Sunday, August 26, 2012

I'm a quarter!

People, I turned 25 last week.  I say it with drama, but really it didn't feel like such a big deal to me.  When I turned 24 all I could think about was how in one more year I'd be 25 and blah blah blah, I know we all know how we feel when our birthdays take us by surprise.

I think something about having James around distracts me from dwelling on me getting older, because I'm so much more concerned with how fast he is growing.

I had a quiet little birthday.  My mom took me and the kiddos out to lunch, to a cute little cafe where I had a sandwich that included melted brie.  So good.  And then, being the sweet mommy she is who knows exactly what I like, she made me a pear-almond upside-down cake and brought dinner for me and Tony.

James had hungry eyes for the cake, and now I'm excited for his first birthday.

Tony's gift to me was a couple of Disney movies to expand our collection (The Lion King, and Lady & the Tramp) which was perfect really, because these days I'm all about hoarding the happiness for my family, and what is happier than Disney movies when you're a kid?  Can't wait to share with James some of my favorites.  (Star Wars is on Christmas, fyi.)

I birthday'd to myself this shirt from Threadless, and a haircut which I haven't photographed yet.

I know, it's mirrored, I'm sorry.

August is the month of birthdays in my family.  My dad, my mom, my sister, 4 or 5 of my nieces/nephews, and myself.  It was also in August that I learned I was pregnant, one year ago.  I love August.

So, the wonderful thing about blogging - and, more pointedly, the wonderful thing about people who dedicatedly blog - is that there are all these stories you get to experience vicariously through other people.  For those of you who are more social in the real world than I am, this is maybe old news.  But to me it's still exciting.  One of the bloggers who's blog I love living through is Ashley Ann.  I've linked to her before and I will likely link to her a hundred times, because she is so inspiring and positive and down to earth - like someone you could really be friends with.  Her current adventure is particularly exciting: she's in China, getting ready to bring home her adopted daughter.  EXCITING.  I highly suggest visiting her blog, Under the Sycamore, if you want to experience the adventure with her.

Happy Sunday!

Saturday, August 25, 2012

A little about James + a little about why I've been sad lately

My sweet little boy, finally asleep after about two hours of fighting.  I think he's entering a new stage, and the world is becoming more and more interesting to him.  He doesn't want to miss anything.  He's started reaching for things beyond just his face-zone, he watches me from across rooms.

He isn't very shy yet.  Everyone gets a smile.  He especially loves to smile at himself in the mirror. (I haven't been able to get a good picture of that - my phone's camera isn't very high quality.  Plus it was bought used and is a little beat up, there are dust specks in the lens that I can't get to, so all my pictures have those dark spots.  Anyway.)
Another thing about the littlest Wade, is he is LOUD with a capital LOUD.  Sometimes it sounds like a tropical bird got stuck in the house.  Tony and I are both pretty quiet and reserved, so it tickles me that our son likes to screech and squeal just for the delight of doing so.  He lays on his blanky and just listens to his own voice.  I love it.

Life has been marginally crazy for me lately; at least, I don't have as much downtime as I used to, when I'm at home.  Work is a different story.  I have TONS of downtime at work, but all the things I want to do with that time are at home, or have to do with home.  I have a few projects I've been able to take with me, but still once I get home I'm busy with laundry or dishes or baths or practicing the piano for my new church calling, or just taking care of the boy and spending time with the Dad.  Sometimes I get frustrated, but there have been things lately that really make my challenges seem small.  One involves a friend whose wife just had their first baby; I won't go into detail because I haven't talked to them about doing so first, but their sweet little girl was born with some complications and they're not sure how long she'll be with them.  They don't live close to me - I've been keeping up through Facebook and their blog - but I feel very close to them and their story.  Not quite like it's happening to me, but it's really struck home.  So the past few weeks my heart has been aching terribly for families of children with special needs.

So I've been made extremely grateful for my own little family.  I sometimes feel guilty, that I (so far) haven't been asked to deal with some of the challenges that others face.  I don't take my healthy boy or my family or our situation for granted.  Each day is a blessing.  I'm grateful for every struggle to get him to take a nap.  I'm grateful to hear his cries because I know he's just tired, not recovering from surgery or enduring hospital stays.  I'm grateful to not have his projected life expectancy something I have to consider daily.  And I've been praying with all my heart for those who do.

I wish I could better convey how my heart aches.  Pictures of my friend's baby girl remind me a little of James, and I think of him when he was tinier and newborn, and pure and innocent like all newborns, and healthy, and I'm just not sure I could've endured the agony if he wasn't. As I read these blogs and stories of the mothers of these babies, I'm in awe of their strength and optimism, and especially their faith.  And it really brings me down into myself, because I know I am not as strong as they are.

As James was being born we had a little scare where his heart rate kept dropping.  Everything was fine as I started pushing, but after a few pushes things changed.  I didn't even realize anything was wrong, but suddenly the room was full of people and they kept rolling me around, changing my position for each push to see if that would make things easier for James.  I remember feeling panic creep up my throat but I forced myself to stay calm so I could do my best at getting him out.  Eventually they had to call in an OB who used foreceps to get him out, and then everything was fine again.  And that's the extent of my "nightmare".  It was scary for me at the time, but in hindsight and in reality it was nothing.  So small compared to some of the things others are asked to deal with in this life.

I could probably beat this topic into the ground.  I just needed to write about it for a little bit, to get some of the thoughts and feelings out of me because I'm starting to feel very heavy with them.  Of course, I don't know what the future holds, and maybe someday I will be handed a challenge I feel is too big for me.  When that happens I hope I'll rise to it, and for now I'm grateful for my blessings.

And here's a silly picture of James to lighten the mood a little:

Friday, August 3, 2012

$$ + tell me if I should buy this

Okay people, now I need your help. I've got some extra babysitting cash burning a hole in my pocket and then, as it do, this coat came swinging along on Zulily. And I think I like it - I mean, just check out that tiered hemline:

So yay or nay?  Also, it's on crazy good sale, if that makes a difference.

While we're on the subject of fashion, can I just get an amen for clothes costing too much dang money?  I mean, I do understand that you just can't get everything for free and you get what you pay for and blah blah blah but seriously, $68 for a sweater? (On sale, no less.)  I'd find more examples but I know you know what I'm talking about.  What makes that sweater worth that many monies?  Surely it didn't cost near that much to make?  Why do clothes-sellers need that much profit?  And even more importantly, ladies, why are we okay with paying it??  Now before I get ahead of myself I'm going to go ahead and slap my high horse on the rear to give it a giddyup because two weeks ago I paid $50 for a pair of skinny jeans I know it did not cost $50 to make, so I'm no exception to the crazy.  But it's juuuust soooo ridiculoooouuuus.  I work hard for my money; I hate that in order for me to feel like I'm dressed pretty it has to disappear so fast.  And trust me, I know that $50 is not a lot for jeans.  I mean, I watch What Not To Wear.  I know what prices are acceptable in the fashion world.  Also I'm a lot positive that Clinton and Staci would roll their eyes at this whole paragraph.

(Of course, Clinton and Staci can feel free to buy me a whole new wardrobe at any time.  I volunteer.)

This post is now too silly, and must end.