Goddess

Like many others that wear this amazing badge of ‘mother’, I’m a planer. A worrier,  a doer.  I multitask, organize and end the day with a million scenarios playing out in my head. Even the mundane tasks are not immune to my neurosis – every decision an opportunity for research, public opinion polling and hours of agonizing. My journals turn quickly from romantic prose to to-do lists and pro’s and con lists of whatever I’m debating at the time:

·         One kid /two?

·         CO/DC?

·         Disposable/Cloth?

·         Vegan/Flexitarian?

·         Public/Private?

·         Missionary or….Missionary?

So imagine my surprise when I found myself, hours after running my second half marathon with 15K other women on a postcard-perfect day in DC, propped up on a table in a tattoo parlor!

I hadn’t yelped them. I didn’t check for health code violations. I sat down and gave Dan my foot. Completely trusting this stranger with a goatee, a kind face and a needle.

“What do you think your family will say?” My friend asked in a conspiratorial whisper.  “I don’t know” I answered, “it’s not for them, it’s for me”.

And now I have wings reminding me that a Goddess lives here. One that knows that the answers will come when she stops asking the questions.

                           ~ Nike ~ the Goddess of Strength, Speed & Victory and She Resides with Me!

You'll Always Be My Baby

My little man, it's been quite the week! You are officially sans tonsils and adenoids and as expected, you did much better than your manic mama with the whole thing. You were such a brave guy and thanks to the fabulous book, Goodbye Tonsils were so well prepared for it - wowing the surgical center with your pronunciation of ane-sthesi-ologist and your in-depth questions. So many questions. We had a goodbye tonsil party with a cake a la Juliana and by the time we woke before dawn to head to Georgetown Hospital, you were excited that the big day was finally here.

So excited you hopefully didn't notice my forced smile, my shortness of breath and my utter disbelief that we were about to load you up and and hand you off to some of the highest qualified strangers with sharp sticks and "magic masks" in the country.

You see, though you now look like a teenager in comparison to your baby sis and think you're Sooooo Biggggg you're still just 3. Still a baby and most importantly, still my baby. I see now why the creepy lady in that book of yours that always makes me cry/wince climbs through the window of her grown son to rock him while sleeping.

Not only do I understand, I  fully expect that I'll attempt the same perilous climb so if you could plan ahead and opt for a ranch style single story layout for dear old mama's sake, I'd appreciate it!

RBN, 4 weeks

You may now have a baby sister. You may now be the big brother. You may know how to count and sing and dance and do somethings without me right next to you. But this week, I got my baby boy back  - the one that needs me in the night. The one that has such big emotions that sometimes only a long hug and some deep breaths can make it all ok again. Thank you for reminding us both that no matter how big you get or how busy I am, you'll always be my baby. Always.