Made in Richmond

As JR gets older, we’re starting to notice certain characteristics popping up that can easily be attributed to either Ross or myself. For example…

From him:
Blue, blue (oh, so blue) eyes
A very notable brow
Feet perfectly engineered for flip-flops (i.e. lots of space between the first and second toe)
Giant hands
Sleeping with the body positioned much like the number ’4′
No volume control
Appreciation for bathroom humor

From me:
Fair skin
Long lashes
Chubby cheeks
Big, silly teeth
Hunger-induced rage
Trepidation around strangers
Tendency to produce drool puddles the size of one’s head

I’ve been trying to make this place a bigger priority. Seriously! I had ideas! Things to share! Stuff to talk about!

And then this weekend happened.

See, Ross and I had been battling (and losing said battle) a cold for about a week. Luckily, as of press time, JR has yet to suffer from the same cold (although I’m SURE he brought it home from the germfest that is day care) but man, it sure was wreaking havoc with us.

And we were holding it together, trying to blame it on allergies, and generally being very positive.

Until Saturday. When I woke up mute. As in no voice. Nothing. Not a whisper.

You know what is hard to do when you can’t speak? Parent.

Parenting is made even harder when your parenting partner is down for the count.

And we did what any respectable adults would do in this situation. We called my mother.

Luckily, my mother is addicted to JR, so she zoomed over, scooped him up, and kept him overnight so we could recuperate properly.

Despite our unexpected child-free situation, we spent Saturday (the most beautiful day Richmond has had in, oh, EVER) cooped up inside, drowning in our own snot, trying to sleep, ordering pizza (you KNOW Ross was sick if he allowed such things), and watching such stunning cinematic contributions as Confessions of a Shopaholic. And I specifically spent the day not speaking. At all. Do you know how hard it is to boss your husband and dogs around without being able to talk?

We’re doing ok at this point. I still sound like I smoke 4 packs a day, and we both are still spending lots of time with the Neti pot. But, I’d say we’re on the up-and-up.

And I’d say that if JR actually does end up getting this, I will punch day care in the face.

I cried a lot this morning.

And, no, I’m not pregnant (SHANNON) and I wasn’t watching Parenthood (the show, not the movie, although the movie also makes me weep… openly).

I slept for about 2 hours last night. The night before that? Preeeeetty much the same. Same thing for the night before that and the night before that.

So that’s been awesome.

Although I said things are better with the whole day care/me working out of the home more situation, my feelings this week are not so much in line with that statement.

Work is stressful right now – you know, like sick to your stomach, please just leave me alone stressful. When it gets to be like that, my first response is “I just want to quit and stay home and be with my kid. It’s not worth it.”

But let’s be honest, in that situation, I’m using the stay-at-home option as a way to potentially escape the stress of work*. I’m not ready to give up working. While I love (love, love, love, LOOOOOOOVE) being home with JR, I also love work. However, I don’t so much love my approach to work.

I work constantly, making myself available to other people pretty much nonstop from the moment I wake up until the moment I got to sleep.

That needs to stop. And quick.

I have other (more important) things to think about, to invest my time in. Like my child, my marriage, and, oh yeah, MY SANITY.

So, it’s rule time.

As of today, Fridays (which are supposed to be my day off) are actually going to be my day off. An Out of office message will be set up and I will only use the Internet to read blogs and celebrity news, just as nature intended.

Also (and this is huge/terrifying for me), I will not be checking email after 9:30pm. This might sound not at all nuts for some people, but trust me, it’s kind of giving me chest pains. One of my jobs requires a lot of communication with freelancers who, incidentally, often do their work at night. But I’ll make it work. It needs to work.

Regardless of the potential wrenches these rules might throw into things, they have to happen. For my kid, my husband, and for me.

(Hold me, I’m scared.)

*I don’t want to imply that people who choose to stay home are doing so to escape the stresses of work. Being a stay-at-home parent comes with its own set of very real and very hard challenges. I just mean that for me, when/if I come to the decision to stay home, I want it to come from a positive place, not from one of stress and frustration with my current situation.

Stage 1: Breeziness

Hmm, he feels a little warm. You know, he was a little sniffly and crabby today. Let’s just give him some Motrin and put him down early. He’ll be fine tomorrow. My, didn’t we handle that well?

Stage 2: Panic

Is he wheezing? I think he’s wheezing. Did you take his temperature? 103? What do we do? Can you call your mother? Please call your mother. I’m going to keep redialing the doctor’s office until they open so we can schedule an appointment. Is he wheezing?

Stage 3: Mutual hatred

You think you’re tired? *I’M* tired. How many times have you sucked the snot out of his head today? Oh yeah, well I don’t really care if you’re stressed out. We’re all going through this so SHUT UP. That’s it, no more babies.

Stage 4: Solidarity

Babe, I’m so glad you’re here. I would never be able to do this without you. I feel like we have the same bond that P.O.W.’s do, ya know? We can get through this. We will get through this and be so much stronger for it. Babe, babe, I love you. I just…I just love you (please don’t leave me alone with the shrieking child oh God).

Stage 5: Euphoria

He’s laughing! He’s eating! He’s smiling! Remember how awful that was? Oh, he’s so perfect. And you’re wonderful. No *you’re* wonderful. No, no *you’re* wonderful.

A healthy, happy, beautiful baby boy

My wonderful, handsome, and loving hubs

A job I love

An amazing church

Supportive friends (both in “real life” and via the Internets)

Selfless family

You, the ones who keep coming back and listening when I really don’t have much to say.

***

My cup runneth over, as they say. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving.

I’ve been referring to this past Wednesday as “The Day Of Much Woe.” Work was frustrating on many different levels, JR was determined to do anything but nap, the house was (and still is) a disaster, and, ugh, just a million other things that I just can’t muster up the energy to talk about.

More than anything, I felt like a totally shitty parent that day. During the rare moments that I wasn’t completely occupied with something else, in those precious, fleeting pockets of time where I could have been playing with JR on the floor or reading to him… I just couldn’t do it.

And then I felt horrible. Because that’s what I do.

And then I felt guilty. Because I do that, too.

With the guilt came thoughts of, “I don’t play with him enough. I don’t talk to him enough. He’s going to be behind developmentally because I’m such an effing introvert that it doesn’t even occur to me to talk sometimes. Sure he does wave “bye-bye” but not all the time. And he’ll point to Ross when you say ‘Where’s Dada?’ about 60% of the time. But he rarely points to me when someone asks, ‘Where’s Mama?’ He has no clue who we are. Oh God, Oh God.”

Later that evening, I expressed all of this to Ross through some hiccuping and ugly tears.

Ross sighed, went over to JR, picked him up, walked back over to me, and said, “Where’s Mama?”

Without missing a beat, that baby of mine smiled, turned to me, and shoved one gloriously chubby finger right in my face.

And then I thanked God for that baby and his sweet father. Because I don’t do that enough.

Ross took this on his iPhone when we were at the park this weekend. It makes me happy for two reasons:

1. It’s obvious where JR inherited his tendency to furrow.

2. Why do I look so confused by a playground toy?

This evening we were in the thick of the unholy hour between the baby’s dinner and bedtime while trying to coordinate who was going to do what in preparation for our dinner and getting the kid off to sleep. Trying to process that along with all of the work and tasks that need to be completed between now and when we board a plane for Iowa at 7am on Friday morning caused me to stop in my tracks and take a deep breath.

Ross stopped, looked at me, and said, “What can I do to help you?”

It’s so rare that we hear *exactly* what we need to hear, but this was one of those moments.

Husbands (particularly mine) are good things.

“I’m a shell. I have nothing to offer anyone right now.”

This is what I said to Ross as I sat crying on the couch in our basement this afternoon.

I’m not happy with how I’ve been approaching pretty much everything in my life these days. I greet every request with exasperation, sometimes outwardly, always inwardly. I’m defensive, passive aggressive, and mopey.

And really, no one is more pissed off about it than I am.

I have a beautiful, healthy child, a wonderful, smart, hard-working husband, and not only a job, but one that I love. I have absolutely nothing to complain about.

So it’s high time I shut up. So here I am. Shutting up.

From here on out I’m going to do my best to focus on the great parts of my life, refusing to let the mess of the everday suck up so much of my energy. It’s not worth it. I spend so much time anticipating the next thing that has to be done that I’m not allowing myself to be present in the moment at hand. And before I know it, I’ll look up and JR will no longer be my little boy, and I will have spent his babyhood fixated on the mundane rather than the miracle that he is. And that’s not fair.

He’s enough. They are enough.

Remember back a million years ago when everyone was doing their 100 things posts? I did one, too. This isn’t one of those. At least, it’s not about me.

I’ve decided to do a series of 100 things posts about some of my most favorite people in my life, just so you all can get to know them a bit better. And seriously, I don’t know how many more OMG MAH BEH BEH IS SO CUTE posts you all can take.

So! As my inaugural post in this series, I present 100 things about my dear hubs, as I know him…

1. He was born in West Virginia.

2. He has lived in Chicago, Deleware, Brazil, and Brussels.

3. He is an only child.

4. He weighed 10 pounds when he was born.

5. He came to Richmond in 8th grade.

6. He went to the Math & Science High School at Clover Hill.

7. He majored in Math and minored in Religion at Virginia Tech.

8. His blood flows maroon and orange.

9. He has curly brown hair and light, sky-blue eyes.

10. He hated corn when he was a baby.

11. He is allergic to sulfa drugs.

12. He was fortunate enough to go through his semi-awkward phase while living in Europe.

13. He has an abnormally large space between his big toe and second toe, making his feet perfectly engineered for flip flops.

14. He had hair halfway down his back in high school.

15. He also used to wear LOTS of rings.

16. He got called to the principals office senior year for organizing a voting block for senior superaltives.

17. He is right-handed.

18. He is an Eagle Scout.

19. His Eagle Scout project involved retiring old American flags.

20. He loves camping but rarely gets to go.

21. He is petrified of talking on the phone.

22. He loves it when old woman call him “honey.”

23. He loves beer.

24. He can’t handle it when bugs are inside the house. Outside is fine.

25. He doesn’t like to shower.

26. He has problems sitting still.

27. He wears Pumas to formal events.

28. He has been in more weddings than anyone I know, I think.

29. He gets along famously with his parents.

30. He loves Richmond.

31. He cooks me dinner every night.

32. He doesn’t know how to work the washing machine.

33. He never had a pet growing up.

34. He loves funfetti.

35. He didn’t like football until college.

36. He loves spices.

37. He loves Antiques Roadshow.

38. He has never seen Wayne’s World.

39. He grinds his teeth when he sleeps.

40. He leaves cabinet doors wide open.

41. He will do anything chore you can imagine as long as you put it “on his list.”

42. He loves to garden. I think he secretly wishes he could be a farmer.

43. He has a spectacular sense of humor.

44. He graduated from college a semester early.

45. He hasn’t gotten a professional hair cut in about 6 years.

46. He loves tracking our budget.

47. He likes to tuck his dirty socks into weird places.

48. He always remembers to thoroughly rinse off his toothbrush before putting in the holder.

49. He will wear the same shirt for a week straight.

50. He loves sci-fi and fantasy.

51. He’s gorgeous.

52. He loves apple pie.

53. He bought my engagement ring in Philadelphia from the same guy who sells bling to the Eagles.

54. He requires hang out time with dudes.

55. He prefers to nap on the couch.

56. He has excellent taste in television.

57. He often tells stories over and over again.

58. Sometimes he’ll tell me stories that I was either there for or told him myself.

59. He’s horrible at remembering names.

60. But he feels bad about it.

61. He once introduced himself to a friend’s sister on seven different ocassions.

62. When he realized it, he felt so bad that he bought her a card to apologize.

63. But he put it in the wrong mailbox.

64. Toddlers love him.

65. They often will bring him up in conversation without being prompted.

66. When I nannied, the little boy I took care of always wanted to call him at work. Ross was always willing to chat it up.

67. He loves inside jokes.

68. He understands the humor in certain punctuation and capitalization choices.

69. He says “Here’s a thing” ALL THE TIME.

70. He loves his parents.

71. He has perfect skin.

72. He’s a sucker for a nice smile.

73. He understands the importance of “face time.”

75. He loves reading to JR.

76. He shaves his head in the summer.

77. He owns no formal clothing.

78. It’s an issue whenever we have a wedding to go to.

79. He waits to pack until the very last minute.

80. And yet he’s always ready before I am.

81. He makes homemade granola and crackers.

82. When he feels the slightest bit sick, he stays home, rests up, and is good to go.

83. Consequently, he’s rarely ever very sick.

84. He drinks more water than I thought humanly possible.

85. This also possibly explains #83.

86. He’s great at anything that requires extreme focus and attention to detail.

87. That is, if he cares about it.

88. He demands that we get to the movie theater at least 30 minutes before the movie starts.

89. If we are going to a movie with you, he lets you know that 1) we will be there early, 2) we will not save seats for you, so be on time, and 3) we will stay until the end of the credits.

90. When he finds out someone is on Netflix, he immediately says (almost yells) “WILL YOU BE MY NETFLIX FRIEND?”

91. He loves watching movies.

92. I’m not sure we could be married if he didn’t.

93. Cross-dressing comedies are his favorite genre.

94. He can’t handle feeling pity for anyone.

95. Thus, he can’t watch most movies featuring William H. Macy.

96. He loves “The Emporer’s New Groove.”

97. Whenever we watch animated movies, he says, “Well, it’s no ‘Emperor’s New Groove’ as soon as it’s over.

98. This one of my most favorite things about him.

99. He loves me.

100. I love him.