Sunday, September 25, 2011

...And they lived happily ever after.

This is a story about a boy and a girl.

A boy, who was young and foolish and a girl, who was young and naive.
They grew up together, in a church where everybody knew everybody, and the congregation was your family.

You see, this girl was younger than this boy, and they only really saw each other because he just so happened to be dating on of her friends. They never thought in a million years they would end up where they are now. But that's how life goes, and that's how God works. 
Anyways, back to the story. 
Eventually, the boy and the girl's friend broke up, and the boy decided to move back home and attend church once again. There was this revival, you see, and the girl attended every night. And when the boy decided to go one night, he sat with the girl, since she was the only one close to his age. 
He came back the next night, and sat with her again.
And the next night.
And the next...

You get the idea. Every night, for two weeks, he sat next to her. He wrote her notes, and he drew her silly little pictures when things got boring. And they did get boring. Actually, probably the only reason why the boy and the girl went to this revival night after night, was to see each other, though they would have never admitted it back then. 
After all, she was young, and he was, well him.
Her friend's ex-boyfriend, her brother's friend...

And because this girl was young, she was not allowed to go anywhere with him alone. So when he decided to ask if she wanted to hang out, he came over and watched a movie at her house, and left by her designated curfew. Before they knew it, summer had arrived, and they spent day after day together.

And before they knew it, summer was gone, and it was time for school to start.

Somewhere along the line, things had changed a bit. They had gotten more serious, and more frightening. The L word had been dropped, but because of their age differences, their relationship stayed between them. The girl was torn, between being utterly happy, and terribly sad. She loved him more than words could express, but she knew it couldn't last forever. He was going away to college, and he had never even called her his girlfriend to anyone else. She decided it was time for a talk.

And that talk would be the one to bring it all crumbling down. 
And because she was young and naive, it broke her heart. After 9 months of spending almost every day with someone, she spent her first week without him. She couldn't eat, she couldn't sleep, and her best friend glued her back together several times. The weeks passed, and then the months, and slowly she got better. But she never stopped thinking about him. Although she was young, and may have been naive, she knew in her heart that she would marry him.


But this boy decided that every once in a while, he would try to pop back into her life. With a text message here, an email there, he reminded her so many times of the love she had, and then lost. 

Two years went by, and they stayed apart. 
The boy in Orlando at college, and the girl at home, right where he had left her.

One day, because the girl's best friend had had enough, she called the boy and invited him to a party. 
And it just so happened that he was home from college for good, and he had nothing to do that night. 
So he came by, and he saw the girl, and the girl saw him, and they were reminded of the love they once shared. 
Although they were young, it was real, and deep, and could not be forgotten. 

You know what they say, the rest is history.

They started dating again a few months later. And this time, everybody knew. He called her his girlfriend, and held her hand in public. He told her he loved her, and that he thought she was beautiful.
But because he had broke her heart, she was scared. Scared to love him, and scared to let herself think that  he could love her. Things got hard, and they weren't always happy, but they tried.

And eventually, she let go. Of the past, of her fears, and decided to love him like there would be no tomorrow.

He asked her to marry him, in front of a bunch of strangers, and she said yes and cried. Three months later, they shared a wedding with their closest friends and family, and three months after that, they announced they were expecting. 

And here they are, a little over a year later, and happy as can be. They have their ups, and they have their downs, but their love remains strong, and constant. 
The boy has learned to be patient and kind, loving and gentle, and the girl has learned to be tender and sweet, respectful and open. They share the love that you hear about in a song, or read about in a story, much like this. 

There's still so much to write, and so many things to learn, but one thing's for sure.
They found their happily every after.

The end.

Friday, September 23, 2011

Remember, remember the 23rd of September

Today was one of those days I wish I could bottle up and save forever.
To keep from losing it to time, and it's cruel continuation.

The funny thing is, it was such a normal day. Aubrey didn't want to nap (story of our lives) and I didn't get to sew. But it was okay, more than okay.

We laid in bed for most of the morning..
We talked, and cuddled and fell asleep a few times. 

We finally got dressed..

And decided to play with some toys..
While mommy, unsuccessfully, tried to sew.

He sat in his favorite bouncy chair (thanks Aunt Jenni!!)
While mommy made funny faces to make him smile for the camera.

He does this new thing, when he's falling asleep, where he reaches out and touches my face. He grabs my nose, my lips, and caresses my cheeks. His eyes bore into mine, and I swear he is everything I will ever need. He finally falls asleep with his hand placed lightly on my chest.

And he laughs when we play peek-a-boo. He laughs every time I pop out of wherever I'm hiding (usually behind my hands) and then he gets the hiccups. And he laughs some more because a hiccup sometimes catches him by surprise. 

He's a spoiled boy, and doesn't like to be put down. By the end of the day, my arms are killing me, my shoulders are sore, and I realize I forgot to eat. But it's okay, more than okay. Because he's only this small once, and he'll only let me smother him for so long. 

I hope I remember today forever. I hope that by writing it down, I have seared it into my memory, so that I'll be able to look back and say, I remember the 23rd of September.

(P.S.- You'll have to excuse my poor picture taking. They're from my phone and it's not so great camera. ;))

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

A special delivery

Lately, God has filled my heart with compassion and sympathy for people whose little ones leave this earth entirely too soon, or are born what the world would call "imperfect." Be it due to an "incompetent cervix" or a child that is diagnosed as "incompatible with life," Down Syndrome, or a superficial flaw, I am finding that it happens more often than I had realized. I want to say that it is because of not knowing anyone who has recently lost a child, or not knowing many people with a special  needs baby, but realistically, it was because of ignorance. Better yet, denial. It's one of those things that you think won't happen to you, or anyone close to you, until it does. And their world changes.

And suddenly, they long to know someone who has been through a similar situation, just to know they're not alone. Not out of selfishness, but for comfort.
Years ago, my parents lost a little girl. I ask them about it occasionally, and they are more than willing to talk about Rebecca and share the story of her brief life. The cord was wrapped around her neck too long, and she was born only to live 2 short weeks. I am not claiming to know how they must have felt, but it saddens my heart to know that anyone has to endure such pain and loss. It has been a long time since, and God has healed their gaping wounds, and gave them two more little girls to fill their hearts.
During pregnancy, it is only natural to wonder if everything is going "right." That the baby is growing properly, that there is enough fluid and that there are no folds on the back of the neck. You anxiously await that first kick, and count the days until you feel the unfamiliar hiccups. When people ask what you want (boy or girl,) your reply is "A healthy baby with ten fingers and ten toes." More often than not, that is the case. Your baby comes out healthy, perfect, and beautiful, and your smitten.

But sometimes, a baby comes out not so healthy, but still perfect and beautiful, and your smitten.

I'm not talking about this to scare you. To be honest, it scared me at first. I kept reading and reading about all of the things that could go wrong, and all of the diseases that could steal a baby right from under me. I was engrossed with the facts about all of the Trisomies and the "syndromes", and my heart broke every time I read the sad words of a grief-stricken mama. All the while thinking, that could have been me. It still CAN be me. 

It was enough to make me not want to have anymore babies.

I realize now, that while my short term fears were sound, motherhood is entirely too amazing to worry about the what-if's. And if any of those mama's with the special babies had had the same thoughts, then their specials babies wouldn't have ever been. And it's sad that it takes a beautiful baby boy named Benjamin to make you sensitive to things like using the word "retarded."

I look back now, and I think about all of the times I said how much I disliked being pregnant, because of how uncomfortable I was, or how "huge" I had gotten. I would look at my round stomach, at just 36 weeks, and say, just come out already! And now I think about all those mommies that would kill to have a huge belly to rub, and a 38 hour labor to endure. What we get to experience is nothing short of a miracle, and we should feel blessed and EMPOWERED to have the privilege to carry a baby, full term or not.

My ever constant churning mind has the tendency to run away with the mere possibilities of what could be. And I've realized probably the most important thing that any mother can realize. How I hope that if God decided to bless me with an "imperfect" baby, that I would love him as He intended me to. That I would wait in anticipation of my baby's arrival, and I would thank God that I had the opportunity to be a vessel for Him. It takes a strong woman to be the center of God's perfectly etched plan, and I pray that I would be the perfect example of His design.

And if I'm blessed to have another healthy pregnancy and baby, I pray that I will relish the moments I have him inside of me. That I will realize the miracle in the making, and give God the glory He deserves. For how better to see His love, than a beautiful, special delivery.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger

    I remember, years and years ago, how the concept of money was far from my mind. I was young, and my friends and I went to the mall. A lot. I'd ask my dad for money, he'd hand me a fifty, and off we went. It would be gone within an hour of arriving.
   I remember, not too long after that, how we had to shower outside with our neighbor's hose because our water got turned off, or how family friends from church would fill our fridge with food. We were thankful to have a roof over our head and each other. They were hard times.

    I remember, one minute we were at the pool enjoying a day off with our mom, and the next, she was in the hospital, for months at a time. I went from picking on my sister, to secretly fixing her hair after my dad so lovingly tried to do it.
    I remember, not understanding what Multiple Sclerosis meant, or how it affected our family, but being scared and knowing things would never be the same. Catching rides to school with family friends, and spending a lot of time over other people's houses. They were hard times.

    They've come and gone, those hard times, and each time they hit, you learn something new. You learn how to live. You learn the difference between being thankful at Thanksgiving, and giving thanks everyday. You pray harder, and love stronger. And even if it's only for a little, you become a better person.

You put on your rain boots, and you weather the storm. And if you're lucky, the sun comes back out in no time, and your grass grows back even greener than before. You know what they say. What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Suzy Homemaker

I feel like i've really been slacking on this whole blog thing. I started out writing everyday, then ever other day, and now it happens once a week. Now that Aubrey is getting older, I feel like he actually wants me to play with him. He's just asking way too much, in my opinion. ;)
Also, i've been very busy sewing! Yep, that's right. I blog, I sew, and I play with my baby. All in a days work. The whole sewing thing is quite a funny story, really. Well, funny to me anyways.
While I was pregnant with Aubrey, I had this crazy idea to buy a sewing machine. I was about 38 weeks, done with work for good, and had nothing to do while the hubby was slaving away (aka at work).
So off to Wal-Mart I went. I wanted one that was easy to use, cheap, and cute. I found a tutorial for a sling, and a pattern for a purse. I was set.

It sat in my room for the next 2 months- untouched.

I have this bad habit of getting a really "good" idea, buying whatever the idea is, and then never actually using it, or only using it once. Fortunately I'm a savvy shopper and find the best prices, so it's never too much of an investment. It's a bad habit, and I fully intend on breaking it...
Well, just a few weeks ago, my friend Corinne came over and had this amazing nursing cover. It looks like a blanket with straps, and has terry cloth corners for quick and discreet cleanups.
I had always just used a blanket, which would either fall off or make us sweat. My boy is a space heater as it is. I went to the store in search of  this glorious product.

40 dollars.

Reluctantly, I walked away, hoping I could find a more inexpensive alternative. That night, while sitting in my room, I spotted my long forgotten sewing machine. And it hit me. I can make a nursing cover.
And that I did!
Along with a sling, and a changing pad, and a whole slew of other things. I think it's safe to say that I'm addicted. And I'm actually good at it, too! Not to brag, or anything. I had never sewed before and then overnight I'm making things like nursing covers and diaper clutches, burp clothes and bibs... You get the idea.  Maybe one day I can make clothes and start my own fashion line!
Maybe not.
But either way, I really enjoy it and I'm glad I have found something that I can be good at in this new stage of my life. I'm rollin' with the punches, adapting, embracing my new role. You can call me Suzy Homemaker, thank you very much

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

The write time

  There's nothing I enjoy more than diving into a world that could never exist. Escaping into the magic that is J.K Rowling, or the mystery that is James Patterson. Creating a movie in my head, each and every word jumping off of the page and into my imagination. Spending hours upon hours, day after day, consumed in the fantasy that is a book. The feel of the pages between my fingers. The smell of the paper with every page turned. If I could, I would live in a library. Or a bookstore. If I had my way, my room would look like this..

Every book is filled with such passion and hope, it makes one wonder why these worlds don't exist by sheer desire. And then there is the memoirs and the biographies. These tales told of these heartbreaking lives or triumphant successes. They suck you in and spit you out with a new perspective, if only for a day. They give you the want to write, they give you dreams.

Part of the reason I started this blog was to be able to write, since it is no longer required of me as it was in school. I miss having topics to choose and deadlines to make. I remember the anticipation of seeing the grade I acquired on a 25 page research paper I worked so hard for. It felt good. I felt accomplished. I had goals that were reached, and praise was given. 

Now, in this stage of my life, the accomplishments are different, and the praises come in a form of a coo. Things like sticking with breastfeeding, and getting the baby to bed before nine, are what make me feel productive. I remember, after first bringing the baby home, I felt like I was getting nothing done and doing nothing important. I was stuck in this mindset where I thought that my accomplishments had to be tangible. It's funny how much changes when you become a mother. Like the fact that reading is now a luxury, whereas before, it was apart of my everyday life. I sometimes miss being able to sit for hours and get lost in a book, but I'd much rather lose track of time with my little boy and his smiles and "talking."

One day, I'll write a book. I don't know what it will be about, if it will be fiction or non-fiction, or if it will be a page turner like the many I've picked up. But I know that it will feel good, and I will feel accomplished, and I hope that it will ignite the imagination and the passion of people around the world. And I hope that it will inspire someone to do the same.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

You are my sunshine.

   As I sit here staring at my computer screen, my sweet little Aubrey sits fast asleep in his carseat right next to me. I can't help but watch him, and wonder what he dreams of. It still amazes me that, not too long ago, he was tucked away inside of me. Safe and secure, where he had no fears or worries. And now here he is, and my job of keeping him safe and secure becomes twice as hard. He gets scared when the dogs bark, or when he wakes up in an unfamiliar place. He puts on this little pouty face and I know he's about to cry a heart breaking cry. I pick him up and kiss him, tell him it's alright. And then I wonder what will happen when the fears are bigger and the worries, real. When nothing I say or do will comfort him, when he asks me why people are mean and why falling has to hurt so much. Because this world is dark and cruel, I will want to say. But instead, I will tell him to be strong and to be good and find the good in this dark and cruel world.
  One day, he will fall in love. Whether he's 8, or 25, he will love deeply, how he was loved. And his daddy will teach him to be kind and gentle, to treat girls like princesses. He will teach him that you can be a tough guy and play sports with the boys, but still be nice to girls. Aubrey will probably laugh, say that girls are icky. But one day, he'll understand. One day, he'll want to marry someone other than me. My heart will break, but I know that it will be alright. That my place in his heart will always be mine, but shared with someone else.
  One day, he'll be too cool to kiss him mom. I'll drop him off at school around the corner so his friends don't see him say goodbye to his mommy. I'll make sure he doesn't forget his lunch and tell him that I love him. He won't say it back, but before he rounds the corner, he'll look at me and smile. I will cherish that smile, and know that that's his way of saying I love you, too. Then, he won't need me to take him anymore. He'll be big enough to walk, ride his bike, and then drive. He'll make his own lunch or buy it there. I won't be able to leave little notes on napkins, or make sure he gets his favorite fruit snacks. One day, he'll be far away living on a campus at a college where he'll probably do more partying than studying.
  But I know that one day, when he's old and "wise," he'll hug me back, even in front of his friends. He'll kiss my cheek and tell me he loves me, even in front of his girlfriend. He'll ask my advice on how to propose, and he'll ask her dad for his blessing. I'll dance with him at his wedding and we'll both reminisce about the days when he wanted nothing to do with me. He'll hug his dad and say, thanks. He'll give us grandchildren and the years will fly by, just like before. And one day, very far away, he'll be taking care of us in our old age.
  I know there's time, and I know it won't happen exactly like that, but I often find myself thinking about how fast it will come, and how much I will miss having him inside of me, safe and secure. Because I know out here, in this dark, cruel world, there's only so much I can do to protect him, and only so much he will let me do to love him. I hope that he will always know how much he is loved, and that he will be able to show that love to everyone in return. I hope that he will always know that he is my sunshine, my world.