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Grateful

I am thankful.

For family. Good food. A warm home. My job. My coworkers.

For turkey-induced naps. Pumpkin pie piled high with whipped cream. Sage dressing. Candied sweet potatoes with marshmallows on top (heavenly!). Really good gravy.

For my husband. His help in the kitchen, around the house, with our son. His love. His smile. His laugh.

For our son. His giggle. His dimples. His yummy, munchable cheeks and toes. His smile.

There’s so much more, really. That only touches the surface of how blessed we really are. Right now I’m just busy enjoying it. I hope you are, too.

Two years – so far, so good

Today is my son’s second birthday. Originally I wanted to write a beautiful tribute to everything he means to me (us).

Instead, I spent time just watching and enjoying him today.

Mid-morning, just before his nap, he sat on his little foam couch next to the toy box, his feet up in the air and resting on the side of the box. He grabbed a piece from his toy garage that is somewhat like a straw and was blowing into it, making noises. He’d pause every so often, throw his head back in glee and just laugh.

If I close my eyes, I can still picture the joy in his face. That big smile with the gapped teeth and dimples. Bright eyes, half closed in the middle of laughter.

That? Is the best part of my day every day. I am so grateful for every minute of the last two years. And I wouldn’t change a thing. Happy birthday, boobah. May you continue to bring joy to those around you.

The boy & me


The boy & me

Originally uploaded by lola goetz

Still alive. Trying to enjoy the boy, and get some scheduling issues straightened out for my sanity’s sake.

But isn’t this the greatest pic ever? He’s not crying, he’s laughing. And we were both having a good time with the self-portraits.

Man, I love this kid.

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Mom as Jungle Gym, A Modern Art Piece

I was in the dining room, squatting down to look at something on the bottom shelf of our baker’s rack. I didn’t even see it coming.

Whack!

A very large car starts moving over my back and shoulders.

Wait, let me back up. My son is obsessed with cars. It’s really anything with wheels. If an object has wheels, he must have it.

Earlier this month, he threw a fit over a rain gauge that had a tractor on it. When I finally figured out what he wanted, I got it down for him. And then he threw a fit because the wheels wouldn’t move on the stupid thing. It was the funniest and most pitiful thing, all at the same time. He was so disappointed that the wheels were immobile.

So we have these cars (Ridemakerz, which we LOVE) that have been sitting on top of our stereo since last Christmas. After we got home from Missouri, the boy noticed them. As in, would not stop until we got them down for him. Point, whine. Point, stomp feet, whine. Repeat. I really don’t mind him playing with them, so I got them down for him.

And they have not left his side since. He even sleeps with them now. These cars are not small. They’re about 10-12 inches long. But he loves them and runs them all over the place.

Me, included.

So this car starts running across my back. I’m leaning over enough that he can balance the car on my shoulder and it will stay. So he leaves the car there so he can go get the other one. He brings it back and runs it all over my back, too.

I’m amused, but also glad there are no cameras around.

I think that I’m my son’s favorite playground. He’s constantly running his hot wheels cars all over me, too. Or when I’m laying in the floor, he crawls across me. Over. And over. And over.

So I’m a jungle gym. Or a car track. Or just a really soft play toy.

And I actually love every minute of it. Being a mom is so cool.

Walking in a spiderweb

Okay, so I’m really tired of seeing that wifi post up there, so it’s prompting me to drop in, ever-so-briefly.

We (the boy & I) are visiting family right now. There’s a lot of “Outside!” and “Turn on the ceiling fans!” going on around here. And grandparent snuggles. And inappropriate food smuggling (thanks, Dad). And CARS.

My boy is happy. So am I.

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Park it! Or don’t.

fountain, with natural history museum in background

Since living in San Diego, we have never taken advantage of the Balboa Park Tuesday promo. Each Tuesday of the month, different Park museums offer free entry to county residents. We’ve talked about it, but never gone. Until today. Sort of.

We stopped and grabbed some sandwiches to eat at the park. (By the way, Whole Foods Turkey Bacon Avocado wrap? Awesome.) When we got there, we knew things didn’t look good when all of the parking lots were full. But we stumbled upon a lot we didn’t even know was there and voilá a few empty spots.

Today’s museums included Reuben H. Fleet Science Center and the Natural History Museum. We walked around for a while, looking at things and making our way towards that end of the park. Oh lordy.

It was so crowded that they wouldn’t let you take strollers inside any of the free places. And we have a crapload of stuff in the stroller – diaper bag, cooler with milk, my purse. Which means we’d have to unload and carry all of the stuff PLUS our 35 lb. toddler. No way I’m leaving any of that stuff in the stroller. And we have to carry the boy. We can’t let him walk around — he’ll get creamed. He’s still a little wobbly and needs plenty of space to wander around.

And a crowded museum ain’t it.

I really wanted to see the museums, but it’s abundantly clear that we need to wait until the fall, after school starts. Then maybe the crowds will be a little more reasonable.

The kid fell asleep as we walked around anyway, as it was way past his naptime.

We decided to head home for a bit to give all of us a chance to rest before J’s archery practice later. And then we headed back almost to the same place. Yeah, a little silly, but we were all pretty tired.

While J does his archery thing, the kid and I walk around. There’s a playground, but he’s still just a little too young for it. Too many bigger kids running around who wouldn’t watch out for him. But nearby there was a nice area of grass. I put his shoes on him and let him go.

Have I mentioned how much my child hates shoes? He’s a regular little hillbilly. His grandparents would be so proud! He’d much rather run around barefoot. But in a park where I don’t know what’s been in the grass, sorry kiddo, it’s shoes for you.

He didn’t walk much last week, but this time he took off. And when he gets to the sidewalk he really takes off, squealing and grinning the entire way. But after a while there were too many bicyclists zipping by. And with us so close to the sidewalk, it would be easy for him to jet out in front of someone.

So when he wouldn’t hold my hand, I had to put him back in the stroller. Did I mention the boy has quite an independent streak? Um, yeah.

DSCF1296.jpg

But really, can you resist that face? I don’t think so.

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Mama said there’d be days like this

You know how motherhood sometimes just chews you up and spits you out?

Today is one of those days.

Dance, little boy, dance

Last Friday was my best friend’s birthday. She came over for a low-key dinner, to visit and to see the kid. And that kid loves playing with his auntie. She brought over a movie, one that she’d told us we needed to see. So we did.

Nacho Libre.

I hadn’t planned to see that movie. Like, ever. But it made her laugh, and she kept quoting from it. So we had to see it. These days, we could use all the laughs we can get, right? We knew it would be dumb. It was. Yet it was funny. And a distraction that I desperately needed.

If you’ve seen it, you’ll know the part of the movie I’m going to refer to. Nacho is at the market, buying some things, when he spots a pair of boots that he must have. And that’s when the Bubblegum song plays.

That’s when the Boobah started dancing. And we all cracked up. How could you not? Here’s this little – almost 3 foot tall – boy, moving his head from side to side, wiggling his little bottom, and grinning for all he’s worth.

So we replayed the song. Then his auntie got up, grabbed his hands, and danced with him while we sang the bubblegum part of the song. I wish I’d gotten it on tape. The pure joy in both their faces was awesome. My sides ached from laughing and my cheeks hurt from smiling.

That, my friends, was a perfect Friday night.

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Used and abused

Things my child has hit me with recently and the injuries I sustained:

Blocks
He loves to pound on everything, and unfortunately my face is sometimes a little too close. Results: several fat lips.

Sippy cups
I get hit with these at least once a day. Most of the time I manage to dodge, or at least keep my glasses from getting broken. My cheek has been bruised more times than I can count.

Feet
My son LOVES to kick when he’s lying on his back. Especially during diaper changes. Results: many pummelings in my stomach. And occasionally my legs. I think he left a bruise on my thigh. This kid is STRONG. I don’t mind it so much when we’re lying down and he does that to my back. I just need to teach him when it’s okay. ;)

His head
This is the most damaging weapon. He bruised my nose this morning and I still have a headache from that. He cracked the side of my head with the back of his a few days ago and my ear is still sore where it got crushed between his head and my glasses. Fat lips galore. Many head bruises. And he’s only recently started to stiffen up and throw himself backwards. Hence the rapid increase of head injuries. For me. Doesn’t seem to bother him much at all.

I think my son may be trying to kill or maim me. How much do you think his father paid him?

Crying game

Motherhood changes you. It shifts something in your core, tinges how you look at things. I never realized the deep fundamental difference it would make down to my soul.

I sat here, at my desk tonight, sobbing unexpectedly. A short scene on TV reduced me to tears in a brief 30 seconds. Even now, just the memory brings tears to my eyes.

I am not the person I once was. I could watch movies and TV shows without a second thought. Oh sure, things sometimes scared me or disturbed me. But I could distract myself (oooh, something shiny!) and move on.

Not any more.

I was watching Leverage on TNT. It’s new to us, but I’m really beginning to like it. There was a scene in which one of the main characters talked about his son, who died when a treatment was denied. Just them talking about it wasn’t too bad.

But when they flashed to the scene where he remembered his son dying, showed him running into the room to hold his son in his arms after the heart monitors flatlined? I broke down. I sobbed that ugly way when you’re so upset you can hardly breathe, your head pounding from the intensity of it.

Because I think of parents who have lost their children too soon, and then I get a little scared, worrying about my boobah. Wondering how anyone gets through something like that. And not wanting to ever, ever find out.

I’ve always been a little emotional. I cry at movies, poignant scenes, even those darn tissue commercials that were on for a while.

But this? Is something deeper. Something that strikes my core. I can’t bear to watch a child in danger, hurt, or killed. I can’t even read about it. I read Deep End of the Ocean several years ago. I doubt I could handle it now.

Does it ever get easier? This paralyzing fear? This crippling emotion that grips your head and your heart? Is there a way to get through motherhood intact? I don’t know.