
He cried leaving.
in the car.
at home.
being rocked.
nothing helped.
Until I convinced him to drink a bottle of warm milk.
In mere minutes, Grant returned and the Tazmanian Devil faded.
Thank Goodness!
The rest of the day has been uneventful. Lots of dirty diapers, not a fan of the three times a day drops, and kind of cranky, but pretty good overall. Now, if I can just figure out how on earth I'm going to keep water out of his ears for the next 6-9 months...
We went in at about 7:15, got him dressed in his little blue gown that looked so cute, and then we waited...and waited...and waited...and waited. Grant couldn't have anything to eat or drink so he was a little less than Mr. Happy, but still good. He even fell asleep in my arms for 45 minutes or so. Finally, about 9:30ish, they explained the procedure, the anesthesia, and, that when he woke up, he would be really angry. In the words of the nurse, he would be similar to the Tazmanian Devil. Then they carried my little baby away. I handled that surprisingly well. Knowing the surgery took about 6 minutes eased the pain (but did give me a moment to pause on the exact amount his doctor would be making per minute...).
Before we knew it, he was safely passed out in our arms again. And he looked so peaceful and dreamy.
Then he started to wake up.
Turns out Tazmanian Devil is an appropriate term. Arms flailing, legs flopping, red-faced screams. Oh, he was MAD! Nothing helped - pappys, daddy's arms, momma's pacing, nothing. Just screaming. But it wasn't scary or anything. I could tell he was just confused and upset by what had happened to him. He wasn't hurting or anything.
After 15 minutes or so we were told we could leave.
He cried leaving.
in the car.
at home.
being rocked.
nothing helped.
Until I convinced him to drink a bottle of warm milk.
In mere minutes, Grant returned and the Tazmanian Devil faded.
Thank Goodness!
The rest of the day has been uneventful. Lots of dirty diapers, not a fan of the three times a day drops, and kind of cranky, but pretty good overall. Now, if I can just figure out how on earth I'm going to keep water out of his ears for the next 6-9 months...
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
a bad case of the Mondays.
I cried like four times yesterday. It was like a rainbow of emotions kind of day, but most of the colors were over in the gray spectrum.
Why the tears? Well,some were appropriate. Some were me just being unusually emotional.
The first tears came when at about 8:05am, I was told the cost of Grant's surgery. No small thing. I thought it was going to be bad, but not...that bad.
Then i had a little money melt down. Somehow all my billpay accounts are missing. So the act of paying bills was just as challenging as the chore of determining how.
THEN, I cried because Grant is so cute and he has to have surgery! I had to sign all these "this may cause paralysis...and even death." papers. I know it's only tubes, but still...he's my baby.
Then the icing on the cake - my computer totally freaked out on me. I was on it, installing some fonts, when grant unplugged the cord from the wall. I have a desktop so the computer instantly died. To make a long story shot, when it restarted, the desktop fonts were all in this boxy gibberish font and everything was just weird. I restarted again. The fonts got weirder. Restarted again in safe mode. Scary SCARY stuff. Then I called my computer genius brother. We tried a few things with the end result being a computer that wouldn't even start up. I hung up the phone with him and called my mom in tears. Like sobbing ridiculous - i-can't-handle -not-having-my-computer tears. She calmed me down. Then Micah called back, we restarted the computer and somehow, by some true miracle of GOD alone, the computer repaired itself back to normalcy. So I cried tears of joy.
Then I cried over the sweet pictures of my boys. And Imagined them getting bigger.
Geez.
It's 6:32 am now. I haven't cried yet. That's good, right?
Why the tears? Well,some were appropriate. Some were me just being unusually emotional.
The first tears came when at about 8:05am, I was told the cost of Grant's surgery. No small thing. I thought it was going to be bad, but not...that bad.
Then i had a little money melt down. Somehow all my billpay accounts are missing. So the act of paying bills was just as challenging as the chore of determining how.
THEN, I cried because Grant is so cute and he has to have surgery! I had to sign all these "this may cause paralysis...and even death." papers. I know it's only tubes, but still...he's my baby.
Then the icing on the cake - my computer totally freaked out on me. I was on it, installing some fonts, when grant unplugged the cord from the wall. I have a desktop so the computer instantly died. To make a long story shot, when it restarted, the desktop fonts were all in this boxy gibberish font and everything was just weird. I restarted again. The fonts got weirder. Restarted again in safe mode. Scary SCARY stuff. Then I called my computer genius brother. We tried a few things with the end result being a computer that wouldn't even start up. I hung up the phone with him and called my mom in tears. Like sobbing ridiculous - i-can't-handle -not-having-my-computer tears. She calmed me down. Then Micah called back, we restarted the computer and somehow, by some true miracle of GOD alone, the computer repaired itself back to normalcy. So I cried tears of joy.
Then I cried over the sweet pictures of my boys. And Imagined them getting bigger.
Geez.
It's 6:32 am now. I haven't cried yet. That's good, right?
Monday, November 3, 2008
Just one more...well, two...for now.
This one is a little pose-ish but still cute...look at their hands.
I love this one. It's just so them! Grant is ALWAYS pointing. I haven't at clue at what. And Mason speaks with his eyes. And they're just...brothers. Sweet brothers.a rare thing.
A cute picture of my own children.
I couldn't decide which I liked better so you got both!
Mason the entomologist.
Here's my son, the bug catcher. He wanted this costume bad. We wandered around wal-mart and target searching for ideas. This was the only idea he liked. Well, he did like the idea of him being an apple and Grant being a worm, but there was a shortage of apple/worm costumes and I was short on time...and know-how.
So bug catcher it was. : )
So bug catcher it was. : )
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