The Perfect Storm

Standing in the shower, I thought to myself “It’s past time for another blog post. But I really don’t know what to write about.” One of my goals when I set out to write this blog was to share glimpses of our life without over sharing the mundane.

While it was a big weekend around here when Ethan began sitting up, we are proud of his advanced verbal skills, and we think his two little teeth are adorable, I am keenly aware that these are milestones that all children experience. If I shared the day to day the take away for those with little ones would be “Been there. Done that.” And readers without babes just wouldn’t understand the absolute thrill of mastering the pincer grasp.

As I pondered possible topics about which to wax poetic, fate was rubbing her dirty little hands together and echoing a loud cackle. Within less than ten minutes time, the perfect post unfolded before me.

We generally wake up around six in the morning and after I feed Ethan, he enjoys lying on our bed, head propped on a pillow, surrounded by toys to occupy him while we get ready for the day. As you can imagine I am distracted no less than 15 times by this adorable ball of baby chub giggling and rolling around our bed. Over the past few months Ethan has become increasingly ticklish, especially on his neck. He has figured out that if he scrunches up his shoulder and turns his head he can essentially lock down that soft little neck from the kisses, all the while cracking himself up with pure joy.

So on that fateful morning as I approached him to sneak some sugar, the perfect storm began brewing. I lean down, go right for the sweet spot on his neck, he scrunches his shoulder, turns his head, giggles, and throws up. Right into my open mouth. Yes. You read that correctly. HE threw up in MY mouth. Holy smoke. I turn toward the bathroom and head straight for the sink as I hold my mouth and tongue as still as possible as to not agitate what is now resting there. I spit and rinse. And spit and rinse. And spit and rinse. And then let out an “Uuuugggh” only to turn and see that wee one looking right at me with a twinkle in his eye and a smirk on his face.

And there you have it. A glimpse into our life. Not mundane. And a story definitely worthy of the blog.

The Chosen One

On my 17th birthday I sat nervously in the bleachers of a gym awaiting the awards ceremony for the state science fair. My project (whose title is too long and nerdy to mention here) had won first place at the school, county, and regional level. My anticipation rose as names were called for each medal in my category. Honorable mention - nope, not me. Third place - not my name either. Second place - not me again. Oh well…it was a fun ride. First place - Jennifer Smith. Oh my. No way. How exciting. I confidently marched down to take my place on the podium. I leaned down lowering my head for the gentleman to place the medal around my neck. And then rose back up to stand as proud as if I had just claimed gold in the Olympics. I stood tall that day as the big winner.

But I also lost something. Something very important to me. When we got back to New Bern I realized that my little pillow had been left at the hotel. So my mom called the front desk, explained that this was no ordinary pillow, described what it looked like, and asked if they had found it. They promised to keep an eye open for it.

I was distressed. How could I possibly sleep without my half pillow? It was made completely of foam – a thin sheet folded in half, filled with small shredded bits of foam, and stitched on all sides. It was so soft and smelled so good. It was about half the size of a standard pillow and I stacked it atop whatever regular pillow I was sleeping with. This little thing went everywhere with me for as long as I can remember. But now it was gone. And I would never see it again.

Almost all children have a “little pillow.” My sister had her “B” – a gray knitted blanket that in its current state is now just a pile of yarn. My cousins all had there own things - Megan had a small brown down comforter that now has no feathers in it. Dale had a waffle weave receiving blanket that he named Nana. My college roommates all had their bears tucked on their bunks. It is the classic story of the Velveteen Rabbit.

I have sat many a night feeding Ethan in his nursery all the while studying the toy basket full of stuffed animals. I wonder which one will make the cut. Which of these cuddly animals or blankets will become his Velveteen Rabbit? Who among these furry friends will be the chosen one? Who will be so loved that their fur is rubbed away and their eye has fallen off? Will it be the classic Pooh from Aunt Sarah? Or maybe the round cow from Mary. Perhaps the new donkey from Michael. Maybe the soft rabbit from the Easter Bunny. It’s possible that Ethan’s pick hasn’t even been given to him yet.

I’m not sure which one will be the chosen one. But what I am sure of is this: I will go to the ends of the earth to make sure that his “little pillow” never knows the fate that mine did. If I end up buried in a laundry hamper in the basement of a hotel searching for his special friend, so be it. And while I eventually was able to sleep without my foamy companion, I know deep down that if it was still around I would have it tucked under my regular pillow right now. And I would sleep like a baby.

P.S. – The current front runner is a frog blanket (seen in the picture above) given to us by our friend Liz that we have creatively named Froggie. Ethan adores it and by that I mean he loves to try to eat it. (But for some reason I think a frog head/blanket body might not be the final choice.)

Mother's Day - Concrete Things

In honor of Mother's Day, here are my thoughts on being a Mommy. Orginally posted on one of my favorite blogs - Design Mom.

I am believer in concrete things. I am skeptic of ghosts and psychics and sensing things. But sometimes something happens that makes me realize that not everything is black and white and crystal clear.

I think before my mind knew that there was a teeny tiny life in my belly, my heart understood exactly what was going on. When the wee one had been around for just ten days and we were seven days from finding out that he was on the way, my mind was going at a breakneck speed thinking about a thousand possibilities while my heart calmly decided it was time to put pen to paper (actually, fingers to keys).

And this letter of intention came to be…ignoring the minutia of my mind and simply saying what my heart truly knew was already real.

I will teach my child the best life lessons I know. I will teach them the importance of service, strength of character, deep faith, abiding compassion, intentional action, beauty of spirit, and that, in the end, it only matters that we have loved each other and cared for one another. That things, and titles, and numbers, and status are irrelevant. And that when you leave this world, whether at 9 years or 90 years, you must have made a difference.

I will be the keeper of memories for my child. I will record their milestones, their funny stories, their triumphs, their stumbles. I will take lots of pictures and write lots of clever and witty things. I will create books of memories that they will treasure when they grow old and nostalgic. And I will share these photos and videos and writings with the friends and family around us so they can be a part of how special my child truly is.

I will give my child a beautiful home with his or her own little space in our world. It will be colorful and creative. It will be a retreat that fosters fantasy, imagination, wonder, and growth. And it will be okay to be whatever and whoever you want to in that place. No apologies or excuses necessary.

I will play with my child. I will take the time to turn off the tv, close down the computer, take time away from work and errands and adult things to spend time laughing and playing and creating and living life with my child. We will be so silly together and not have a care in the world. We will make all sorts of things like toys and crafts and books and funny little keepsakes. It will be okay to make a mess. We will plan great adventures and go on fantastic journeys. And we will sing songs loudly and off key. And we will dance with no rhythm. And it will be so much fun.

I will be patient. I will be understanding. I will speak kindly. I will be respectful. I will be firm. I will guiding. I will listen. I will require good manners. I will cry. I will celebrate. I will give. I will care. I will love. And I will be a wonderful mommy.

Top Ten at 10

Hard as it is to believe, Wee Warner is 10 weeks old! Time sure flies when you are having fun, huh? Well, the little guy is still as cute as can be. He is growing like a weed (over 11 lbs.). He loves to smile and is on the verge of an all out giggle. We adore him and are quite proud of this amazing, precious, tiny being we created.

In honor of his tenth birthday, here are a few top tens.

Top Ten Cutest Things about Ethan
1. fat thighs
2. little toes
3. pursed lips
4. pouty lips
5. almost giggling smile
6. wiggly legs
7. chubby cheeks
8. jazz hands
9. button nose
10. fuzzy soft hair

Top Ten Things We’ve Learned from Ethan
1. Even at 4 in the morning when you can barely hold your eyes open, you adore that little one.
2. Once you divide your day into 1 ½ hour blocks, all things seem possible.
3. A soft whimper is adorable. A loud scream can make you lose your mind.
4. You can feel quite accomplished at the end of a day in which you have bathed, dressed, and even made it to the grocery store.
5. Daycare is stupid expensive.
6. You can add ‘ie’ or ‘y’ to the end of any word to make it baby friendly.
7. Being sprayed with pee during a diaper change should be the lesser of your concerns. It is the other spray that is startling and much more dangerous.
8. Wearing footie pajamas all day is the way to go…especially if the footies are an adorable animal.
9. It is much easier to sleep in someone else’s arms than all by your lonesome self.
10. No matter how rough it gets from the screaming and pooing to the constant eating and lack of sleeping, love really does conquer all.

Top Ten Things We’ve Taught Ethan
1. Don’t be tacky. If you have gaudy lawn decorations people will talk about you when they are out walking their baby.
2. Daytime TV is quite interesting but not something you want to partake in on a regular basis.
3. You should bathe often as no one likes people who smell sour.
4. All you really need is something yummy to eat and lots of cuddling and you’ll be happy.
5. Snow days are the best because you get even more bundled up and cuddly.
6. Good manners are important…you should always excuse yourself after passing gas.
7. Take as many naps as you can when you can.
8. Welcome visitors into your home with open arms and they will return often…usually with gifts.
9. Dress your best when going out…you never know who you’ll run into.
10. The more love you give the more love you get.

Top Ten Photos of Ethan

Ok so there are more than ten but they are all pretty darn cute, don't you agree?

Finding Christmas

The ornaments are nestled all snug in the attic and the stockings have been tucked in boxes with care. Cookies baked, cards mailed, gifts exchanged, thank you notes written. And the tree was hauled away from the curb today. Christmas has come and gone.

But even with all that done, I really had to search for it this year. You see, I am a sentimental person. I honor tradition. I find meaning in little things. Joy comes from creating holidays made up of activities and happenings that mean something to me, to us, to our family year after year.

I enjoy the hustle and bustle of shopping amidst the holiday glitz while the air outside brings a chill. I revel in evenings full of baking all sorts of cookies. Late night drives around varied neighborhoods to see over-the-top lighting displays are always a fun time. My sister and I love filling and hanging the socks on the mantle at Nana's house. And most of all, I find the deepest meaning for the hullabaloo of the season in the stillness at the altar on Christmas Eve. As the service comes to a close, lights dimmed, congregation kneeling, organ silenced, singing Silent Night, I come to the realization that no matter what has been done and what has been left undone, Christmas will be a glorious day filled with the love of time spent with one another.

But this year all the presents were purchased and wrapped long before the first decoration was hung. There were no late night trips to view houses all lit up and while the goodies all got made, it was solely by Brett. And on Christmas Eve, I sent everyone off to church without me.

And that is when I found Christmas. That night I sat quietly in the living room illuminated by the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights. I tuned the television to the Sounds of the Season music station and, by no coincidence, Silent Night filled the air. As I hummed the tune I looked down at my arms to see the greatest gift we had been given–precious Ethan. And there I found Christmas–different than before but with the promise of so many new traditions and joys to come.

Concrete Things

One of my favorite bloggers, Design Mom, recently announced that she is pregnant with her fifth(!) child and to celebrate was sharing birth stories of friends and readers. I shared with her a post I had written for the Wee Warner blog but had not yet published.

My story is more of a pregnancy story than a birth story but after rereading it, I suppose it can just be called a life story. She posted it last night so visit her blog and enjoy: Concrete Things.

Introducing Ethan Thomas Warner!

1. Ethan
2. Mom and Ethan at about ½ hour old
3. Mom and Ethan admiring each other
4. Rex Hospital Volunteers knit hats for each newborn
5. Proud Papa and Ethan
6. Snuggling Dad
7. Holding on to Mom
8. Happy baby
9. Cuddling with Dad
10. On the way home
11. Our new family
12. All settled at home