Thursday, March 13, 2014

Dear Chase,

Dear Chase,
My sweet boy, oh how I wish I could put into words the fierce love I feel in every corner of my heart every time I look at you. For the few years your daddy and I hoped and prayed for a baby to join our family I often imagined what you would be like. I wondered what you would look like, what would make you smile, how you would change our lives. When we discovered we were expecting you I don't think we've ever been more excited. For months I marveled at my changing body, the life and movement growing within me. I loved you before I ever felt the first kick. You'd wake me up every morning- 4am. I'd cradle you in my belly as you flipped and kicked. I called it our morning dance parties. I felt as if I already knew you. We already had routines, traditions I could count on. I'd smile as you wiggled, and poke you back.
When you arrived early I was scared. I was scared that I'd done something wrong- that you were somehow paying for a mistake I made. But you were strong, so strong. You beat every odd stacked up against you. Your dad and I would watch you every night and wonder how in the world we were deemed worthy of having such a special little boy in our lives. Your doctors and nurses all would comment what a fighter you were, and how good-natured. Even through the uncomfortable and often painful procedures you have always been such a happy boy.
The day we finally brought you home- 59 days after your birthday- is the single most happy day of my life to this point. As we drove home from Provo- just the three of us- I knew it was the start of something amazing. The start of a whole new life. Your eyes glittered with excitement and joy as the sunshine bounced off your perfect skin for the first time.
You are only five months old now. So strong and yet so tiny. I am so proud of how far you've come, and I know within my heart you are destined for greatness. But today, you are sick. Your little body has been through so much already and the RSV is so hard on you. I am trying to be strong for you. I cradle you and feel the sickness rattle in your chest. I pray, endlessly, that your Heavenly Father will bring you comfort and healing. I am so thankful your daddy is a worthy man and is able to give you blessings. I am scared for you because I love you, but I know that you are a fighter. This virus won't get the best of you. You inspire me, as you grin between coughing fits. Every time I see the pain and discomfort in your eyes my heart breaks for you, and just when it's nearly overwhelming you giggle and reach out to me as if to reassure me that you've got this. You're my everything, little buddy. You are strong, much stronger than me. I'd do anything for you. Absolutely anything to keep you safe, strong, and healthy.
I know this time is precious. You won't be little forever. There will come a day that you realize my singing voice is terrible and it will no longer soothe you. Someday, a dance party with mom won't be the easiest way to make you grin. There will come a day that snuggling under the covers all morning won't be your favorite thing. But today? Today you love my singing. Today you love to dance with me. Today, snuggling under the covers is the only sure fire way to soothe your discomfort... so that's exactly what we will do.

I love my buddy, and my buddy loves me.
He's the cutest buddy that you ever did see.
There's nowhere in the world that I would rather be,
Than all snuggled up, just my buddy and me.

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Confessions of the Introverted Social Hermit

It's not that I don't care. It's not that I don't like you. It's not that I'm miserable.
It's that.... I just really like my space. A whole awful lot.

1. I intentionally don't carry my phone on me 99% of the time. Because then I have to answer it, and I really don't want that.

2. If I'm not expecting someone, I refuse to answer the door. In fact, I refuse to even check who it is. I will indeed put forth my best effort to appear NOT home. I will even let the dogs bark on without hushing them to add to the illusion. Please. Don't ever show up unannounced. It really pisses me off- even if I like you.

3. I don't actually like people in my house. Not even people I love a whole awful lot. Not even people I enjoy being around otherwise. It weirds me out. It throws off my routines, it throws off the dogs, and I don't like it.

4. I rarely make plans, because he second I do I want out of them. The exception to this rule is family, oh I will plan things with family ANY time. But that lunch I committed to weeks ago? That meeting on the calendar? I likely spend more time trying to think of an excuse to cancel than anything. I just don't like committing my time to things in advance. It's not that I don't WANT to see people, I do... but having a strict agenda makes me really uneasy and irritated. I'm like a 90 year old woman- if I have a hair appointment at 2pm on Wednesday, I'm busy for the week. No more commitments can be made.

5. I don't like meeting new people. I'm really quite comfortable in my small social circle that consists primarily of family. I don't have interest in putting forth the kind of time and energy commitment required to build new friendships and relationships. See confession #4.

I really wish people could see that these things are not a reflection of how I feel about them PERSONALLY. They're just.... me. It's just how I am. So, please don't be offended if I haven't invited you over in a while (or... ever) or if I didn't answer your calls. I prefer to care from a distance. Nothing is wrong, you haven't offended me. 

MY kid.

Being that most of my friends procreated before me (damn you, infertility!) I have seen it a million times before: super cool fun friend suddenly has nothing to say that doesn't involve their new super duper cool baby, their Facebook feed turns into post after post of that said "super cool" baby did that day... and I'm not even talking things like cure cancer or end world hunger... but for some reason the fact their kid dropped a log in the toilet rather than their pants is some massive accomplishment. Depending on the friend this may or may not include a picture of their kid sitting on the pot in all their bare-bottomed glory.Rolling my eyes I'd think "DUDE, we get it. You like.... made a human and you think it's really cool and all and you want to share it with the world because for SOME reason you think your kid is way cooler than the bajillion other kids in the world. I totally get being proud. In Jr. High I once painted a watercolor picture of an island scene and it was really cool and if I had facebook then I'd totally have posted it... but not every single damn day!"  I would then realize that I had absolutely nothing in common with said friend anymore, and move on vowing that someday when I had kids, I'd only share the really awesome stuff and not become "that mom."

But then this crazy thing happened. I got pregnant. And I had a baby. Like, a really super duper cool baby. And now I post really weird crap, like pictures of breastmilk (twice, actually.) and photo memes about babies and parenting and the mere mentioning of breastfeeding in public, circumcision, or cloth diapering are enough for my soapbox to creep out of the closet. (I mean, on the rare occasion it even makes it TO the closet. I generally leave my soap box right in the middle of the floor, you know, in case someone needs to hear a bit of my infinite wisdom.) I post pictures of Chase daily.... because today's smile is pretty much completely different than yesterday's.

But surely no one is rolling their eyes at my updates like I have towards others so many times. Surely not. Because everything Chase does is super duper cool.
He's not like other babies.
He smiles cuter.
He laughs cuter.
And somehow, when his face is covered in vile, white chunky baby puke, he's still adorable.
His ears are the cutest ears I've ever seen. And those toes. OH and that bum... seriously guys, dangerously cute bum warning on this baby.
Because he's MY kid.
I made him. (Jon helped jump start it but trust me, I take 99.99% credit)
And he's way cooler than any island painting I've ever made. (But seriously, it WAS pretty awesome. It even had a pink sailboat.)

See, guys. See how that smile is like 500% different than the OTHER smile?! 
And now, well... now I get it. I get why all those moms I know were suddenly undeniably convinced that their kid was so super duper cool. Because kids ARE super duper cool. Even when they're not. That's something I never could wrap my head around before having my own. I don't think anyone can. So now, as I scroll my feed and I see "Oh look, little Johnny went to the zoo today and here are 1384723846723 pictures of his first time there!" I smile. I think, "I can't wait to post 1273632469314 pictures of Chase's first trip to the zoo!"

Because he's MY kid.
So, bare with me. Something tells me that this chapter of my life, the baby-having chapter, is going to make me really annoying.