snow day!

Henry is way excited about not having school today.  Also, as soon as he gets up from his nap and eats some lunch, he's going for a toboggan ride.  So far, he's enjoyed toboggan rides but he thinks they are missing a little something...

Many thanks to his Grammy Anne and Grampy Peter for the fantastic birthday gift!

much thanks giving.

I can't believe Henry and I celebrated our second Thanksgiving with our family!  Time has flown by at warp speed.  We had a blast and there was lots of reminiscing about how things were last year - the good and the bad. 

Unfortunately, Henry started coming down with a cold the night before Thanksgiving and he is still not feeling well.  I thought he was a lot better this afternoon but tonight has been an absolute nightmare.  I've been up most of the night with him every night since Wednesday so I was really looking forward to a quiet night tonight.  He's so congested and his poor little adorable nose is so stuffed up that he can't sleep when he is laying down.  He will sleep in his car seat for a little while but it must be pretty damn uncomfortable because it doesn't take long for him to wake up and yell, "Mom mom!  Mom mom!!  MOM MOM!!!" until I come get him.  Then I bring him to bed with me and cuddle with him until it's time to get up in the morning. 

Instead of complaining about the lack of sleep for four and now probably five nights in a row, I am going to focus on the good parts. 

When Henry doesn't feel well, he only wants me to hold him.  Not his gma, not his gpa.  It's mom mom or he's not happy.  There is nothing better than that! 

When he is sleeping on my chest or next to me, I just stare at his beautiful face and am amazed that I had a part in it.  A pretty big part. 

As he falls asleep, he usually needs to be holding one or two of my fingers.  He plays with them and I can tell when he's asleep because he stops playing and just holds on for dear life.  I'm not sure how he has figured out how to have a death grip while fast asleep. 

When he wakes up in the morning next to me, he is really well rested and one of the most cheerful people you will ever meet.  Lots of smiles and giggles and mom mom's. 

He likes to fake cough.  If he hears me cough, he totally mocks me and coughs and then cracks up.  This has come in very handy while he's had this cold.  I can hear his little chest rattle and I can tell he needs to cough but he hasn't quite figured that out yet. All I have to do is cough and next thing I know, he's mocking me and coughing and yay!  The rattle in his chest is gone. 

Even though he doesn't feel well and is coughing and snotty and sometimes has a fever, he is happy.  He plays and laughs and smiles and pretends to feed you a Cheerio but at the last minute takes it back and sticks it in his own mouth and cracks up.

He's more cuddly.  I hate cuddling everyone but him.  I actually wish he was more cuddly.  I really wish it didn't take him being sick to make him more cuddly. 

Henry and I have a lot to be thankful for, even being sick.  I guess. 

little birdie is about to leave the nest.

Henry loves walking around the house with his alphabet train.

From November 2011

I apologize for the shakiness, I was walking around with the little handheld camera.

no photos today.

Every once in a while the lack of sleep catches up with me and I have.  to.  sleep.  Today is one of those days.  This afternoon I had my mom watch Henry for a little while so I could run about 5 bags of his clothes to a local homeless shelter for families and pick up some paint for a little furniture project.  On the way home I was sitting at a red light and thought, "I'll just blink extra long.  Just for a second..." and then the car behind me was honking because the light turned green and I was still blinking.  Ooops. 

So no birthday party photos today.  Sorry! 

This morning Henry called the cat over to him by making his version of a "meow" sound and patting the couch, just the way I pat the couch when I want her to come over.  It was adorable and amazing all at the same time.  And it worked.  She was stupid enough to fall for it.  She came over and was immediately tackled with a face-full of Henry right into her side. 

and then one happened.

I felt like I was doing so well with posting.  Every day.  Sometimes twice a day. 

And then Henry turned one.  And I am pretty sure I have spent every moment since then chasing him and laughing with him and having a blast. 

Hopefully he'll actually take a nap sometime in the near future and I'll be able to post photos of his party and some photos of him playing with his new toys!

I still can't believe that just one year ago my life was so different than it is now.  Everyone told me, "Everything changes when you have a kid.  Your life will never be the same."  Because everyone said it, I got annoyed and told myself I would be the same person, just with a little version of myself and more luggage when I traveled and less sleep.  The thing about these cliches about parenting is that they are right.  The other day I almost punched myself in the face when I was talking to a friend who doesn't have kids about changing diapers.  She said she would never be able to change a poopy diaper because they're so gross.  I came very very very perilously close to saying, "It's different when it's your kid."  I caught myself and instead I told her that poopy diapers are disgusting and shit is gross whether it is your kid's or somebody else's kid.  But when it's your kid, you do it because they need you to do it and you will do anything for them.  I can't even begin to list the things I have done that I never thought I would do.  But when I look at Henry, I'm 100 percent sure the list hasn't even begun. 

It's so crazy to think that a year ago, I was in a hospital bed waiting for my life to change.  Wanting him out of my body and so excited to meet him.  But I had no idea what I was in for.  I couldn't begin to imagine what my life, our lives, would be like in one year.  Even if I tried, I never would have imagined it would be this good.

sigh.

I'm planning a little get together for Henry's birthday on Saturday.  I am so excited to celebrate the first year of Henry's life and I know he is going to have a blast with his friends and family.  What I didn't expect was that it would bring up so much stuff for me.  So much has happened in the past year.  So much good and unfortunately, so much bad.  Most days I can focus on the good because it is really damn good.  I still have moments where my breath catches in the back of my throat because I still can't believe this is my life. 

The first year is obviously full of firsts.  Most of these firsts that Henry and I have experienced together have been amazing and thrilling and terrifying, all at the same time.  Some of them have been laced with sadness and while I put on a happy face for Henry and those around us, I'm dying inside.  This isn't how it was supposed to be.  And then I feel bad for feeling that way because truthfully it has been really fucking good, so what do I have to complain about?   

Nothing.  Everything.  I've decided that life is like that.  I am not in a place where I can say I'm glad this happened and that it's how things were supposed to be.  But I can happily say that I have done the best with what I was given and the sad moments occur less and less as time goes by.  I also feel like getting through his first year with flying colors has given me confidence and hope and faith for the future.  And really, all that matters is that Henry is happy.  He is healthy.  His cuteness is not a fucking joke.  He is everything to me and I would do this all again to get to spend one moment in his presence.  Well, maybe not all of it... 

Anyway...
 
Now I just hope I can get everything on my party planning list done before Saturday afternoon.  I'll be sure to post photos of Henry eating his first cake!  Yummmmm....

what a difference a year makes.

This photo was taken one year ago today.  I was so tired of being pregnant.  I kept going on walks to try to get something going.  It was really cold that day so my parents and I ended up going over to the conservatory on Belle Isle.  By that time I wasn't going to work anymore because I was so uncomfortable.  And yes, I'm wearing leggings in this photo.  I wore them a lot.  Did I mention how uncomfortable I was by this time last year?  This is one of the few photos I have of me while I was pregnant.  After my life changed in August, I didn't want anyone to take photos of me.  I just felt ugly and gross and it wasn't a time I wanted to remember.  Luckily a few people told me to shut up and smile and I'm so glad they did because I look at them and am amazed at how different and wonderful my life is now!  I don't wear leggings anymore!

 

(Okay here's a small confession, two weeks after Henry was born I was able to get back in my regular clothes.  Yay!  But I kept those damn leggings thinking I could get away with wearing them.  They were soooo comfortable.  But no.  I couldn't.  So I didn't.  I swear.)

And here we are today.  This morning at 5:30 a.m. I was entertaining my almost 1-year-old son with Cheerios towers.  I made the mistake of stacking some Cheerios a couple days ago and now he wants me to do it all the time.  I guess it wasn't a mistake because he loves it but have you ever tried to stack Cheerios up one by one?  It isn't as easy as you might think.  Oh and you have to do it really quickly because a little hand is about to come and knock down your hard work and eat it and then laugh really hard.  My record is a 7 Cheerio tower. I didn't get a photo of it.  Bummer.

And then here is a photo of Henry and his best kitty friend, Barbaro Garbey.  She was just minding her own business watching her chipmunk friend on the front porch when Henry decided to join in on the fun.  He usually likes to watch the chipmunk too but if Barbaro Garbey is there he'd much rather practice "gentle" by smacking her upside the head a few times.  Don't worry, when he gets too rough I yell, "RUN BARBARO!  RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!!" and she usually just gives me the stink eye and waddles away.   

dear henry,

I'm not sure why your internal clock is telling you to wake up between 4 and 5 a.m. every day and then practically fall asleep in my arms after breakfast, but I am asking you very nicely to please reset that internal clock.  Mom-mom isn't very good at falling asleep lately, she has lots of crazy shit going on in her brain, and she usually falls asleep around 3 or 3:30.  I know you don't wake up because you are hungry or because you go to sleep too early in the evening because there have been a couple nights this past week where you have stayed up late and eaten late and you still wake up at 4 a.m.  So yeah.  Please look into that, especially since clocks are changing on Saturday so 4 a.m. will be the new 3 a.m.  I seem to remember there was a time in my life where an extra hour was the best thing ever.  Now it's just another hour I don't get to sleep.  So let's just wake up at 7 and forget that morning nap!

One more thing, the next time you decide to blow raspberries in my face with a mouth full of rice cereal/squash/corn mixture, I probably won't laugh so hard.  I mean, I might because it was so unexpected and the looks of surprise on both our faces was funny.  And it's just rice cereal so it's not like I minded when specks of it dried on my face and hair and hours later I was still picking it out because jumping in the shower seemed like too much work.  Seriously though.  It's cute but it's not so cool.

Wait.  One more thing.  I promise this is it.  I know you had a rough night tonight and I'm not sure why.  I know you don't have words to tell me your tummy hurts or your mouth hurts or you just feel like kicking someone's ass.  But here's the thing, when you're supposed to be going to sleep and you're in your room screaming bloody murder, I'm not going to go in when every few minutes you take a break from screaming to say in the sweetest voice ever, "la la la la mom-mom la la la."  That little break there let's me know you're fine and that you're a big faker and you're just pissed that you spit your pacifier out for the 10th time and I stopped replacing it.  And don't try to convince me you weren't tired because you could hardly stand up and you tried to cuddle with the big plastic container that holds a bunch of your toys.  And when I finally did take you a replacement pacifier, you fell asleep before I could run out of your room again. 

Henry, I love you more than anything and you make me so happy to be alive. 

Love,
Mom-mom

hipster haven.

I recently took Henry to Impression 5 to check out their baby play room.  It was a really cold, rainy afternoon and we just needed to get out of the house for a while.  I was really impressed by the room.  It was full of fun things for him to do and he wasn't shy about exploring the different areas.  Since it was such a shit day outside, many many other parents decided to bring their babies to the play room.  I was miserable.  It has been really difficult for me to meet other parents.  I have found that being a parent is very lonely.  At a time when I feel we as parents need to support one another, instead we are constantly eying each other up and judging everything the other does.  I wish I could say I don't do it but I do.  Worse yet, I feel it from everyone I meet.  As you may know, hipsters hold a special place in my cold dark heart.  Let's just say it isn't a good place.  Hipster parents are even worse.  I had to make a new compartment in my cold dark heart just for them.  At least 5 parents told me how advanced their child was.  I didn't even have to ask!  Then one of the hipster dads who had a few minutes before nonchalantly mentioned that his kid is way too advanced for this room, asked me how old Henry was and I told him 11 months.  He said, "Oh that was the age my son was when we started to worry that he wasn't crawling.  So much for milestones!"  Wait.  He's advanced but now you tell me he didn't crawl at 11 months?  There I go judging.  But really?  I just said, "oh" because what I really wanted to say was, "It's okay to teach your kid that taking a shower and washing your hair is a good thing you dirty dirty hipster."  I thought maybe I would make a connection with a mom who was wearing a Detroit Lions shirt.  Yay!  My people!  Wrong again.  Her hipster friend came over and made a snide comment about her shirt and I heard her say, "It was only a quarter at Goodwill!" (Nothing against Goodwill, I just love the Detroit Lions and I thought maybe we had something besides Goodwill shopping in common). 

Basically it was an awful experience for me.  I wanted to hide from all the parents because each time I tried to say hi or make conversation, I think they sensed I was judging them too and had nothing to add to their conversation about latching and home births. 

Maybe it was because while Henry was playing with this toy, I couldn't stop talking to him about all the balls bouncing to the left and to the right.  I was cracking my shit up and he thought it was funny too although I think by the time I took this photo he was a little over it.  Hipsters don't think balls are funny maybe?

I realized that I was okay with not being one of their crowd when the father of the advanced kid who couldn't crawl when he was 11-months old pretty much yelled for the entire room to hear, "ISHMAEL!  We have to go now because daddy has to get back to work on his thesis!" 

Oh blue-eyed, blonde-haired Ishmael.  If you ever need to have some fun, feel free to come over and talk balls with Henry and I.  Good luck kiddo.  You're gonna need it.

(I do plan on taking Henry back to Impression 5 because there really is a ton of stuff for him to do and he had a lot of fun.  I overheard one of the employees say that the room was basically empty until 10:30 so maybe we'll go at 10, have some alone time and then when more kids come Henry can play with them for a while and then when I lose my shit at 10:35 and want to roll my eyes very dramatically right in the faces of all the parents and instead we should just leave, at least he's had some interaction with other kids even though they are dirty dirty miniature hipster kids.  I think it's okay for hipster kids to be dirty though.  Kids should be dirty.  Well, I mean, I guess there's a limit there, too.  There I go judging again.  Maybe I just don't want to admit that I have more in common with the hipsters than I think?  No, I'm pretty sure I had nothing to add to any of the conversations I was eavesdropping on.  And I'm pretty sure I'm okay with that.) 

(The next weekend I met up with some friends from high school and their kids.  We were going to to Boo at the Zoo but didn't end up getting in because the line was so long.  We ended up hanging out at a huge pile of leaves outside the entrance while their kids, I think the youngest one was 5, played in the leaves and we stood around and chatted.  I mentioned that Impression 5 seemed to be hipster haven and one of them said, "Oh so that's where they all go."  I wasn't sure if that meant they wanted to join them or not so I added a very tentative, "Yeah I didn't really fit in."  and another one said, "If you want the opposite go to Hawk Island (a park where I love to take Henry) and there you'll find a ton of single parents screaming at their kids."  Me:  "Great!  I'm a single parent!"  Them:  "Oh.  Uh. I mean a bunch of women with kids from different dads."  Me:  "Awesome!  If I have another kid it will have a different dad!"  Them:  "Oh no, I mean like, FOUR different dads."  This is why I hate people.)