I Believe....

Last year, we didn't get to see Santa. I wanted to so badly. I knew I shouldn't have wanted it so much--Will wasn't supposed to even have his first Christmas until this year anyway. But, he was here. And Santa was there. At the mall. With the germs, and without us. We were housebound, and glad to be. We were fresh from the NICU and under strict instructions to avoid any kind of crowds, including church, the mall, and our own family gatherings for the holidays. So we vowed to skip it all. We skipped Santa.

As this December rolled around, I was giddy with excitement to bring Will to see Santa. It was one of those milestones I dreamed about when mommyhood was still just a wish and a prayer. I waited all year for it. And now, Santa was here!

As the month wound down I was worried we'd never find the time! Luckily, there was a backup plan. Santa would be visiting Will's daycare for breakfast with the kids. Whew! If by some chance we didn't make the mall, I would get my picture with Santa. Breakfast With Santa Day came and I, with my "mommy brain" of mush and feathers, forgot all about it. Will arrived, unbathed and in an outfit that was ALL WRONG for Santa day! BOO! I had to leave before the Big Man arrived, but I wished him well, told him to sit nice for Santa and tell him what he wanted for Christmas. When I called around lunch time to ask how it went, the exact words were "Well, I've never seen his little arms and legs move so fast!" He couldn't get away fast enough. Oh no! No good picture, and no magical memory!

I knew we HAD to make the mall. This required "professional attention". I picked out his outfit and had Jeff bring him to the mall in the afternoon--no lines, no pressure, lots of time to get my perfect shot. Well, there was no line. There was no pressure. And with no effort at all, my professional, and who just may be the REAL Santa, gave me the perfect shot. And completed the milestone, the memory, that I'd been dreaming about...

The Heart of the Matter

So a dear friend of mine has welcomed a new little one into the world. And like the twisted road of my own journey into parenthood, hers has been filled with the dramatic ups and downs that so many are lucky to avoid.

I'm sure it's often taken for granted that when you have a baby, he or she comes home with you, buckled snugly in a carseat that teeters on your weary lap as you're wheeled out of the hospital, usually followed by a cart filled with flowers, balloons, and the hospital "gift bag".

When I left the hospital, my baby stayed behind, still "cooking" in the NICU. Getting head scans and heart scans and lung x-rays and blood transfusions and a scary looking IV shoved into his head. The hosptial was out of thier signature black diaper bag filled with goodies, so I left with a teeny plastic package in my hand that contained a baby nail clippers, a heart-shaped nail file, and teeny little baby "mittens" (which Will never even wore). It was truly one of the most depressing moments of my life, and one that I will never forget.

However, there was that glorious day, when I buckled Will snugly into his carseat, and left the hospital with a helluva lot more than one diaper bag full of freebies (yeah, I cleaned that NICU OUT!). And it is just recently that I realized how great I had it. When we finally walked through those doors, there wasn't a battle wound to be seen on that sweet little boy. While he'd had a rough road and a long journey home, he was, essentially, scarless....and so was I.

As my dear friend updates her CaringBridge website to literally throngs of loved ones on the edge of their seats...as she sits in the PICU, and listens to the beep....beep...beep of machinery and gazes over her baby, I can't even imagine what she sees. Battle wounds of an hours-long heart surgery. Fresh scars. Lots of tubes, and wires, and machines....I know how strong of a mama it takes to be able to even share her stories with me. I know how, even I, even after everything we went through...I can't even begin to imagine her journey.

And as Chase's heart mends, mine is breaking...and all I can do is pray....

And I'll Cry If I Want To

I'll admit it--I hate the sound of Will's crying. It either breaks my heart or it's like nails on a chalkboard. So I'll admit this too: I pretty much cater to him so I don't have to hear it.

This leads me to my current problem...now that he's rounded the corner past the 1 year mark, he's not always as keen on taking a nap as he used to be. I guess that was to be expected, but just a few short weeks ago, I could lay him down and he just snuggled up and drifted off no problem. Fast forward to right NOW...he's been crying (check that, screaming) in his bed on and off for 15 minutes. Every now and then he stops, and I KNOW he's tired, but I don't know how long is too long to let him "cry it out". I don't really have a problem with letting him do it, I just don't know I'm letting him cry too long, too short, or just right. So I have all the anxiety while he's thrashing around up there, I'm sure cursing my name....

...wait...is that quiet I hear???? Did I do it right????? Good gravy, I just may be getting the hang of this parenting thing yet!!!

On to the next problem...do I use this hour for kicking my feet up and snuggling up with my remote control or do I tear around the house like a mad woman in a desperate attempt to get all the things done that require my attention away from my little king of the castle before he wakes up.........hmmm.....

Teeny Little Super Guy

So I thought I'd jump on the blogging bandwagon--well, to be honest, I jumped on the band wagon years ago, then fell off, then got on again, then fell off again, and have since wandered far from the wagon, but now find myself with much more to say, so here I am again, back on the wagon.

Blah! So anyway, the basis of this blog will be by rants and raves about my new profession-parenting, and all the joys and sorrows that go with it, but I shall warn--I know I will digress, and share with you rants and raves of other varieties, but I'm sure my main focus will be Big Willie Style. Truth be told, he's pretty much my main focus in life.

Stay tuned, I have lots and lots and lots to say!