Made in Richmond

For my wonderful, supportive, and funny husband

For my happy, healthy, and absurdly adorable son

For the amazing women in my life who blow my mind daily by starting businesses, telling stories, taking chances, teaching the world about kindness, being completely amazing mothers, making people laugh (and think) (I couldn’t link to all of them because you’d be reading this all day)

For the love that JR has from his grandparents (I sometimes forget how lucky he is to actually know all of them, spend time with them, and be utterly spoiled by them)

For siblings who just get it

For a church that I’ve been fortunate enough to be with since it started

For work that I care about and enjoy doing (with people who are the most fun)

Thank you, thank you, thank you…

I always leave about half and inch of soda in the bottom of the can. This drives Ross insane.

Eating lunch in restaurant by myself is my most favorite thing.

When Ross is gone for the evening and I’m home with JR, I clean the entire house, eat pizza, and watch Gilmore Girl reruns. It’s pretty close to my idea of a perfect evening.

I cannot stand it when random people in commercials are given names. For example, in this 15-second spot for, I dunno, maybe laundry detergent or something, a husband calls his wife “Molly.” Why do we need to know her name? Does her being a “Molly” add anything to the situation? No. All it does is distract me and make me not remember what the commercial was even about.

I always cough in the same pattern: 2 coughs, a breath, and then 3 coughs. This is not intentional, it’s just how it goes.

I am overly concerned with the state of my child’s fingernails. If they get too long or have dirt underneath them, I’m certain everyone is judging me. But I pay no attention to other people’s children’s fingernails, FYI.

I love the way coffee smells, but I think it tastes disgusting.

Whenever I play Tetris (which is not enough) I always hold out for the long, skinny block, letting things pile up to ridiculous levels.

I am challenged when it comes to using keys. You would think someone with a college degree could remember which way to turn a key to lock or unlock a door, but alas, it’s hard for me and typically takes me about three tries to get it right.

Now you go…

JR,

Yep. Starting today, we will no longer describe your age in months. Once kids hit the age of 2, parents seem to stop doing that. In fact, I’ve been saying “almost 2″ for the last month whenever people ask about your age. Part of me is glad that I no longer have to do math to tell people how old you are.

I don’t understand how it has been 2 years since you were born, all 10 pounds, 2 1/2 ounces of you, after what seemed like a thousand years of labor. People always told me that it goes so fast when your kids are growing up, and that is so incredibly true. I can vividly remember holding you for the first time as we were being wheeled out of the OR. I couldn’t believe how amazing it felt to have you in my arms, to feed you for the first time, to really get a good look at you, my big, beautiful baby.

And now you’re my big, beautiful boy.

There are certain things you do these days that just floor me because they make you seem like such a kid, definitely not a baby. You know that if you get food on your hands, you can just lick it off. You understand the concept of standing on your tiptoes. You have a favorite T-shirt that you would wear every single day if I let you. You respond to suggestions you like with an enthusiastic “Sounds good!” That last one cracks me up because it’s totally something you picked up from me. Others you tend to repeat are:

• Ok?
• Shooter! Don’t eat it!
• Ross!
• Oh, lord.

We’re starting to get more comments about how you and I look exactly the same. While you definitely have your Dada’s eyes, it’s quite obvious that you currently favor my side of the family. There are times when I look at you and I’m completely blown away by how much you look like pictures of me at that age: the hair, the cheeks, the chin, the smile. It’s pretty humbling to see yourself reflected back at you in your child.

The talking is still constant, and you speak in sentences, which is pretty awesome. You also love, love, love to sing songs, especially when you can play your drum while doing so. Your rhythm isn’t bad, by the way. You’ve also recently developed a new habit of asking me “What’s this?” when a song you haven’t heard comes on the radio. I’ll tell you the name of the song and the artist, and you repeat the name of the artist slowly as if you’re logging it in your memory. I can’t wait to see how that plays out.

You’ve started to be quite helpful around the house. You love to scoop the dogs’ food into their bowls, to help me clean the kitchen (I just give you a damp sponge and tell you various things to wipe off), and to put your sippy cups in the sink. I hope and pray with everything that I am that this behavior continues.

Our absolutely most favorite development is your new love for cuddling. You love to snuggle up in bed and look at books, watch TV, or just chat. You’re even initiating hugs, kisses, and exclamations of “I love you!” and “I missed you!” The other day, you were running around the living room and I was sitting on the rug watching you. You came up to me with your arms wide open, shouting “CUDDLE?” (Requests tend to come in such a fashion — you’re not rude, just… loud.) You folded into arms and sighed. A split second later, you popped back up, only to turn back around and dive back in to my lap.

“One more cuddle, ” you said.

You can have as many as you want, my sweet baby boy.

Love,

Mama

***

I never got around to doing a video for JR’s first birthday, so I decided to highlight his first two years in one slideshow. I’ve included a song that JR and I sing together a lot; it’s from They Might Be Giants’ Here Come the 123′s, a CD that was given to JR for his baptism by our wonderful friends Matt and Jenny. Watch and enjoy (or weep like I did).

JR turns 2! from Valerie on Vimeo.

(Vimeo has been having some attitude about keeping the video embedded here. Just click the link if it doesn’t show up.)

This has nothing to do with anything, it’s just one of my favorite parts of Elf, which I will be watching pretty much on a constant loop until New Year’s.

(I promise one day I’ll post something other than YouTube clips. Maybe.)

I don’t know if I’ve ever shared this before. Even if I have, it seems appropriate with it being Veterans Day.

I made it about four seconds before falling apart (but in the best possible way).

(Thank you.)

So part of my job at RVANews is to contribute to the fortnightly parenting column, Raising Richmond. Although we occasionally switch things up by having a special outing to a Richmond locale or inviting a dad or two to contribute, the format usually consists of the amazingly wonderful (seriously, she’s so nice, you think she’s kidding) Patience Salgado and I sharing our thoughts about various parenting topics.

This time around, we decided to open things up for people to share their birth stories, specifically what led them to choosing where to have their babies. Because, you see, when it comes to birthing our babies, Patience and I have had very different experiences. She’s had the majority of her babies (she has FOUR) at home with the help of a midwife. I had my kid at a hospital in what turned out to be a very intervention-heavy experience — still special, but quite…well…involved.

When you get a minute, will you head over and read it, let us know your thoughts? And if you’re up for it, Mamas, will you share your experiences? Not only am I oddly interested in birth stories, I think talking about our experiences really helps mothers-to-be as they look at their options when it comes time to bring their babies into the world.

I already posted this on Facebook, but I MUST share it with as many people as possible.

And because the Internet is awesome, someone “unswhirled” this video, making it even more hilarious.

(Thanks to Brando for bringing this into my life.)