This One's For the Girls

My little one turned on the radio this morning in our bedroom and Martina McBride was singing away.  I don't particularly care for this song, not that it's bad, I'm just not a big Martina fan.  A line in this song that I've heard a million time struck me today though...

Every laugh, laugh line on your face

Made you who you are today

I've been blessed so far in that realm...at least I think I have.  (Don't tell me if my face is really covered in wrinkles and laugh lines.  I enjoy my world of obliviousness.)  Anyway, I may not worry about laugh lines, but it made me think about plenty of other things I do worry about regarding my physical body.  It seems like when people (women, in particular) hit the age of 30, things start changing.  It's as if you've gotten a whole new body that looks, reacts, and does things you are unfamiliar with.

If you've just turned 30, you may not have had this happen yet.  I didn't know what people were talking about.  Now that 31 has come (yes, I admit it), I'm starting to understand.  I could make this entire blog about the things I don't like about it all, but I won't, simply because of this song.  Everything I see that has changed, everything that I don't like, everything that I would pay good money to "adjust"...it's all part of who I am today.  I am the way I am because of the life I have lived and the choices I have made.

I love the life I have and I wouldn't trade any part of it to be rid of these physical insecurities of mine.  Just remind me of this the next time I'm having "one of those days", okay?

Some Days

Some days, I don't even recognize the girl I am today.  Some days, I look back at that person I used to be and I laugh.  I knew it all...I knew what I would and wouldn't be as a parent and a wife and in all honesty, some days, I'm exactly the opposite of what I thought to be "right".

I swore I'd never be one of those moms who didn't appreciate their child every single moment of their lives...even when they were having a tough day.  I remember thinking about what I would give to just experience motherhood and knew that I knew that I knew that I'd appreciate every second.  Well, welcome to the real world, girlfriend.  Motherhood is tough and I'm here to admit it to whoever does (or does not) read this blog -- I'm one of those moms.  I'm a real person.

Some days, when I'm just chillin' at home, I forget to brush my teeth. Gross...but true.  Never dreamed that's something I could forget, but it happens.  Some days I can't get enough of my little man who's getting to be more and more like me.  Other days, I wonder if I'll ever find my sanity again.  (The hubby recently pointed out that this whole "just like me" thing I love so much could be a reason why I tend to butt heads so often with a 20 month old child.  Hmm...?  Lord, help me!)

Some days, I cry.  Some days, I laugh.  Some days, I do both...at the same time.  Some days, I'm a clean-freak.  Some days, I could really care less and just sprawl out on the dog hair-covered rug to play blocks.

I'm just a normal girl with normal thoughts and dreams.  I no longer claim to "know it all", nor do I judge.  Being a mom has changed the way I view things, the world, people.  I never knew I was a judgmental person before, but now I see it.  I hope I never offended anyone by my internal judgments...and I also hope that I never reap what I sowed!

Just a little glimpse into my mind today!

That's My Boy!

I did not build this tower, nor did I even have a part in it.  But it makes me happy.  Notice the color coordination and the nice stacking of the blocks?  That's my boy!  *blissful sigh*

Changes

I'm not gonna lie -- we've had a tough week, you and me.  Daddy was home with us for three days in a row because of the holiday and while I enjoyed it, I suffered miserably after he went back to work.  You see, you're quite the "Daddy's boy" these days.  If we both come into your room in the morning, your eyes light up when you see him.  If I happen to reach you first, you shove me out of the way because I'm blocking your view of "him".  I've said before that you have to have tough skin to be a mom, but I'm not sure I've ever quite felt that as strongly as I do after this week.  You greeted me yesterday morning by asking, "Da da?  Da Da?  Da Da?", gave me a shove when I tried to pick you up, then turned your back on me in your crib and gave me a dirty look.  More of the same throughout the day yesterday, so I was quite relieved when Daddy came home last night...just to get a break from the harsh attitude radiating from your little body.  I admit, I did not have a "happy heart" last night.

I wasn't sure what to expect this morning, but sucked up my pride as I walked into your room.  I was greeted with a big, silly grin as you proceeded to play with me like we usually do before I get you out of bed.  I waited to see how the morning would go...and it's been amazing.  You came to me in the kitchen, tugged on my pants and took my hand as you pulled me into the living room with you.  I wondered what you wanted as we went to the couch...and then you climbed up into my lap.  We sat there watching Sesame Street for a good 30 minutes, just cuddling and talking about everything we saw.  You even laid your head on my shoulder a few times and actually squeezed my arm to hug me.  That was a first!   *bliss*

During this time, I began to look at you -- to really look at you and thought about all of the changes in you I've been seeing lately...

For instance, your eyes.  They've started to lose that baby blue color in certain lights.  The gold sunburst in the center has started to take over and they're starting to look a little more green.  (Daddy says your eyes look just like mine...I love how God works that way.)

As I stared at your eyes, I began to notice you were sucking your fingers like you often do when you're relaxing.  I was surprised to see you're starting to get hairy knuckles.  You've always been a hairy little guy, never losing that baby fuzz on your back, but we've recently noticed that it's becoming more and more prominent on your legs too.

Thinking about your fuzzy little legs led me to your feet.  I love those "fat little feets".  I took you to buy new shoes yesterday and was amazed to find out that these feet of yours are actually "extra wide" AND "tall"...meaning...we have a problem when it comes to shoes.  I learned yesterday that the size you need to wear is also known as the same size for a 3-4 year old.  Just a reminder, you're not even 2 yet...but at least you're consistent.  The last time we saw the doctor, he commented that you're about the size of a 3 year old.  Again, a reminder, you're NOT EVEN 2 YET.

The taller you get, the more your belly is disappearing on me.  Sure, it's still round like a Buddha belly after you eat but it doesn't take long to deflate again.  You've been more than half my height for a while now and your Daddy loves to think about how long it will be before you just pass me up.  At this rate, it's just around the corner!

I have so much fun with you these days, but I find myself watching you sleep at night as you wildly take up the majority of your crib, and remembering the tiny little baby we bundled up and put into that same crib so many nights ago.  My heart hurts because those days are long gone, yet my mind soars at the excitement of what's to come.

I can't wait to play catch with you.  I can't wait to joke around with you and for you to tease me back.  I can't wait to sit and watch you play sports...not that we'll force you to...but because I know you will, you're already just that kind of kid.  However...I can wait for the difficulties and pressures of friends you're bound to face at school.  I'm not ready for those sort of things yet, for you're still my baby boy.  In a way, I'll bet you always will be.  It's a good thing we have your Daddy around to guide me in how to just "let you be a boy" or I'd probably try to swaddle you in a blanket every night to keep you "little" forever.  (JUST kidding.)

I sure do love you, my little man.  You've changed my life, you've changed my world, and you've changed me.  How did I get so lucky that God picked ME, of all people, to be your mom?  He must love me too.

Are You Tough Enough?

Are you tough enough to be a mom?  I used to think I was, in my own strength, until last night.  Sure, we've dealt with things like skinned knees, ear infections, and breathing treatments...but last night brought on a new experience for me -- croup.  "Just a virus?"  Try...just something that creates horrible sounds coming out of such a little body, unnatural to humans, equivalent to a seal barking.  Just something that had me so worked up and kept me from falling asleep last night as I feared for the "what if's".  I instantly reverted back into a "new mom" and told Lou that if he hadn't been at home with me, I'd be sleeping on my boy's floor that night just to make sure he was still able to breathe.  Of course, I knew that was silly.  Of course, I eventually fell asleep.  But only after I gave it to God, pleading for Him to watch over my son as we slept. I was surprised by my reaction -- I'm not sure where it came from, as I'm typically more level-minded about things.

No surprise, God pulled through as He always does and I never even heard a peep all night long.  (Actually, we all slept in a bit this morning...I'd say He definitely had His hand on our house!)  So there you have it.  Turns out, I am tough enough to be a mom...but only because I have God to hold me up.

One of Those Days

I'm a smart girl.  I know my way around the kitchen.  I'm comfortable there...

Tell me, then, why did I take my 20 month old son's word for it and try to cut up a cucumber for him at lunch time, only to slice into it and find out it was actually a zucchini?

Geez, woman!  Am I the only one this un-observant?  Good thing it's Friday.

Fall

(Image courtesy of this site because I was too lazy to go take my own today.)

I love Fall. It's a time for cooler temperatures to prevail. It's a time for mums, pumpkins, changing leaves, and pumpkin spice lattes. It's a time for sweatshirts, jackets, and slippers. It's a time for cuddling up in a blanket with a good book while sipping the previously mentioned latte...which I'm beginning to think I need to have pretty soon. And let's face it -- it's a time for covering up our bodily imperfections that are so blatantly on display all summer long. (Amen, sisters?!)

It's also a time for wearing socks. Odd, I know, but I love socks...but only at certain times of the year. Throughout the summer, you will not catch me wearing socks unless I am forced...I repeat, FORCED...to wear tennis shoes. In all honesty, you will not catch me wearing anything that does not equal or resemble a flip flop. If it were up to me, I'd wear flip flops all year round but I'm too big of a wimp. My feet get too cold. Hence, my love for a good pair of socks.

This year, I'm a little too antsy for Fall to arrive I think. Maybe it's the unseasonably cool temperatures we've had this year, I don't know. We have a lot of great plans coming up this Fall that I'm pretty excited about...our annual MS 150 Bike Tour trip, camping, a Mizzou game...some of my favorite things to do with my hubby, I admit! It seems to be the time of year where we take the most "Mommy and Daddy" time away from our precious little boy. Tough on the babysitters, I know, but it's refreshing for me.

For a couple of weeks now, I've been trying to resist it all. I can hear my box of decorations calling to me, telling me to go ahead and bring up those wonderfully scented candles and to proudly display the fall wreath (that I love so much) on our front door. (I'm not normally a wreath person, but in the Fall and around Christmas, I love them.) Most years, I forget that I even have Fall decorations and quickly put them up sometime around Halloween, frustrated that I'll be taking them down again in a month when we decorate for Christmas. This year, they'll get a lot of good use...it's barely September and I have a feeling that by the end of this week they'll all be out, accompanying the mums I *accidentally* bought at the store today.

because He's chosen me?

I recently found myself talking to a friend about some questions I've asked God throughout our journey with infertility..."Why, God? Why us? It's SO easy for others we know -- why not for us?"

After many tears, much heartache, and (mostly) a whole lot of peace from the "Man upstairs", I have found the answer to be quite simple. It's also the reason for the title of my blog...because He's chosen me. (Of course, when I say "me" I'm referring to my husband I both.)

While it's a daily battle at times, I have finally come to realize that this is the life God has chosen for me to live. For whatever reason, He sees me as a stronger person than I see myself, and feels as if I'm able to handle these twists and turns this road of life has given us. Why? I haven't the slightest idea. Do I enjoy it? That depends. Some days -- I'll be honest -- not so much. Others, I simply stand in awe as I gaze upon my precious little boy and I'm reminded that I would not be the person I am today -- his Mommy -- if it were not for this road.

This road has opened up many opportunities for us, "our ministry", you could say. We love to tell our adoption story. We love to talk with those considering adoption, answering any questions we can, reassuring them that the adoption process is not as risky as they make it seem on TV. It's not society's "normal" way to create a family, but it's the way God has chosen for us. We can choose to dwell on the sorrows of what will never be, or we can rejoice in what He has chosen for us to be. I recently ran across a poem by Robert Frost that I've read countless times in my life, but it never hit me quite like this before.

I took the road less traveled by,
and that has made all the difference.

I feel as if it's the perfect description of our life. We may not be taking the same path as everyone else we know, but if we had, we would not have this amazing little boy in our lives...and THAT has made all the difference.