The Christmas season is making me very nostalgic. I have been thinking a lot about the traditions we had when I was a kid and the traditions that we are starting with J now.
As a kid, the first tradition of the season was getting our Christmas tree. We always had a real tree at our house and my mom was always the judge of which tree to get. We would don our coats, hats and boots and trudge around a tree farm until we found just the tree she wanted. She would slowly walk around the tree deciding if it was full enough and had no big holes. We would cut it down, strap it atop the car and drive it home. There were a few years that the tree was pretty big and I imagine it was quite comical to see what appeared to be an evergreen on wheels driving down the road. We would get the tree home and almost always had to cut at least six inches off of the bottom for it to fit it the house. We never seemed to be able to judge the size of the tree well and it inevitably occupied most of the living room. My dad even had to create his own homemade tree stand to accommodate the size of our trees. The standard store bought stands weren't cutting it. Several 2 by 4's and some guide wires later, our tree was up and we were in business.
Then my mom got out the ornaments. This was almost ceremonious each year. Each family member had their own ornaments to add to the tree and unpacking them each year was exciting. Every ornament had a story or a reason behind it. Many of those ornaments still hang on our tree today. Once the tree was nearly done, my dad would put the angel on top and my mom would add the three Wisemen ornaments (ornaments kept from her childhood). Then the tree was complete and it was time to put the Nativity under it. I always thought our trees were beautiful. The ornaments weren't color coordinated or themed. But, they were our family history. Each Christmas that our family celebrated was represented in ornaments on the tree (including the construction paper ornaments made by my parents for their first Christmas together when they couldn't afford real ones). When J and I decorate our tree, I tell him the story of each ornament, many of which my mom gave me when I moved out. I can look and find at least one ornament for each year from the year of my birth to the present. And just like my parents got an ornament for me each year, I get one for J and when he has his own family and tree one day, he will have those ornaments to share with his family.
One of my other favorite traditions was writing our letters to Santa Claus. My parents still have our letters and every now and then they pull one out on Christmas and read it. The ones penned by me and my sister are usually lengthy and quite detailed. We elaborately listed and described each toy that Santa should bring. Then there are the ones for my brother. It is clear that for the first few years of his life, mom and dad let my sister and me write his letters too. Our letters typically read like a thesaurus. They are full of adjectives and run on for pages. My brother's letters say things like "Dear Santa, I want a ball."
Then we would mail our letters to the North Pole and a couple weeks later, one would come back to us from Santa, whose handwriting looks a lot like my dad's! Last year, we started this same tradition with J. We wrote a letter and mailed it. And my dad wrote one back to J from Santa. This year, J wrote his letter all on his own. He listed out the items of choice and drew a picture of each one, just in case.
On Christmas Eve, we would start our holiday celebration with dinner at home. We would have spinach and salmon soup (among other things) as those were traditional foods that my mom would have on Christmas as a child. I love spinach soup, but I am certain no one likes salmon soup except my mom and grandpa. After dinner, we would head to church for the Christmas Eve service, which always ended by candle light with the singing of Silent Night. After church, we would drive around looking at Christmas lights before heading home. Once there, we would leave cookies and milk for Santa and we do this with J too. Although we also leave oats and carrots for the reindeer. After all, they are working had and get might hungry too!
On Christmas morning, we would wake up and run to the tree to see if Santa had come. Mom and dad always made us sit in front of the Christmas tree for a photo and then we would open our gifts. Once we had them all unwrapped, we would spend the day assembling new toys, playing new games and watching new movies. Usually all while wearing new p.j.'s, socks or other clothes. We even spent a few Christmas mornings standing out in the snowy yard clad only in jammies trying out new toys that couldn't be used indoors.
All in all, my childhood memories of Christmas are great. We didn't get every single thing our heart desired, but we always got more than enough. And I know now that what our gifts were didn't really matter anyway. Because as you can see, what I remember isn't any one gift or toy. It is the traditions and the time together as a family.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Giving & Getting
Once again, Christmas is upon us. Like every kid, J is super excited. He has a list for Santa and we will soon be writing a letter to him. And like every kid, J wants just about everything he sees. But, he has limited his list to four very manageable items this year.
This year J wants: a Darth Vader, a General Grievous (also a Star Wars character), an excavator and a game for his Mobigo. I have it on good authority that Santa has this one in the bag!
But, with receiving gifts should come giving. Too often the focus is on what we get and we forget how fortunate we are to get anything at all. As adults, we know there is nothing better than seeing someone open a gift that you have given them and seeing their face light up with excitement. For kids, that is a harder concept to grasp. And one that has to be taught. Yes, it is fun to get gifts, but having a giving spirit is important too. I personally believe that this is an idea that is taught and that too many kids are taught to be greedy, selfish and entitled now days (imagine me talking in my best old curmudgeon voice here).
With that in mind, we have been trying several ways to get J into the giving spirit. One thing we do annually is Toys for Tots. Each year we donate a few toys for kids who otherwise might not get any Christmas Gifts. This year was the toughest so far for J. He REALLY liked a couple of the toys we were planning to donate. At first, I thought we were going to have a meltdown of epic proportions over donating the toys, but J pulled it together, put on a brave face and was okay with leaving the donation in the bin.
Each year I allow J to be in charge of filling his dad's Christmas stocking. He gets to choose the items for the stocking and we make a card for his dad. Then on Christmas Eve, we sneak the stuff into the stocking to be ready for Christmas morning. Last year, J had a blast picking things out. So much so that we overflowed the stocking. He was so excited that I couldn't tell him to stop!
Also, at J's school they have an annual gift exchange. Each year I have taken J to the store and let him choose the toy he wants to get for his friend. I am sure some of the other parents have thought "why did they choose THAT toy for my child?" The answer is simple: by letting J choose, he has to think about the other child, consider their likes and dislikes and choose a gift that HE thinks will make them happy. I think that is important for him. I could pick it myself, but this way, he is involved and gets to really consider giving a gift. He is also in charge of wrapping it himself.
But, the most fun project we have done is a new one this year. J has a love for cutting, pasting, coloring and creating "projects". This year, I directed that into Christmas Card making. We took wrapping paper scraps, stickers, ribbon and bows and glued them to construction paper. I helped, but J did most of the work and he signed each card with various greetings: Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas or Peace, Joy, Noel etc. He made about 20 cards total. I then brought the cards to work and contacted family members. We wanted to sell each card for $1. The money collected would be sent to St. Jude's Children's Hospital. The response was overwhelming! People were asking for 5 cards or more each! The donation hasn't been sent yet, but currently he has made over $50 to send in. If you ask him, he will tell you that the money if for "sick people". And he has proudly stuck each donation in the money envelope that I have kept for him. I hope to do something of this variety annually so that in the season of "getting", J will keep in mind that giving is important too.
Over the next few weeks, I have big plans for projects: cinnamon tree ornaments, salt dough ornaments and decorative cookies. Some will be attached to gifts, some will go with J to share at school and others will be shared at work. Hopefully we are laying the foundation for J to grow into a generous young man.
This year J wants: a Darth Vader, a General Grievous (also a Star Wars character), an excavator and a game for his Mobigo. I have it on good authority that Santa has this one in the bag!
But, with receiving gifts should come giving. Too often the focus is on what we get and we forget how fortunate we are to get anything at all. As adults, we know there is nothing better than seeing someone open a gift that you have given them and seeing their face light up with excitement. For kids, that is a harder concept to grasp. And one that has to be taught. Yes, it is fun to get gifts, but having a giving spirit is important too. I personally believe that this is an idea that is taught and that too many kids are taught to be greedy, selfish and entitled now days (imagine me talking in my best old curmudgeon voice here).
With that in mind, we have been trying several ways to get J into the giving spirit. One thing we do annually is Toys for Tots. Each year we donate a few toys for kids who otherwise might not get any Christmas Gifts. This year was the toughest so far for J. He REALLY liked a couple of the toys we were planning to donate. At first, I thought we were going to have a meltdown of epic proportions over donating the toys, but J pulled it together, put on a brave face and was okay with leaving the donation in the bin.
Each year I allow J to be in charge of filling his dad's Christmas stocking. He gets to choose the items for the stocking and we make a card for his dad. Then on Christmas Eve, we sneak the stuff into the stocking to be ready for Christmas morning. Last year, J had a blast picking things out. So much so that we overflowed the stocking. He was so excited that I couldn't tell him to stop!
Also, at J's school they have an annual gift exchange. Each year I have taken J to the store and let him choose the toy he wants to get for his friend. I am sure some of the other parents have thought "why did they choose THAT toy for my child?" The answer is simple: by letting J choose, he has to think about the other child, consider their likes and dislikes and choose a gift that HE thinks will make them happy. I think that is important for him. I could pick it myself, but this way, he is involved and gets to really consider giving a gift. He is also in charge of wrapping it himself.
But, the most fun project we have done is a new one this year. J has a love for cutting, pasting, coloring and creating "projects". This year, I directed that into Christmas Card making. We took wrapping paper scraps, stickers, ribbon and bows and glued them to construction paper. I helped, but J did most of the work and he signed each card with various greetings: Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas or Peace, Joy, Noel etc. He made about 20 cards total. I then brought the cards to work and contacted family members. We wanted to sell each card for $1. The money collected would be sent to St. Jude's Children's Hospital. The response was overwhelming! People were asking for 5 cards or more each! The donation hasn't been sent yet, but currently he has made over $50 to send in. If you ask him, he will tell you that the money if for "sick people". And he has proudly stuck each donation in the money envelope that I have kept for him. I hope to do something of this variety annually so that in the season of "getting", J will keep in mind that giving is important too.
Over the next few weeks, I have big plans for projects: cinnamon tree ornaments, salt dough ornaments and decorative cookies. Some will be attached to gifts, some will go with J to share at school and others will be shared at work. Hopefully we are laying the foundation for J to grow into a generous young man.
Monday, October 15, 2012
DId I really say that?
I was reading a blog written by another mom earlier today. She wrote about the things she has said to her children during their lifetime and how she never thought she would say certain things to them.
I think we all have those "mom" phrases on our list that we vowed never to say, but have had to utter at some point. For example:
"Because I said so."
"Eat all your food, there are starving kids in China!"
"Don't make me pull this car over!"
We have all been there. Your child is acting up, you are frustrated, tired and the first thing that pops into your head are the tried and true momisms that you hear during your childhood.
But, raising J has prompted me to say some things that I never would have thought I would say. Here are a few of my faves:
"Are you kidding me? How did you fit that Ipod in there? Well, we're never getting that back."
"J what is this brown spot on your carpet? Is it dirt? It had better be dirt!"
"You aren't wearing underwear? Why aren't you wearing underwear?" (This one was when the dr. asked me to pull his pants down for shots only for me to discover he was going commando.
"Why am I sticking to the floor?"
"I don't care if your friend "so and so" doesn't have to wear a stocking cap. His mom apparently doesn't care if he catches pneumonia."
"Well, if you didn't drool so much, your chin wouldn't get chapped like that. So, stop drooling so much."
"You have been chewing that same piece of pork chop for 15 minutes. Just swallow it already!"
"If you are hungry enough for ice cream, you have room to finish your green beans/chicken/potatoes/taco/spaghetti/corn."
"Jackson, you may not start another activity until you pick up the last three that you had out."
"You have a choice. You can do it by yourself. Or, I will count to 3. If I get to 3, and you haven't done it, I will do it for you. And you won't like that."
"Ugh - don't put that paint brush your mouth!"
"I know you are excited, but you need to calm down a little. You are hopping around here like a monkey on speed."
"Don't growl at people. You are boy, not an animal. Speak with words."
"If you are going to pee outside, Pee downwind and not near where you play."
"Jackson, mommy is not a jungle gym."
I am going to have to start keeping track of some of the more interesting things I say. I am sure I would have blog material for years to come!
I think we all have those "mom" phrases on our list that we vowed never to say, but have had to utter at some point. For example:
"Because I said so."
"Eat all your food, there are starving kids in China!"
"Don't make me pull this car over!"
We have all been there. Your child is acting up, you are frustrated, tired and the first thing that pops into your head are the tried and true momisms that you hear during your childhood.
But, raising J has prompted me to say some things that I never would have thought I would say. Here are a few of my faves:
"Are you kidding me? How did you fit that Ipod in there? Well, we're never getting that back."
"J what is this brown spot on your carpet? Is it dirt? It had better be dirt!"
"You aren't wearing underwear? Why aren't you wearing underwear?" (This one was when the dr. asked me to pull his pants down for shots only for me to discover he was going commando.
"Why am I sticking to the floor?"
"I don't care if your friend "so and so" doesn't have to wear a stocking cap. His mom apparently doesn't care if he catches pneumonia."
"Well, if you didn't drool so much, your chin wouldn't get chapped like that. So, stop drooling so much."
"You have been chewing that same piece of pork chop for 15 minutes. Just swallow it already!"
"If you are hungry enough for ice cream, you have room to finish your green beans/chicken/potatoes/taco/spaghetti/corn."
"Jackson, you may not start another activity until you pick up the last three that you had out."
"You have a choice. You can do it by yourself. Or, I will count to 3. If I get to 3, and you haven't done it, I will do it for you. And you won't like that."
"Ugh - don't put that paint brush your mouth!"
"I know you are excited, but you need to calm down a little. You are hopping around here like a monkey on speed."
"Don't growl at people. You are boy, not an animal. Speak with words."
"If you are going to pee outside, Pee downwind and not near where you play."
"Jackson, mommy is not a jungle gym."
I am going to have to start keeping track of some of the more interesting things I say. I am sure I would have blog material for years to come!
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Topsail Island Vacation
Last week was Jackson and my first real vacation together. We have taken short weekend trips here and there, but this was our first real time away from home (9 days!!!). Unfortunately, Ryan couldn't travel with us due to work. But, that did not stop us from having a fantastic beach vacation!
Our traveling caravan departed on September 7. My sister and I drove the kids (Jackson and cousin Anna, age 2) in our Flex. My parents and brother hauled all of our junk in their car and led the way! It was a long drive (20 hours), but for the most part, the kids did really well. We packed everything but the kitchen sink to keep them occupied and distracted. Eventually they fell asleep and we decided to drive as far as we could while they slept. We arrived at the beach on the 8th around 1p.m.
We weren't able to get into our rental house at that time, but we had access to the beach. We unpacked some sand toys and introduced the kids to the ocean. J was in awe! He loves digging in his sandbox, so an entire beach was like heaven to my little boy! The waves, however, took a little getting used to. When he first set foot on the beach, he ran right up to the edge of the water to check it out. He clearly didn't understand how waves work because when the tide came rushing back in at him, he let out a yell and started sprinting up the beach with a wave hot on his heels! By week's end, he would wade out into the surf and liked to try to jump the waves.
The week started off with visits from two cousins who live in North Carolina. It was great catching up and visiting with them. We also spent the first few days just playing on the beach. We tried boogie boarding, built sand castles, searched for shells and tried to find crabs. We walked to the nearby swimming pool a couple times too. Jackson liked finding the crab holes on the beach and would often be seen with his face stuck over a crab hole seeing if it was occupied. Luckily, none were!
On Wednesday, we headed out for some mini golf and dinner. We found a great putt putt place and played 18 holes. J scored about a 176. We would report our scores to the score keeper and when J was asked, he would claim anywhere from 10-30 strokes per hole. He apparently didn't grasp that the lower scores are better :) Afterwards, we decided to drive the go karts. J loved this! He is definitely a speed freak and loved passing the other go karts. And since I can be a little (okay a lot) competitive, we cut off a lot of drivers too, which he also thought was hilarious!
On Thursday, we chartered a small boat for a few hours. Captain Phil took us all over the Intercoastal Waterway in search of dolphins, turtles and gators with no luck. But, he did take us to a small secluded beach crawling with Fiddler Crabs. We also found a few hermit crabs. After fashioning a make shift box, we were able to tote them back to the house and keep them for a couple days. My dad braved the water in a kayak at the end of the week in order to return them to the wild. I am sure they were quite relieved little critters! J loved the boat ride. He loved checking out the shrimp boats, looking for shells and wading in the water.
We relaxed for the day on Friday before packing up and heading home on Saturday. We were sad to leave the house, but I was ready to be home. When we arrived home, J was super excited to see his dad. I don't think he left his dad's side for the entire first day we were back! The next day, J came out of his room dragging a tote bag stuffed with books and toys. He announced that I needed to load them into the Flex because he and his dad were going back to the beach house for another vacation!
All in all, it was a great week. We were blessed with incredible weather (80's and sunny all week!). We had no major problems traveling and everyone made it there and back in one piece! Sure we had a few bumps in the road: Anna had a tummy ailment and fever for a couple days, we battled biting flies on the beach and we all had cranky moments here and there. But overall, it was a wonderful time. I think J was the perfect age to really enjoy himself at the beach. He was big enough to brave the waves, loved digging in the sand and everything was an exciting new adventure for him! Can't wait for our next vacation adventure!
Our traveling caravan departed on September 7. My sister and I drove the kids (Jackson and cousin Anna, age 2) in our Flex. My parents and brother hauled all of our junk in their car and led the way! It was a long drive (20 hours), but for the most part, the kids did really well. We packed everything but the kitchen sink to keep them occupied and distracted. Eventually they fell asleep and we decided to drive as far as we could while they slept. We arrived at the beach on the 8th around 1p.m.
It was really hard waking up to this for a week (HA!)
Our humble abode for the week.
Playing in the waves.
The week started off with visits from two cousins who live in North Carolina. It was great catching up and visiting with them. We also spent the first few days just playing on the beach. We tried boogie boarding, built sand castles, searched for shells and tried to find crabs. We walked to the nearby swimming pool a couple times too. Jackson liked finding the crab holes on the beach and would often be seen with his face stuck over a crab hole seeing if it was occupied. Luckily, none were!
J looking for a crab. I suggested he not stick his head in the hole, but
he thought it would work this way!
Trying to boogie board.
On Wednesday, we headed out for some mini golf and dinner. We found a great putt putt place and played 18 holes. J scored about a 176. We would report our scores to the score keeper and when J was asked, he would claim anywhere from 10-30 strokes per hole. He apparently didn't grasp that the lower scores are better :) Afterwards, we decided to drive the go karts. J loved this! He is definitely a speed freak and loved passing the other go karts. And since I can be a little (okay a lot) competitive, we cut off a lot of drivers too, which he also thought was hilarious!
On Thursday, we chartered a small boat for a few hours. Captain Phil took us all over the Intercoastal Waterway in search of dolphins, turtles and gators with no luck. But, he did take us to a small secluded beach crawling with Fiddler Crabs. We also found a few hermit crabs. After fashioning a make shift box, we were able to tote them back to the house and keep them for a couple days. My dad braved the water in a kayak at the end of the week in order to return them to the wild. I am sure they were quite relieved little critters! J loved the boat ride. He loved checking out the shrimp boats, looking for shells and wading in the water.
Cheeeeeeese!
Boating crew with our fearless Captain Phil!
All in all, it was a great week. We were blessed with incredible weather (80's and sunny all week!). We had no major problems traveling and everyone made it there and back in one piece! Sure we had a few bumps in the road: Anna had a tummy ailment and fever for a couple days, we battled biting flies on the beach and we all had cranky moments here and there. But overall, it was a wonderful time. I think J was the perfect age to really enjoy himself at the beach. He was big enough to brave the waves, loved digging in the sand and everything was an exciting new adventure for him! Can't wait for our next vacation adventure!
I think this sums up his feelings on the trip! Two thumbs up!
All smiles on the boat :)
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Jackson's Birth
Jackon's 4th birthday is tomorrow! I feel like I blinked and four years went by. There is nothing that prepares you for how fast life goes. People tell you all the time, but until you are experiencing it, you can't begin to understand. With J's birthday here, I have been thinking a lot about when he was born.
We decided before I ever got pregnant with J that we would only be having one child. So, when I got that positive pregnancy test, I was overjoyed and determined to remember every second, every experience and to make the most of whatever came my way. I was blessed with a flawfless pregnancy. I never had morning sickness. I never had swollen feet or ankles. I never felt miserable even though I was my most pregnant in July and August. I gained (to the immense pleasure of my ob/gyn) 33 pounds and on August 22, 2008, I had a perfect 7 pound 6 ounce baby boy.
Me at 34 weeks. Yes, the belly grew for 5 more weeks. Yes, it was huge.
On the day J was born, I was still 5 days shy of my due date. I wasn't planning to have a baby that day. I had things to do. I had to work, had plans with a friend after work and the next morning I had an appointment to get fitted for a bridesmaids dress for my sister's wedding. There just wasn't time that day to have a baby. I woke up feeling a little more tired than usual, but chalked it up to having over exterted myself at aerobics the night before. I called into work and took the morning off. Then I cleaned my house. Top to bottom (nesting anyone?). After all, I was going to be gone that weekend and needed to get it done some time! Then I watched some Olympics (water polo and rowing, if I recall) to relax before I headed to work.
I was having contractions, but nothing stronger or more painful than the Braxton Hicks contractions I had been having for over a month. And they were all over the place: three minutes apart, then eleven, then two, then nine etc. No gross mucas plug moment or water breaking that I had heard so much about and feared would occur while I was in court testifying or at some other mortifying moment. I finished out the day at work and headed to the park to meet a friend. She had just gotten back from vacation, so her boys played while she showed me vaca pics and we sat in the shade. By then my contractions were stronger, but still not very steady. And they didn't hurt as much as I had always feared they would, so I couldn't be in labor, right?
After the park, I went home, grabbed a shower and layed down, still convinced I was just tired. But, by about 8pm, those contractions were coming every three minutes, lasting a minute each time. We called the dr and he told us to head in. I told my hubby that we had better get going. After all, I was sure I wasn't going to be having a baby and I wanted to get to the hospital and get sent home at a decent hour. I had to be up early the next day.
After a harrowing drive (seriously, my husand was a wreck), we arrived at the hospital at around 9p.m. My exterior calm must have convinced the nurse that I was not an urgent case and we were placed in a triage room. And then forgotten about. We seriously sat in that room for what seemed like an eternity before I had to use the restroom and discovered that something serious was going on. We rang the nurse who came in and hooked me up to a monitor and started asking tons of questions. She kept stopping her questions each time the monitor registered a contraction and said "you are having contractions every two minutes. Did you know that?" Um, yes, thank you. I had realized that. She then decided that maybe checking my dilation would be a good idea. Now, every woman who has given birth knows having this checked isn't a day at the beach. But, when the nurse starts checking and her eyes get really wide and she says "oh crap", it causes a little panic. She announced that I was over 7cm and we needed to find a room ASAP. She asked it could walk to which I replied "I walked in here, didn't I?"
So, I waddled down the hall to a birthing room. They got everything hooked up and started getting all of those fun gadgets and tools out (seriously, they need to keep that stuff out of the laboring mom's line of vision). By the time I got into the bed, she announced that I had almost reached 9cm, but my water was still in tact. She wanted me to rate my pain from one to ten and I told her that it was about a 5. Not the worst, but not fun either. She said the dr. would arrive soon and break it and we would be on our way. As if we hadn't been on our way up until that point.
Me in the birthing room. Right before they broke my water.
The dr. arrived and broke my water. And it was then that I deeply regreted not getting an epidural. Up until then, I was doing fine. I wasn't sure what all that fuss about pain was. The nurse told me that I had arrived too late to have an epidural, which I said was fine. After all, it really didn't hurt that bad. Boy, denial can be strong, can't it? The post water breaking pain hit me like a mack truck. I quickly revised my pain scale assessment to 35. I couldn't hold it in and I started to cry. Like the baby that I was going to birth. What had I been thinking? I couldn't do this! How on Earth would I be able to manage? My dr.(probably the nicest man on the planet) rolled around to my bed side on his little stool and said "Hey, its okay. You want to talk about it?" And I laughed. No, I didn't want to talk! He smiled and told me it was time to push.
At this point, the very nice nurse (to whom I took a plate of apology cookies after the fact) asked if I would like to have a mirror to see my baby being born. I think I said something to the effect of "Who the hell would want to do that?" Poor gal. She was the same lady that announced that J's head was out. My ears heard "He's out" and I thought I was all done. She corrected me, but said "Do you want to touch his head?" I said, "Are you crazy? I just want him out. Now!"
After 20 minutes and 8 sets of pushes, Jackson Ryan Bess was born at 11:34p.m. And, amazingly, I forgot everything. The pain, the fear, all of my big weekend plans. All I could think about was that little boy a few feet from me screaming his newborn head off.
Every detail (including some choice moments that I omitted for decency's sake) are forever etched into my brain. And even when I am on the precipice of J's 40th birthday, I am sure I will still be able to recall this story. The story of the best day of my life.
The new love of my life.
We decided before I ever got pregnant with J that we would only be having one child. So, when I got that positive pregnancy test, I was overjoyed and determined to remember every second, every experience and to make the most of whatever came my way. I was blessed with a flawfless pregnancy. I never had morning sickness. I never had swollen feet or ankles. I never felt miserable even though I was my most pregnant in July and August. I gained (to the immense pleasure of my ob/gyn) 33 pounds and on August 22, 2008, I had a perfect 7 pound 6 ounce baby boy.
On the day J was born, I was still 5 days shy of my due date. I wasn't planning to have a baby that day. I had things to do. I had to work, had plans with a friend after work and the next morning I had an appointment to get fitted for a bridesmaids dress for my sister's wedding. There just wasn't time that day to have a baby. I woke up feeling a little more tired than usual, but chalked it up to having over exterted myself at aerobics the night before. I called into work and took the morning off. Then I cleaned my house. Top to bottom (nesting anyone?). After all, I was going to be gone that weekend and needed to get it done some time! Then I watched some Olympics (water polo and rowing, if I recall) to relax before I headed to work.
I was having contractions, but nothing stronger or more painful than the Braxton Hicks contractions I had been having for over a month. And they were all over the place: three minutes apart, then eleven, then two, then nine etc. No gross mucas plug moment or water breaking that I had heard so much about and feared would occur while I was in court testifying or at some other mortifying moment. I finished out the day at work and headed to the park to meet a friend. She had just gotten back from vacation, so her boys played while she showed me vaca pics and we sat in the shade. By then my contractions were stronger, but still not very steady. And they didn't hurt as much as I had always feared they would, so I couldn't be in labor, right?
After the park, I went home, grabbed a shower and layed down, still convinced I was just tired. But, by about 8pm, those contractions were coming every three minutes, lasting a minute each time. We called the dr and he told us to head in. I told my hubby that we had better get going. After all, I was sure I wasn't going to be having a baby and I wanted to get to the hospital and get sent home at a decent hour. I had to be up early the next day.
After a harrowing drive (seriously, my husand was a wreck), we arrived at the hospital at around 9p.m. My exterior calm must have convinced the nurse that I was not an urgent case and we were placed in a triage room. And then forgotten about. We seriously sat in that room for what seemed like an eternity before I had to use the restroom and discovered that something serious was going on. We rang the nurse who came in and hooked me up to a monitor and started asking tons of questions. She kept stopping her questions each time the monitor registered a contraction and said "you are having contractions every two minutes. Did you know that?" Um, yes, thank you. I had realized that. She then decided that maybe checking my dilation would be a good idea. Now, every woman who has given birth knows having this checked isn't a day at the beach. But, when the nurse starts checking and her eyes get really wide and she says "oh crap", it causes a little panic. She announced that I was over 7cm and we needed to find a room ASAP. She asked it could walk to which I replied "I walked in here, didn't I?"
So, I waddled down the hall to a birthing room. They got everything hooked up and started getting all of those fun gadgets and tools out (seriously, they need to keep that stuff out of the laboring mom's line of vision). By the time I got into the bed, she announced that I had almost reached 9cm, but my water was still in tact. She wanted me to rate my pain from one to ten and I told her that it was about a 5. Not the worst, but not fun either. She said the dr. would arrive soon and break it and we would be on our way. As if we hadn't been on our way up until that point.
The dr. arrived and broke my water. And it was then that I deeply regreted not getting an epidural. Up until then, I was doing fine. I wasn't sure what all that fuss about pain was. The nurse told me that I had arrived too late to have an epidural, which I said was fine. After all, it really didn't hurt that bad. Boy, denial can be strong, can't it? The post water breaking pain hit me like a mack truck. I quickly revised my pain scale assessment to 35. I couldn't hold it in and I started to cry. Like the baby that I was going to birth. What had I been thinking? I couldn't do this! How on Earth would I be able to manage? My dr.(probably the nicest man on the planet) rolled around to my bed side on his little stool and said "Hey, its okay. You want to talk about it?" And I laughed. No, I didn't want to talk! He smiled and told me it was time to push.
At this point, the very nice nurse (to whom I took a plate of apology cookies after the fact) asked if I would like to have a mirror to see my baby being born. I think I said something to the effect of "Who the hell would want to do that?" Poor gal. She was the same lady that announced that J's head was out. My ears heard "He's out" and I thought I was all done. She corrected me, but said "Do you want to touch his head?" I said, "Are you crazy? I just want him out. Now!"
After 20 minutes and 8 sets of pushes, Jackson Ryan Bess was born at 11:34p.m. And, amazingly, I forgot everything. The pain, the fear, all of my big weekend plans. All I could think about was that little boy a few feet from me screaming his newborn head off.
Every detail (including some choice moments that I omitted for decency's sake) are forever etched into my brain. And even when I am on the precipice of J's 40th birthday, I am sure I will still be able to recall this story. The story of the best day of my life.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Ryan's 40th
Here is my 40th birthday shout out to my hubby. I decided to list some of the wonderful things about him. I asked J to give me his favorites as well. Here they are, in no particular order:
1. He knows a lot about Star Wars.
2. He has a great sense of humor. It is just as strange as mine sometimes, which works out well.
3. "My daddy is funny." Good to know J and I are on the same page.
4. He is an incredible woodworker. For those of you who don't know, my hubby builds awesome furniture. Seriously, check it out: www.singularwoodworks.com
5. He is really good at keeping secrets. He doesn't repeat anything he is told and hates to perpetuate gossip.
6. He is a very hard worker. At his job and at home. He is rarely idle.
7. "He's nice." Simply put. J likes to waste no words.
8. He isn't afraid to kill big spiders.
9. He has tons of friends, which I think reflects on what a great person he is.
10. He is ridiculously patient.
11. He's a cat person. Compatibility would have been an issue if he had liked dogs. Luckily, he too likes cats.
12. "He takes me to the Kettle for pancakes." Every Saturday, Ryan takes J out for breakfast.
13. He loves to read. Books, magazines, on line articles or forums. He reads a ton.
14. He's a great dad. He adores J, and J adores him.
15. He is a movie nut.
15. He is really great with electronics and if you want to know something about a gizmo or gadget, he's the go to guy. He just helped me tackle an email issue. Very handy guy to have around!
16. He is handsome.
17. "Daddy is tall".
18. He is passionate about music and loves to find new artists to enjoy before they hit it big.
19. He loves cars. He knows a ton about them and can haggle with a car salesman like nobody's business.
20. He is very knowledgeable about many, many things. Probably from all the reading.
21. "He watches Bob the Builder with me." Jackson loves Bob. Ryan can tolerate Bob. I cannot. I usually read a book while J watches Bob.
22. He's a Bears fan. That automatically makes him awesome.
23. He is ultra competitive. Maybe just with me, but he loves to win!
24. He uses good grammar.
25. He has nice teeth. Teeth are a big deal to me. Kind of a deal breaker, if you will. His dental hygiene is impeccable.
26. "I like to play with him"- Obviously from Jackson.
27. He is unflappable. I try to maintain a steady calm most of the time, but some things do get me wound up. Nothing gets Ryan wound up. Ever.
28. He is a big thinker. Ryan doesn't have small ideas. A simple project usually turns into a massive undertaking. He aims high in all that he does.
29. He eats my cooking. Usually with few to no complaints. That nearly qualifies him for sainthood.
So there they are. Just a few of the many great things about the hubster. Happy 40th Ryan!
1. He knows a lot about Star Wars.
2. He has a great sense of humor. It is just as strange as mine sometimes, which works out well.
3. "My daddy is funny." Good to know J and I are on the same page.
4. He is an incredible woodworker. For those of you who don't know, my hubby builds awesome furniture. Seriously, check it out: www.singularwoodworks.com
5. He is really good at keeping secrets. He doesn't repeat anything he is told and hates to perpetuate gossip.
6. He is a very hard worker. At his job and at home. He is rarely idle.
7. "He's nice." Simply put. J likes to waste no words.
8. He isn't afraid to kill big spiders.
9. He has tons of friends, which I think reflects on what a great person he is.
10. He is ridiculously patient.
11. He's a cat person. Compatibility would have been an issue if he had liked dogs. Luckily, he too likes cats.
12. "He takes me to the Kettle for pancakes." Every Saturday, Ryan takes J out for breakfast.
13. He loves to read. Books, magazines, on line articles or forums. He reads a ton.
14. He's a great dad. He adores J, and J adores him.
15. He is a movie nut.
15. He is really great with electronics and if you want to know something about a gizmo or gadget, he's the go to guy. He just helped me tackle an email issue. Very handy guy to have around!
16. He is handsome.
17. "Daddy is tall".
18. He is passionate about music and loves to find new artists to enjoy before they hit it big.
19. He loves cars. He knows a ton about them and can haggle with a car salesman like nobody's business.
20. He is very knowledgeable about many, many things. Probably from all the reading.
21. "He watches Bob the Builder with me." Jackson loves Bob. Ryan can tolerate Bob. I cannot. I usually read a book while J watches Bob.
22. He's a Bears fan. That automatically makes him awesome.
23. He is ultra competitive. Maybe just with me, but he loves to win!
24. He uses good grammar.
25. He has nice teeth. Teeth are a big deal to me. Kind of a deal breaker, if you will. His dental hygiene is impeccable.
26. "I like to play with him"- Obviously from Jackson.
27. He is unflappable. I try to maintain a steady calm most of the time, but some things do get me wound up. Nothing gets Ryan wound up. Ever.
28. He is a big thinker. Ryan doesn't have small ideas. A simple project usually turns into a massive undertaking. He aims high in all that he does.
29. He eats my cooking. Usually with few to no complaints. That nearly qualifies him for sainthood.
So there they are. Just a few of the many great things about the hubster. Happy 40th Ryan!
Friday, July 13, 2012
Grandma Juanita
On July 4th, my Grandma Juanita passed away. As the passing of a loved one often does, this has made me stop and think a lot about her and the memories I have of her. It is hard to select just a few good memories of my grandma. Since my grandma lived just three doors up the street from my for my entire childhood, I saw her nearly every day. She was a fixture in my daily life, so there are few memories of important times in my life that she isn't a part of.
The most prevalent quality I recall about my grandma is that she was a "motherer". She wanted to take care of everyone and make them happy. The main way she showed this was food. My cousins, brother and sister will understand exactly what I mean by this. My grandma loved to feed us. Upon arrival, we were offered a snack. If we declined, we were asked every 15 minutes or so if we were hungry until we ate. She kept on hand what each one of us liked and if there was something she didn't have, you just had to ask and she was sure to have it when you visited next. Also, she always had cases of pop stashed in the closets (usually many of them as she loved a good sale and would stock up) and, since it was grandma's house, you could have as many as you wanted!
And speaking of food, she was also one heck of a cook. I remember many holiday meals where food just covered the kitchen counter tops. There were countless containers of cookies, pies, fluff salads and brownies just to name a few. At Thanksgiving, us kids always got our own little pumpkin pie baked in a pot pie tin. One year during clean up, I recall my sister being amazed by the size of the turkey bones. My grandma told her they were elephant bones and promptly popped them in the oven to dry them so that my sister could take them to school for show and tell. My grandma also used to make delicious Sunday lunches. My typical Sunday afternoon started upon my return from church. I would go to grandma's and watch the Bears play football with my grandpa while grandma cooked lunch for us.
Grandma also made tons of homemade goodies. Homemade noodles, all kinds of canned goods and every year, she, my mom and my aunt would cut and freeze bag after bag of sweet corn. I recall gathering at grandma's and sneaking bites of the sweet corn while they were bagging it. My cousins and I always ate it until we had a stomach ache and were sticky from head to toe with sweet corn. Grandma was also a pretty good seamstress. She could always be counted on to fix a seam or patch a hole in our jeans. She tried to show me how to sew on her sewing machine a few times. I wish now I had paid closer attention!
I also spent many nights sleeping over at her house. On many occasions, I would be woken up at the wee hours of the morning and drug off to have breakfast. I was allowed to stay up late, eat after dinner mint ice cream and watch horror movies. The last time I slept over at my grandma's was the night before my wedding. Grandma's house was a place you could go to eat, play or watch t.v. And her house had air conditioning! Growing up we didn't have it in our home and we spent many hot afternoons soaking up grandma's a.c.
My grandma loved animals and one of our favorite things for many years was her rabbit, E.B. Grandma loved dogs and cats and fed every stray animal that crossed her path. She was a hard worker and always took pride in her flowers. She was often found working in her yard. Even when she was told to ease up on her activity, she was often out tedning to her flowers, cutting weeds or hanging precariously over the bluff at the back of her house to trim tree limbs.
Granmdma was also probably her grandkids' biggest cheerleader. She always came to our school events (and drove my cousins and I to school each day for several years). She attended sports games, concerts, church programs and graduations. You name it, she was there. She was there for my wedding day and one of the first people to meet J when he was born.
There are so many more stories and memories that come to mind when I think of my Grandma. I know how lucky I am to have each and every one of them. Although I am sad to have lost my grandma, I am so thankful to have had her in my life. She was what every grandma should be. Someone who spoils you. Someone who shares your secrets. Someone who lets you get away with murder and dotes on you and loves you no matter what. I know I am who I am today because I had her in my life. Rest in Peace, Grandma.
The most prevalent quality I recall about my grandma is that she was a "motherer". She wanted to take care of everyone and make them happy. The main way she showed this was food. My cousins, brother and sister will understand exactly what I mean by this. My grandma loved to feed us. Upon arrival, we were offered a snack. If we declined, we were asked every 15 minutes or so if we were hungry until we ate. She kept on hand what each one of us liked and if there was something she didn't have, you just had to ask and she was sure to have it when you visited next. Also, she always had cases of pop stashed in the closets (usually many of them as she loved a good sale and would stock up) and, since it was grandma's house, you could have as many as you wanted!
And speaking of food, she was also one heck of a cook. I remember many holiday meals where food just covered the kitchen counter tops. There were countless containers of cookies, pies, fluff salads and brownies just to name a few. At Thanksgiving, us kids always got our own little pumpkin pie baked in a pot pie tin. One year during clean up, I recall my sister being amazed by the size of the turkey bones. My grandma told her they were elephant bones and promptly popped them in the oven to dry them so that my sister could take them to school for show and tell. My grandma also used to make delicious Sunday lunches. My typical Sunday afternoon started upon my return from church. I would go to grandma's and watch the Bears play football with my grandpa while grandma cooked lunch for us.
Grandma also made tons of homemade goodies. Homemade noodles, all kinds of canned goods and every year, she, my mom and my aunt would cut and freeze bag after bag of sweet corn. I recall gathering at grandma's and sneaking bites of the sweet corn while they were bagging it. My cousins and I always ate it until we had a stomach ache and were sticky from head to toe with sweet corn. Grandma was also a pretty good seamstress. She could always be counted on to fix a seam or patch a hole in our jeans. She tried to show me how to sew on her sewing machine a few times. I wish now I had paid closer attention!
I also spent many nights sleeping over at her house. On many occasions, I would be woken up at the wee hours of the morning and drug off to have breakfast. I was allowed to stay up late, eat after dinner mint ice cream and watch horror movies. The last time I slept over at my grandma's was the night before my wedding. Grandma's house was a place you could go to eat, play or watch t.v. And her house had air conditioning! Growing up we didn't have it in our home and we spent many hot afternoons soaking up grandma's a.c.
My grandma loved animals and one of our favorite things for many years was her rabbit, E.B. Grandma loved dogs and cats and fed every stray animal that crossed her path. She was a hard worker and always took pride in her flowers. She was often found working in her yard. Even when she was told to ease up on her activity, she was often out tedning to her flowers, cutting weeds or hanging precariously over the bluff at the back of her house to trim tree limbs.
Granmdma was also probably her grandkids' biggest cheerleader. She always came to our school events (and drove my cousins and I to school each day for several years). She attended sports games, concerts, church programs and graduations. You name it, she was there. She was there for my wedding day and one of the first people to meet J when he was born.
There are so many more stories and memories that come to mind when I think of my Grandma. I know how lucky I am to have each and every one of them. Although I am sad to have lost my grandma, I am so thankful to have had her in my life. She was what every grandma should be. Someone who spoils you. Someone who shares your secrets. Someone who lets you get away with murder and dotes on you and loves you no matter what. I know I am who I am today because I had her in my life. Rest in Peace, Grandma.
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