Adventures in Being Myself

My darling Zane - As I write this entry, you are asleep; snugly enveloped in your beloved blanket, pacifier in your mouth, breathing (oh, how I love to hear you breathe...) steadily, and skipping happily along in dreamland. You cannot understand - or, maybe you do - that your birthday is nigh. And not just any birthday; your very first birthday on Earth, and quite a special occasion for all of us. Exactly one year ago today, God made us a family and the well of love in our hearts became bottomless. Your name means "gracious gift of God," and we chose that name for you because you are the greatest blessing in our life. I hope whenever someone asks you about the meaning of your name you will always remember that: YOU are the greatest blessing and gift in our life. As I reflect on the last year, my heart overflows with gratitude and love. Gratitude to God: He said to Pop and me, "you are to be parents; but trust in me." We did, and he gave us you. You, the love of our...

Yes, Anonymous, I know I failed. See there in the sidebar to the right? I admit it. So there. Whatever. On to more important things. I have been so scattered for the last week. I know the source of my lack of focus: Zane is positively careening toward the big 0h-1! just three days from today. Try as I might, and no matter what I do to distract myself from this fact, I can't help but reflect on the last year and wallow in sentimentality, which leads to lack of focus, which leads to scatterbrained-ness and so on and so forth. I'm not the type to live in the past, forsaking the joy of today, tomorrow and the next day. But the last year - actually, the last eighteen months - has been amazing. The greatest joy I've ever known is Zane: a tiny, sleepy, snuggly, contented bundle of sweetness who has grown into the happiest, smiliest, most expressive, sweetest little boy. All of my friends who are mothers comfort my sadness by reminding me that it "just gets better." It...

As my Anonymous Blog Stalker "politely" reminded me, I haven't kept up with this NaBloPoMo thingy very well in the last five days. Whatever! Thanks for the suggested new daily mantra, but I think I'll stick with what works for me: Recommit daily to your goals. So, getting back to business. Starting with Sunday, five days late. Cheers to all us thieves ! It may be late, but this meme is a perfect metaphor for the chaos that has reigned in my universe during the last five days. 1. Do you like blue cheese salad dressing? Yes, but not the creamy variety. I like blue cheese vinaigrette. 2. Favorite late night snack? Cherry Garcia, or Hash Browns scattered, smothered and covered . 3. Do you own a gun? Yes. A shotgun . 4. What’s your favorite drink at Starbucks or other specialty coffee shop? Venti Shaken Iced Passion Tea with three Splenda instead of the classic (sugar) syrup. 5. Do you get nervous before doctor appointments? Not anymore, after bi-weekly, then weekly, OB vi...

Mr. Robert P. Tracey (in a thick New Yawk accent...): "Yeah, someone from this number called PetFinders about placing two cats." Me: "Um, no we didn't." Mr. Robert P. Tracey: "Are you sure?" Me: "Um, yeah. Pretty sure." Mr. Robert P. Tracey: "Is this 239/245-2859?" Me: "No. This is 239/245-xxxx." Mr. Robert P. Tracey: "Are you absolutely sure nobody from that number called about placing the cats?" Me: (Inner dialogue: Mr. Robert P. Tracey, sir, I assure you that no one from our household called PetFinders from our home line to inquire about placing two cats. Really. I promise. Beyond the fact that we rarely use our home phone, much less at 9:58pm, and that our number isn't 239/245-2859, we are not cat people. Oh, Mr. Tracey, if you only knew just how vehemently we are not cat people...) "Yes. I am absolutely sure."

A Friday haiku for my Anonymous Blog Stalker (Hi Kevin!): It is not Lupus, Silly no-name commenter. It is BRONCHITIS.

I have officially given up on this week. I spent another day meandering between the sofa and my bed, covered and uncovered (depending on my fever), watching smut on the telly. Bravo disappointed me today; but, Oh, VH1! Your Celebrity Rehab made me feel like I could run a marathon today, even in my pitiable, tired, feverish, congested, coughing-up-a-lung state. And, by the way, am I the only one who thinks it is so very, very sad that Kenicky is a chronic addict? Zane is officially 11 months old (as of yesterday), and he is now officially waving "bye bye." And so far, so good on our mission to keep him safe from invasion by the germs infecting his Mama. PG is tired. Bless his dear soul, he has been Super Papa, nurse maid and full-time employee all week. He even made homemade "junk" soup for supper last night because that was the only thing that sounded even remotely good. And it WAS good. Tylenol Cold Nighttime=good. Claritin D=no bueno. Gas prices have fallen to $1....

...severe respiratory infection and bronchitis. So, "Anonymous" thanks for suggesting it may be Kuru (what-the-shutchermouf???) or Lupus ; as if I didn't feel bad enough already. Anywhoo, it's Day Five of "not feeling so good," and Day Three of laying on the sofa watching the ever-entertaining smut on BravoTV . Until this week, I thought the powers-that-be at Bravo had really hit a low note with The Real Housewives of Atlanta. Now I understand its value: providing seriously sick mamas with a dose of indulgent, guilty pleasure between bouts of coughing up nasty green stuff. One question, though: why are they ALWAYS DRINKING on that show? Seriously! That Kim person was actually holding a full wine glass while sitting in her Porsche. I'm sure she wasn't driving but, still, open container law much? Also, my new favorite expression is "black don't crack," another Kim-ism. Throw me some love, internets, post some comments with clever uses for...