It's just a clock...

We bought a new clock.  And I'm having a hard time hanging it.  Not literally (although I'll have to pull out the step ladder). What I'm really struggling with is taking the old one down.  It was one of the first wall decorations J and I chose together for the family room after our house add-on.  It's the clock that fell off the wall and had its glass shattered the morning of my 3rd beta when I was pregnant with Lincoln.  And it's the clock that's been in the background of Lincoln's 3 birthday pictures, marking the precise moment (well, within a few seconds) that he turned 1, 2, and 3.  But it's just a clock.  

I keep hoping that I can convince myself of that if I keep saying it.  That old clock doesn't harbor those memories.  They live within my mind.  And thanks to this blog, I can revisit them any time. So I think the bigger issue here is why am I having such a hard time with change lately?  Maybe just because there seems to be a lot of it this year.

I've been an emotional wreck, and I'm not really sure why.  Lots of other unusual symptoms, too.  Heartburn when I eat, heartburn when I don't eat, slight fatigue (but it is Christmastime and I have a toddler, so go figure), and the "girls" are prematurely tender (it's normal when it's time for AF). I tell ya, if I didn't know any better...well, I might allow myself to wonder "maybe?"

How to Lose a Girl in One Date

This Friday marks 10 years since J and I met.  A decade of us.  The following is a piece I wrote during a summer writing project during my Master's program just a few months prior to that meeting.  I had a request from my SIL to post it so she could read it.  Maybe it will make you smile.  Love doesn't come so easily to all of us...

How to Lose a Girl in One Date

For those single folks out there who just can’t seem to grasp the whole “dating” concept, consider these pointers.  I’m offering them from experience.  Yes, you too can have a disastrous first date.  Traditional first dates often include a meal and a movie.  Sure, there are a million books about what you should do on a date or what you could do to make the date enjoyable for both parties.  However, we have all learned that sometimes the greatest lessons come from non-examples.  So, toss aside your dog-eared copies of Dating for Dummies.  The following is a surefire way to mess up a date.

Step 1: The Arrival

Arrive late.  Not only should you be late picking up your date, but also it’s not a bad idea to call her on the way to confirm those directions one more time.  For instance,

           

Guy (10 minutes late): I’m almost there.  How far is your house from the

taxidermist?

For extra credit, make sure you drive the biggest truck you can find—even if you have to go test drive one overnight.  This works especially well if your date is shorter than average.  Make sure there is no step to assist her on her way up.

Step 2: The Meal

Take her to a crowded restaurant.  While you are waiting an hour for your table, you can stand together in awkward silence.  Be sure and divulge any idiosyncrasies you might have.  Annoying habits fit nicely under this umbrella as well.  Fellas, now’s the time to tell your date that you used to smoke but now you prefer to dip; that cowboy boot lamp on the hostess desk would look great in your bedroom; and don’t forget to comment on the gorgeous woman across the waiting area. 

Step 3: The Conversation

Make fun of your date when she pulls the movie listings out of her purse to help guide the rest of the night.  Comments such as, “You actually cut that out of the paper?!” work quite well.  Oh, and asking how her aunt died will really liven up the conversation.  (They give you those big cloth napkins—she might as well use the whole thing!)

Step 4: The “Extra” Time

When you leave the restaurant, make sure you have some time to kill before the movie starts.  That will give you time to explore those stores you’ve never been to,

           

            “Barnes and Noble Booksellers.  What do they sell there?”

Don’t forget to take her to your favorite store as well.

           

            “Do you like the Home Depot?”

Yes, certainly—there’s nothing women like more on a first date than looking at power tools and plywood with a total stranger!  But remember, Home Depot may close at 9:00, so you might still have to go early to that late show.

Step 5: The Theater, Part I: Before the Movie   

Upon arriving at the movie theater, park that big monster truck as tightly in a space as you can so that your date not only feels she needs a parachute to exit, but she also has to keep the door from slamming into the car next to it.  (NOTE: This is even more effective if you can park next to a brick wall.) When you enter the theater, be sure and ask your date, “You didn’t want anything, did you?”  Not only will she feel obligated to say no, but that gives you plenty of extra cash to spend on an extra-large popcorn and drink!  Make sure you slurp the drink loudly in the theater before the movie starts so everyone else can look at you.  (Wait a minute—this is the late show.  There aren’t too many others in the theater!) 

When you’ve finished your drink, be sure and put it in a cup holder three seats down.  It helps if you explain to your date, “That’s so I won’t be tempted to dip.”  (Just to help her understand.)  Also, if you know all about the architecture of the movie theater—or the contractors who built it—be sure and share it with your date each time the advertisement slide shows on the screen.  I’m sure she didn’t get it the first three times you mentioned it.

Step 6: The Theater, Part II: During the Movie

After you’ve paid big bucks for this late viewing of a popular movie, make sure you fall asleep.  The sooner the better—if you can’t make it through all the previews, it’s okay.  At least you’ll be refreshed for the drive home.  Every time you wake up and catch her looking at you, apologize and drift back off.  It drives girls nuts!

Step 7: The Ride Home

Once your two-hour nap is complete, walk your date back out to the giant of a vehicle you drove.  Comment on what a great movie that was—maybe she didn’t notice you missed it all.  Assure her that you’re perfectly fine to drive home (after all, you just took a nap).   It wouldn’t hurt if you expressed your concern about the amount of gasoline in your tank as you drive her home. 

            “Gee, I sure hope I have enough gas to get home.”

To really push her over the top, as you pass the last convenience store on your way back to her house, take a long hard look at it and ask your date, “Hey, do they sell gas there?” 

            If you follow these simple steps, I promise you’ll have a date she will never forget
!

He turned me away

For 1,156 nights, I have "done bedtime" with Lincoln.  There have been a few nights when Jeremie tried to put him to bed-or even that Lincoln requested him, but I always ended up taking over.  For the past several months, that mostly meant getting him ready and sitting in the rocker until he'd drifted off to dreamland. Some nights he'd ask me to rock him. Some nights he'd fall asleep quickly; other nights would entail a lot more-stories, counting, singing, reciting the alphabet, naming everybody we know who's already in bed, talking about what we're gonna do tomorrow. But every night, I've been there when his eyes closed.  Until tonight.

It was later than usual, but we still picked all of the toys up and put them back in their places before prepping for bed.  I changed his clothes and gave him his allergy medicine.  Then I tucked him in and went to fix his oil diffuser (he thinks he can't sleep without it), then came back to his room and took my usual seat.  He immediately started whining.  I thought he was upset because I had moved one of his stuffed animals to sit down.  Thinking of just put it in the "wrong" place, I moved it.  That's by it.  He kept whining.  I asked him again what was wrong, but my heart wasn't prepared for the words he spoke; "No Mommy sit down."  He didn't want me to stay.  

I quickly realized that on all of those nights I thought I longed for this day-when he could go to sleep without me-I was wrong.  I don't feel freed.  I don't feel lucky to be going to bed a good half hour earlier.  I don't have a million things to fill in the time.  I miss my baby.

Now, if I could just get him to use the potty...

Remembrance Day

I just saw this quote in Facebook and wanted to share it here so I can always remember it.  

Keep Your Jeans On

It was a gloomy, overcast day.  The skies threatened rain from dawn on.  It matched my mood as fall break draws to a close.  We didn't go anywhere, and J worked a ton of overtime (just like the past two or three months), so Lincoln and I have had lots of time to play.  We've gone for walks and to the park to play. We visited Nana a couple of times, worked puzzles, and even took a trip to Nashville to Monkey Joe's.  Today, we were slated for another one of his favorite places - the grocery store.

Initially, I wanted to wait until the mail ran to see if my replacement credit card came, but we decided to head out early to try and beat the rain.  We ran a couple of errands, got our groceries, and headed home for a late lunch.  When J ended up leaving work an hour late (even after going in 2 hours early), I was glad to have eaten later.  We decided I'd run to McD's to grab us some dinner, and that's where the title of this post comes in to play.  As I went to out in my shoes, I decided to change out of my jeans into some comfy yoga pants.  They didn't exactly match the top I was wearing, but you don't have to match at a drive-thru, right?

I pulled up to the speaker, placed my order, drove forward and paid (with my new credit card, in case you were wondering).  I got to the second window and they lady immediately handed me my drinks.  I waited for a couple of minutes and was handed a sack of food with the instructions to "Have a nice night."  I pulled forward a bit and did my usual glance into the bag and discovered that my order was wrong.  Instead of chicken nuggets, I had 2 cheeseburgers.  Crap. I pulled into a parking space and checked my receipt.  I expected it to be correct because the screen was correct when I ordered.  It was, so I took it in with my bag of food.  There was a line.  And here I was looking like a "Person of Wal-Mart," waiting to plead my case.  They told me to keep the burgers and gave me the nuggets, thanking me for letting them fix their mistake.  (Huh?) 

At least I had the forethought to take off the 3 "I've Been Krogering" stickers Lincoln had plastered on my chest.  Moral of the story: if I'm going to McDonald's (or any other place with the potential for mistakes), I'd better keep my jeans on.  They're gonna get mine wrong.

Emotional Attachment

It's all gone.  Every last remnant.  Today I lost the last remaining (seemingly unrelated) thing that reminded me of my journey to Motherhood - my credit card number.  It's a strange feature of my brain, I know, but I've always had a knack for remembering long strings of numbers.  So, as I gave out my number "freely" and on several occasions during our IVF cycle and subsequent FETs, I unintentionally memorized the sequence - including the 3 digit security code on the back.  I even kept that card in my nightstand after it expired and a new one came.  Like it or not, it was a small piece of the puzzle that brought me my love.  I'm no hoarder, but I'm definitely the sentimental type.
Since that original cycle, that card has expired and I've had two more in its place.  But yesterday, as I was preparing to pay my bill, I noticed a charge that I did not make listed on my statement.  Further investigation showed an identical charge still pending from earlier this week.  Someone had used my card number for some type of subscription, it seemed.  Nothing else, though. (I guess some crooks are crazy - or maybe they were just seeing if they could get away with it before buying something big.) I immediately disputed the charges with my bank and had the account frozen.  This morning, I had a message to call as soon as possible, so I did.  They have removed the charges and are replacing my card.  I know it is totally crazy, but a tiny little part of me is sad about getting a new credit card number.
I know that I won't forget my journey.  If nothing else, it is recorded HERE.  Every single time I quoted it from memory (or, more frequently, keyed it in while ordering something online), I thought of my sweet boy and how that number helped bring him into my life.  But it makes me angry that everyone can't play by the rules, so we law-abiding citizens are the ones who have to change.
On a side note, has it really been over 3 months since I last blogged?  Shame on me!  I've "written" many posts in my head, but couldn't seem to get them logged in, I guess.  I'll try to do better, just in case anyone is still interested...or for my own therapeutic needs.  Whichever the case may be...

Breaking In

No, I haven't turned to a life of crime.  I'm referring to "breaking in" new colleagues. I feel like I've been doing just that for the past 7 years.  Last year, I mentored a new team member, and got a second new team member (we are in teams of 3) in January.  I've been the most veteran 5th grade teacher for the past 3 years, and I was supposed to mentor our newest team member next year.  Today, I found out she's leaving, too.  Not that I blame her - she'll be closer to home - but it definitely wears on a person's nerves.  There are materials we need to prepare for open house that can't be finalized until someone has been hired to fill her position. (Not to mention the KTIP training I have already endured this summer in preparation for the changes in the program).  I know it's not personal, and I am not taking it as such.  It's just disappointing.  I wish I had the same team 2 years in a row...

Breakfast Woes

We're smack dab in the middle of summer break (not really as per the number of days kids have off, but considering the work I have planned before school starts, I'm pretty much halfway done...or more).  Lincoln is a little under the weather (he's on allergy overload), and we'd already planned a quiet day in today.  I have laundry and cleaning to do, and I suspect Paw Patrol is on his agenda.  We're attempting potty training this week, but aren't making a lot of progress.  

All week, I thought we'd go get breakfast today and bring it back home to eat.  So, after getting Lincoln to take his mess, I asked him if he wanted to go get some biscuits and gravy.  "Eggs?" He asked.  Sure, why not.  You can have some eggs.  I don't eat eggs at all.  Unless they are in something (like cookies or cake...).

I needed to run by the bank, too, so I quickly fixed my deposit and we were on our way. When I got to the speaker at the DQ, I ordered an order of biscuits and gravy (for us to share) plus a side of eggs (for Lincoln).  This is what we had when we got home.

Well played, universe.  I know I didn't need biscuits and gravy, but I'd been thinking about it all week.  Now it's ruined for me.  (Childish, maybe, but I don't like what I don't like.) I'll order differently when there is ever a next time.  I ate this instead:

To make matters worse, Lincoln didn't touch it either.  I guess we'll eat better at lunch.

Slacker

Long time, no write, huh?  No, I haven't disappeared from the planet, been abducted by aliens, nor have I fallen victim to the impending zombie apocalypse.  I've just been busy.  Not too busy to drop a line here and there to anyone who may still actually read my blog, but I guess it's just not been a priority.  It's funny that I love to write so much, yet I never take the time to do it.  J has asked me for years when I'm going to write a book and make him rich (insert laughter here).
The truth is, I've always wanted to write a book, but I have never been inspired to do so.  I'm a pretty boring person, so "write what you know" wouldn't really work for me.  I'd have to have readers to sell a book, after all.  And novels with an underlying IF theme have been done.  So, I suppose until I have something of substance to share with the world, I'll just stay here in my little cozy corner of the Internet.  Barely noticed, yet very much connected to the readers that I know about.
Lincoln and I are going to soak up as much fun this summer as we possibly can.  We went to the movies today.  Yesterday, we put the same puzzle together 15 times.  Maybe it will eventually be warm and dry at the same time and we can go outside to blow bubbles and run around the house and slide (or, as he prefers, push all of out outside toys down the slide).  But I'll be around.  I check in on you all frequently - mostly during "bedtime" while I'm waiting for my little love to drift off to dreamland.  He likes to know I'm near.  So do I.

Squeezing in Memories

As I sit in Lincoln's room while he is drifting off to sleep on this eve of my 35th birthday, my mind is wandering in a zillion directions.  I've thought about what I was doing 10 years ago as I approached the quarter-century mark ( I hadn't even met J) yet.  I've thought about the first birthday I spent with Lincoln.  And as the smell of baby powder wafts from various items in the room, I know it will soon enough be replaced with "big boy" smells, and my heart is sad. I'm not ready to be done rocking babies, and I hate that I didn't get to choose it myself.  I think this has been my most dreaded birthday since my 21st-two weeks after my beloved aunt died suddenly of a heart attack.  

I won't rehash all of the things that this birthday "means," as it seems I've been whining about it in the past few posts.  I guess that just means it's weighed on my mind for quite some time, huh?  I know that age is just a number, and most people guess me younger anyway.  But it doesn't change the facts.  I just wish acceptance was easier.  

Lincn and I went to his favorite place yesterday-the grocery store (no joke).  Aside from putting his shoe back on fifteen thousand times, we had a good day.  Potty training is not going well.  He thinks we're being mean to him if we suggest he sit on the potty.  Tonight we got him a little prize and told him he could have it if he'd pee-pee in the potty.  Of course, I'm the meanie who wouldn't let him open it anyway.  He at least sat down.    Baby steps, I guess...

A Little Bit Sentimental

So I stayed in his room a little longer tonight at bedtime...just to listen to him breathe.

I hugged him a little tighter...

I let him have blueberries, mashed potatoes, and marshmallows for dinner...

I let him stay up later to watch one more clip of his current favorite cartoon...

And tomorrow morning I'll pluck him from his slumber to take to my mom's, knowing it was my own choices that caused him to still be sleepy.  But that's okay.  I'm his mom.  And soon enough, he won't need me to tuck him in or kiss his nose or fill his cup with water, 3 ice cubes, and just a splash of juice.  Time is going at warp speed, and I'm just trying to hang on for the ride and savor all the sights along the way.

Letting Go

I'm trying to let go of a lot of things-dreams, goals, personal struggles.  It's harder than it sounds.  I can't tell you how many times I've started this post.  I keep having to stop for one reason or another and forget to save the post.  Then when I come back, it isn't there anymore.  I'm sure it was better in one of the other drafts, but that moment has fled and new words fill my space.  The meaning will still be there.  It just won't be as pretty.

In just over a month, I will turn 35.  If you had asked me 20 years ago...15 years ago...even 5 years ago how my life would be at 35, I'd have painted a different picture than the one I've got.  I'm desperately trying to come to terms with the fact that I will be the mother of an only child.  I know age is just a number, and in many aspects, I whole heartedly believe that.  But I know what it means for the future of my family.  We're done.  I just wish I wanted to be.  I know I'm being selfish, and it's not like me.  I pray that ever longing mother gets to feel that bond with a child.

I seem to be stressed out all the time, and  not sure how to get it all under control.  Lincoln is not adjusting well to Daylight Saving time, which has made bedtime a nightmare this week, and we are entering "crunch time" at school.  Tonight, I broke my favorite vase while changing the batteries in Lincoln's pillow pet thing that projects stars onto the ceiling, and I just wanted to scream.  There are a lot of things that I'm struggling with right now, most of which I have no control.  But I know that I can control my reactions.  I'm trying to change my ways of thinking-I really am.  But I am failing miserably.  

For now, I'll try to count my blessings and not my baubles.  They are certainly greater than one...

7 Years, 7 Months, 7 Days of Us

I'm not quite sure how I let the day go by uncelebrated (well, at the very least, unrecognized), as I had anticipated it since our 777th day I wedded bliss, but last Saturday (Valentine's Day) marked 7 years, 7 months, and 7 days since we said "I do."  It's not all been smooth, but I couldn't imagine this journey with anyone else.  Thanks, J, for putting up with me.  I know I'm a handful sometimes, but I hope you never doubt my love for you.  May we celebrate the 7s for years to come.

Snowpocalypse 2015

We've had a massive snowstorm this week!  Our yard saw (well, is still buried under) about a foot of snow.  I don't remember ever having that much snow at once!  School has been out all week (4 days since Monday was a holiday), and Lincoln and I are having a blast!  J was even home Monday and Tuesday because the clinic he works for was closed.  We took Lincoln out to play for a while, but he really didn't have the right shoes, so we didn't stay long.  He didn't want to go at first...

He did this a lot.  It's hard to walk in a foot of snow.  

He liked it once he got outside.

Daddy helped him make a snow angel.

Never pass up an opportunity to go down the slide.

Hey, there's snow on my gloves!

Then he didn't want to go in.  Poor baby. I love him so much.

What a month!

So 2015 didn't exactly start with the greatest month.  J's been under the weather quite a bit this month and we've had a lot of sadness.  One of his classmates was hit and killed by a drunk driver a couple of weeks ago, and a few days later, our pastor had a massive heart attack and passed away.  It's been a very tough month in our little community.  I'm thankful that my little family is safe and sound, and all together.

We made our first attempts at potty training.  Yeah, that didn't go so well.  It wouldn't be so bad if Lincoln wasn't such a big kid...diapers don't fit so well anymore.  

Lincoln's sleep regression is getting better.  He still gets out of his bed at least once nearly every night (with an occasional  "gift" of uninterrupted sleep thrown in the mix), but he can now be taken back to his own bed and tucked back in most of the time.  Recently, he's started coming to get me to rake me to the refrigerator for a drink in the middle of the night.

Speaking of Lincoln, his vocabulary has exploded.  He consistently recognizes (and names) the colors red, yellow, green, blue, and white; sometimes pink, black, and orange.  His Mrs. Potato Head has a distinct voice when they play, and Olaf is our new snuggle buddy.  

I've nearly made it an entire month posting daily Instagram pictures.  Sorry I haven't kept up the blog as well...

We've had no snow days, but went to school late one day this past week.  The kiddos are going to get tired of each other if they don't get a surprise day off soon.  But they'll appreciate it when they're done in mid-May!

Empty Containers

I came home from singing practice tonight to find J doing a load of laundry.  I was very appreciative, and even put in a second load when the first went to the drier.  While doing so, I noticed that the bottle of laundry detergent was almost empty...which triggered a new question: do I keep it or toss it?  

This is probably not a dilemma for most people, but I had to use them for my used blood thinner injections while I was expecting Lincoln because the string was too wide to fit in any of the ones the pharmacy ever sent me.  So, will I ever need one again?  Not likely.  But I do believe in miracles.  

I'm the end, I tossed it.  I'm sure I'll do plenty more laundry between now and the beginning of another miracle.

Roller coasters

I love roller coasters-just not the emotional kind.  And boy, it seems like I've sure been on one lately.  It seems like I can cry at the drop of a hat these days. Christmas Eve was especially bad. I can't pinpoint anything that triggered it, but I battled the waterworks all morning.  Made gift sorting and mascara application extremely difficult. We rearranged Lincoln's bedroom to try and give him more play space.  We talked about possibly moving the rocking chair out to give him more room.  *Cue tears.  J said it was dumb, but I just hate the thought of no more babies to rock.  It makes me so very sad.  Selfish, I know.  I just never pictured myself with an only child.  And I know what a burden it is for an only when your parents age and/or are ill.  

Pity party over.  

School starts back tomorrow.  I hope I have lesson plans.  I made several failed attempts to retrieve my documents from home to see (and create if needed), but Lincoln and J have both been sick the past few days, so I couldn't actually go to school to check.  I can wing it tomorrow if need be.  I've done it before.  Here's to Monday...

#LincolnDaily2015

I've decided to document all of the ordinary yet quirky moments of our life with Lincoln this year.  I wish I had started it sooner, but I witnessed a friend complete this on Facebook last year for her son, and I decided to give it a try.  I plan to post these pictures to Facebook and Instagram.  I may include them here, but I will try to post maybe weekly rather than daily for those who may not want to see all that lincoln is doing.  I thought about starting a different blog just for this project, but I have enough trouble keeping up this one!

Today's post:

Lincoln loves his new Mr. Potato Head-even if his parts don't end up in the right place.