Tag-Archive for » love «

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.

Friends like these

I got an unexpected phone call from a friend recently. It was a delightful surprise to see her name pop up on my phone. There are certain people in your life that you never really expect to be friends with. And some small circumstance throws you together, something of chance, and you find an amazing person there waiting for you.

Seeing this person’s name never fails to cheer me. I always look forward to talking to her, and I have a feeling we could talk about writing, books, movies, and all sorts of things for days on end. She is wise, warm and a true treasure to my heart.

I have been so lucky to find some pretty amazing girlfriends in my life. Women who are genuinely caring, uplifting and supportive. Friends who put a smile on my face when I just think about them. I can think of several of them right now and I feel incredibly lucky that I can name more than one or two. I am so fortunate that these women have crossed my path and somehow stumbled into my life and stayed there. They encourage me when I need it. Prop me up when I fall. And wipe my tears when I think I just can’t go on.

I don’t tell my girlfriends often enough how much they truly mean to me. But by gosh, I aim to do it now.

Category: babbling, miscellany  Tags: , , ,  Comments off

My heart

Things to comeThe first time I saw that faint fluttering on the screen, my heart left my chest and settled in my uterus. It stayed there a whole nine months before it made its way outside my body. And now I see it, here, in front of me.

I watch your precious face as you sleep and I realize why parents say your children are your heart walking around outside of your body. I understand it now. I thought I did before. I “knew” what it meant to love a child, my future child. That is, until they placed you on my chest. And then, I really knew.

My heart is so much bigger than I ever thought it could be. It wraps around you, your sister, your father. The further away any of you are, the further it stretches. I understand 1 Corinthians, where it says “love is patient, love is kind.” I get it. You made me realize all of these things, and so much more.

You gave me a gift that I couldn’t fathom until now. I knew I always wanted you, and while I couldn’t imagine my life with you before, I now can’t consider it without you.

I love you, little one. Always.


Category: parenting, spawn  Tags: , , ,  2 Comments

laughter can be the best medicine

Things have been slightly stressful here at casa de misspriss. We’ve had some financial setbacks that aren’t pretty. If I were actually working full-time, they would be tough, but we’d be back on our feet in a month, possibly two. Right now, it’s going to take much longer than that.

In addition to working outside the home, I’m working on my writing business as well. It’s going great. But I need more work. Trying to deal with that, keep up with the writing I do have, keep up with my job and the stuff going on there, care for my son (and actually be present), and somewhere in there actually spend some time with my husband… well, they’re starting to take their toll.

Tonight, we had the TV on. J was playing with the kid and watching a show while I did some writing. There was one unexpected moment in the show involving hypnosis, a bell, and clucking like a chicken. It tickled us a little just because we weren’t watching for it. And later, J was trying to make noises for the baby, but one of them didn’t come out right. And the harder he tried, the more he messed up. And before you know it, we’re both laughing so hard that neither one of us can make the noise.

It’s our banter and just being silly once in a while that keep me from cracking.

My husband is a funny guy. And I can even be funny sometimes, too. (I just wish I could translate that better onto paper.) More than that, though, I’m grateful that we can laugh together. After ten years, he still makes me laugh, still makes me sigh at his thoughtfulness and tenderness. But don’t tell him that. Let’s just keep him guessing.*

I didn’t realize I needed laughter tonight, but I did. It’s a much better way to start the weekend than the way I was headed.

*He reads this, so he’s going to see it eventually. ;)

Category: family, me, me, me  Tags: , , , , ,  Comments off

baby, i’m amazed by you

Me and the Boobah My son is discovering his hands and it’s a fascinating experience. He gazes at them, turning them around, wiggling his fingers. You can almost see his mind working. “Wow, these are so cool! I didn’t know they’d do that. I wonder if they’ll fit in my mouth?” Everything that gets close to his face gets pushed towards his mouth. He doesn’t hit it every time, but he’s getting there.

His movements are getting better, although they are still a bit jerky. He waves his arms and manages to hit himself in the noggin half the time.

But his new favorite thing is the best part. He loves it. It’s bouncing. When he pushes against me with his feet, I use the momentum to lift him. Over and over. And over. He thinks it’s great and grins like crazy. I must get it on tape for his grandparents. It’s the cutest thing.

Everyone who sees this kid just has to stop and talk to him (you know, when he’s awake). His smile is infectious and they stop to smile back at him. It’s fun to watch because he’ll smile at anyone. And his little personality is starting to shine through.

I am so amazed every day by this kid.

My favorite time of the day is the early morning, after he eats. We lie in bed, snuggling. Sometimes he naps, other times he’s quite chatty. I can’t put into works how lovely it is to lie there, sniffing his head, touching his face, looking into those beautiful eyes. It’s a balm to my soul like no other.

I think I’ll keep him. No, I’m sure of it.

Month four: letter to our son

My dearest son:

As I told you before, I probably won’t be consistent at this newsletter thing. I’m too busy spending time with you, drinking in your eyes, mouth, fingers, and toes. I can’t get enough of your sweet smile, your dimples, and your giggles.

little hands will build big things one day

This weekend, we heard you laugh in your sleep. It was one of the most precious things we’ve heard. Ever. And I heard it again last night. I’m still mopping up the puddle of goo from my side of the bed, where I melted.

You are a snuggle bug. When I take a nap with you, you plaster yourself next to me. When I put my hand on you, you stroke my arm. But when your feet are pointed my way, watch out. You love to kick. You grin madly, flail your arms, and kick with abandon. You look like a little running man, but with no traction. It’s seriously cute. And you think it’s hilarious. So we let you kick us. Daddy and I both know we’ll regret that later.

Through your eyes

I’m a little scared of your poop right now. I’m poop shy. You tend to fill your diaper up after eating, which is pretty typical. But last Saturday, after you pooped, I opened your diaper to change it. You started to pee a little as I wiped up the mess, so I covered you back up, getting poop all over you again the process. And then I heard a dreaded rumbling, and you started pooping again. At that point, I could only pray that you didn’t have gas, too. You finished, and I got ready to wipe again. You started pooping again. At that point, I got a little nervous that you’d start kicking and either get your foot in the mess or move the diaper and release a poop avalanche. I held onto your feet for dear life and you pooped yet again. At that point, I’m just praying the sides of the diaper catch everything, as I was changing you on our bed. On my side, no less. I must have used 15 wipes to clean everything up. I prayed the whole time: please don’t poop again, please don’t fart, please don’t poop any more! I’m still traumatized from it. When I hear you poop now, I cringe. Will the diaper hold? Who knew one little baby could produce so much poop all at once?

But I’ll manage anyway, because that’s what mommies do.

Time is picking up speed, and the days with you are starting to pass much faster than I would like. Right now we’re your favorite people in the whole world. You wake up with a smile for us. You grin when Daddy gets home from work and says hello to his boy.

typical guy - already hogs the remote

I knew I would love you. I always have. But I didn’t know what an absolute joy you would be. I can’t get enough of you. I could stay home all day and do nothing but entertain myself with you, go for walks, play peek-a-boo. It just doesn’t get old. I hope it continues for as long as possible, this inability to get enough of you. I live for that smile, those snuggles, these giggles. I imprint them with indelible ink on my memory.


Category: spawn  Tags: , , , ,  One Comment