The Boy's Own Room - Take 2

So dearest son has his own room again. He so graciously offered it to one of our dear friends while said friend was in transition and needed a place to stay. Said friend moved out yesterday, which gives our boy his own room again. Last night was his first night sleeping in his own bed again in many months, and it went well. He waited until 2 or so to climb into our bed, so that's not too bad. Besides, he's not the only one having to make this transition. I love the family bed and have fully embraced it for 3 years now. I miss my little guy when he's not right next to me. But it's time, and this time I feel we're all ready to make the move.

On happier notes, I start part-time employment status this week, and I'm delighted! Tomorrow is the first day of March, which is one of my favorite months. My birthday occurs in March, as do several beloved friends. In addition, a few dearly-anticipated babies will most likely be born this month, so I'm about to have my cup running over with new baby sweetness. Then there's the first day of spring, which means little in this area as we can still see snow well into April, but somehow marking that day renews hope that the earth will be green once more, and sunny days will be abundant soon.

Now off to daydream of new babies and gardens...

Ah, babies

There is nothing like holding a newborn baby to shake one's resolve. Well, not just any newborn baby. I hold newborn babes on a regular basis, and while I enjoy it greatly, none of those newborns have stirred the longing within me. At the office I hold the babies, nuzzle them, inhale their sweet baby smell, and pass them back, content with the temporary high. But then came Baby L.

Baby L. is dearest son's "cousin". Dear son spends his hours away from me with a woman we refer to as his nanny, and his nanny has 5 children. Nanny's oldest daughter had a baby a couple of weeks ago, and we had the great honor of visiting with the family just a couple of days after Baby L.'s birth. I thought I'd just do the same with this little guy as I do with the other well-loved newborns I meet: I'd hold him, bring him close to get a good whiff, then pass him off to mom, content in knowing I was free of that responsibility. Not so easy with Baby L.

The moment I held him I felt that longing, that pull to motherhood. I remembered so many moments with my own son, both beautiful and challenging, and felt slightly intoxicated with the nostalgia. I watched as my own "baby" looked kindly at the new baby, rubbed his head oh-so-gently, then softly tickled Baby L.'s little hands, a huge smile on his face. It felt so perfect, holding a newborn while gazing adoringly at my "big boy", and I started second-guessing my resolve to parent an only.

It would be easy to explain those feelings as simply biology. After all, I'm 30. I'm in the latter part of my prime child-bearing years. Of course I'll read these feelings as inclinations to procreate. But then dearest son makes frequent comments recently like, "Baby O. is coming soon" and "I'm going to sing that song to Baby O. when she comes" and "Baby O. has green eyes just like mine." And he believes it so completely that I almost believe it too. But of course Baby is coming soon! It just wasn't her time yet! I was just being impatient!

I have no idea what the future holds. I know I'm content with my only now, happy to parent my son. But if I am to be truly honest with myself, I will admit that the idea of adding another member to my family, however far off it may be, fills me with joy. But only time will tell...

Laissez les bon temps roulez!

Happy Mardi Gras! One thing I love about being married to a Louisiana native (especially one who grew up only a short drive from the fabulous New Orleans) is embracing their traditions. I love bonfires on Christmas Eve, searching for alligators while driving down the road on a hot summer day, and celebrating Mardi Gras, just to name a few.

This is the first year, however, that I will commit to a period of atonement. Lent has never really held much significance for me before, but this year I feel called to embrace that tradition as well. And I'm not going to do it half-heartedly, either. I'm giving up the one vice I love above all others: I'm going to abstain from alcohol for at least 40 days.

I know, I know. Those of you who know me are laughing heartily, most likely thinking, "Yeah, right. You'll do good to go 40 minutes on a Saturday night, much less a full 40 days." But what better way for me to really accomplish some enlightenment? I see days filled with saving some money, maybe losing a couple of pounds or so, discovering new interests. Sure, it won't be the first time I've abstained from alcohol for a long stretch (I was an incredibly responsible pregnant lady), but I learned a lot about myself then, too.

So wish me luck, friends! And until tomorrow comes, drink up!

One of those days

"It's just one of those days, when you don't wanna wake up..."

I'm definitely having one of those days. My patience was already out when my feet touched the floor. This situation did not mesh well with a 3-year-old son whose job it is to push boundaries. The boy and I did spend a nice lunch with a dear friend, so that was a welcome break. Now he's resting, the house is quiet, and perhaps we can both recenter and start fresh in an hour or so.

On a more upbeat note, the first of my favorite 2010 babies to be born is in the process of entering our world now, and I can't wait to meet him! Dearest son's nanny's daughter is laboring now, transitioning from young woman to new mom, entering a whole new world. I may not intend to birth more of my own, but I am thrilled to dote on the babies of others!

Snow

This really long, really taxing week is concluded with a major snowstorm. I don't mind. I welcome the chance to stay home. As I grow older, my attachment to my home grows stronger. Nothing beats time with the family, be it lazy days or days with purpose. I feel blessed to actually like my family enough to want to hang out with them, even when I don't have to.

It's been a good week, full of processing changes and making big decisions. I have some amazing friends whose input and support have proven invaluable, and I know that no matter what the future holds, I'll be OK. Who could ask for anything more?

And what does my future hold, at least immediately? I'm going to reduce the number of hours I work outside the home and spend more time with my son. Perhaps in time I will devote myself to the care of children, both my own and those of others. All I really know for sure is that I'm ready for a change, a change that brings me closer to home, that gives me a chance to make a positive impression on my son while he's still so young.

And when I think of that change, my heart sings, which is, according to my dearest friend, what life is really about anyway.

I hate January

I've tried to like January, but we're just not that compatible. I acknowledge there are parts of January that are actually quite enjoyable, but generally speaking, I do not enjoy the month. It's gray and boring. And I tend to go a little crazy in January.

Sure, it's logical to blame it on the sudden stop of all the hustle and bustle of December. Perhaps it's all of those less-than-cheery feelings bubbling up after being repressed during the holidays. I'm less concerned with the cause and more concerned with getting through.

At this time I have too many balls up in the air, too many unknowns as to how they will fall down around me. And you know what I really want to do? I just want to stay at home with my boy, soaking up all of the brilliant things he has to say, managing all of his spectacular moments of defiance and rebellion, pretending to be a domestic goddess. Being mommy is what I love most, and it's all I want to do. Staying at home isn't easy; in fact, in many ways it's probably more challenging than working outside the home. But leaving my heart in someone else's hands is growing more and more difficult.

Sigh...I can't wait for January to be over...

The family that plays together gets sick together

It started with the boy - congestion, coughing, fever, sleepless nights. In my attempt to be Amazing Nurturing Mom, I made myself susceptible to his illness. I cuddled him, hugged him, kissed him, wiped his runny nose until he felt better. And I felt like a hero until I became congested, started coughing, and couldn't sleep. Now I'm just cranky and trying to explain to a much-better son that Mommy is now sick and could really use some time to just rest and feel better too.

Thankfully dearest spouse is still well (probably due to sleeping on the couch for the past two nights and refusing to get within a 5 ft. radius of either son or me) and is able to divert the boy long enough to give me spare moments of peace and healing time. And how do I spend these moments? Blogging, of course. I figure it's a low-energy activity and keeps my mind sharp while my body recovers.

And the boy won't be distracted for long. He's a Mommy's Boy if ever there was one, and he'll find me. Oh, he'll find me. And I'll ask him for cuddles and hugs and kisses to help make me better too. Because that's what families do.