I Will Never Forget

Posted by Kim on Saturday Feb 27, 2010 Under Uncategorized

It’s been a year dad, but I will never forget.  I will never forget the phone call asking me to drive up for a baby shower.  Everyone was coming here to surprise me, but you were sick, recovering at The Summit and couldn’t make the trip.  I will never forget leaving that Friday, no idea you’d be leaving Saturday.  I pulled into the parking lot and walked down the hall to your room.  I knew I felt anxious, but I didn’t know why.  I walked in and saw you sitting in your wheelchair.  Head down, fast asleep.  I didn’t want to wake you, but mom said to because you had slept all day.  I will never forget how you looked up at me when she shook you awake.  You kinda smiled, a sweet smile, as best you could.  I said “Hey Dad” but you didn’t say anything.  Too weak for words, but that’s ok.  I leaned down to hug you.  I will never forget how you put your arms around me and squeezed tight.  For a man so weak, you felt strong.  It felt like you hugged me for hours.  My cheek pressed to yours.  My eyes watered.  I knew it was different.  I will never forget how everyone in the room was crying when I stood up.  They told me you hadn’t been able to lift your arm all day.  I talked to you, laughed with you and you winked at me. You always winked at me. I will never forget how you looked at the ultrasound picture of Tru…your grandson.  You stared.  I pointed to my belly and told you that was my baby and you smiled.  I will never forget how you looked at me that night when I told you bye.  Were you trying to tell me something?  Did you know you were dying?  I told you I’d see you in the morning and you stared at me.  You made a sound.  I leaned in and asked what you wanted, if you were alright.  You stared.  I called mom back into the room and told her you were saying something, but you just stared.  I kissed you one more time.  I will never forget the phone call the next morning telling us you weren’t waking up.  I was trying to decide which top to wear for the baby shower and suddenly it didn’t matter.  We rushed out the door.  The drive felt so long and the walk down the hall seemed like miles.  I will never forget seeing you laying in the bed.  Still and pale.  The only sound was your breathing.  I stood by your bed all day watching you and rubbing your head.  You loved to have your head rubbed.  I will never forget how badly I wanted you to open your eyes, but you didn’t.  You just breathed.  I will never forget that night as we all stood in your room and your breathing slowed and became farther and farther apart.  I will never forget how your skin felt cold and started to turn a soft shade of blue.  I felt my insides shaking.  My body trembling.  My palms were sweating and I couldn’t swallow.  I will never forget how I worried about Tru.  Could he feel my heart racing?  Were my muscles tightening in on him?  Squeezing him?  I couldn’t bare another second.  I will never forget how I walked to your bed and whispered in your ear what a wonderful dad you were and how much I loved you.  How much I would always love you.  I thanked you for everything you’d done for me and I stepped out the door.  I think you understood.  You were always a private person like me.  I will never forget seconds later when I heard everyone in the room cry out.  I cried too.  I will never forget.

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Happy 10 Months!

Posted by Kim on Friday Feb 26, 2010 Under Uncategorized

I like the number 10.   I wish things were in increments of 10, so I’m celebrating your 10 month birthday.  It has been an unbelievable 10 months.  You have grown and changed so fast.  I remember the night I felt you making your way out of me.  It was 2 a.m. and your dad had just crawled into bed after cleaning his warehouse with your Aunt Donna.  I told him I thought you were coming.  I laid in bed and counted the minutes between contractions.  I was so hoping I was right.  I was so ready to meet you.  I loved being pregnant with you…feeling you grow, feeling you move, just having you in my belly.  I would read books to you, talk to you, play music for you, rub my belly and hope you’d feel my touch.  Get to know my touch.  As much as I loved knowing that I was growing something and giving life to something, I was ready to hold you in my arms.  So, when another contraction came, I quick nudged your dad and said I was sure you were coming.  We were very calm and quiet.  I remember riding in the car thinking the next time I rode in the car, I’d be going home with you.  The next hours seemed to happen in slow-motion.  I think I slept.  I can’t remember, but at 7 a.m. you must have laid on a nerve.  I bolted out of bed and for the next 2 hours I couldn’t relax a muscle, couldn’t catch my breath, couldn’t be still, but because of monitors I had to stay in the bed.  I couldn’t find relief.  I cried.  I squirmed.  I begged for an epidural.  The guy came in at 9 a.m. with it.  I was screaming and all but climbing the walls.  Within seconds my entire body went limp.  I was able to lay back and be peaceful for you.  The next thing I know I’m being told to push.  I push and push and push and finally (3 hours later) you’re in front of me.  Right before my eyes.  I can’t focus.  Everything is blurry, but I know it’s you.  Beautiful you.  I watch as they clean you.  I want you in my arms.  I’m patient.  Remembering to breathe.  Long deep breaths.  Finally, I’m holding you.  It was like I already knew you.  Warm.  Soft.  Tiny.  Beautiful.  I can’t believe I made you.  I’m in awe of you.  I rub my fingers across your cheeks.  Up and down your perfect little nose.  I shield the light from your eyes because it’s making you mad.  I feel my heart grow.  I feel my chest swell.  I feel like I’m going to burst.  I don’t let go of you.  I hold you and look at you all night long.  You’ve been inside me for 9 months; I’m not ready for you to be anywhere that’s not attached to me.  So we lay together.  For at least 2 weeks I don’t sleep.  Too scared to close my eyes.  Now you’re out in the world and not protected by the womb.  I want to protect you.  Every day I talk to you and sing to you and you cast a spell over me.  I look at you and cry and laugh at the same time because I’m happier than I’ve ever dreamed possible.  I whisper to you and you look at me like you are studying me.  I’m a thinker too.  Soon, we’ll look and study things together.  Figure things out.  I wonder what you are thinking.  What secrets do you have?  Our days are spent with me being amazed by everything you do.  I love the little sounds you make when you sleep.  I love your little grin.  I love the tickle of your soft hair as I rub my cheeks across your head.  I love the velvety feel of the bottoms of your feet and how you try to curl your toes around my finger.

My favorite time is holding you next to me as you drift off to sleep.  I do it every night.  I should put you in your crib, but I don’t want to.  You’ll be big soon and I won’t be able to hold you.  I love this time together.  Your head on my shoulder.  Your eyes close shut.  I feel you breathe soft and slow.  We are peaceful and you slip into a dream.  I wish I could go with you.  I hold you a little longer just because I want to remember this moment.  I feel sad as I walk away from your crib.  When you wake in the middle of the night for a bottle, I know I get a few more minutes with you before I have to go to work.  It’s you and me while the rest of the world sleeps.  You are my world.  Your crib is still by my bed.  I like it there.  I guess I just still want you as close to me as possible.  I love being able to open my eyes and you are right there.  I peek over and look at you while you sleep and I smile.  I want to touch you, but you are so peaceful.  My dreaming boy.  One day you’ll want your own room and you’ll close your door.  You won’t want mom peeking in on you.

You are my thoughts and my dreams.  At work, I have pictures of you all over the room because I want to be able to see you no matter where I am.  I talk about you to everyone who will listen.  I rush home to get you.  You are my heartbeat.  You are my smile.  When I was sick I sat down and started to cry because I was tired of coughing and sneezing and blowing my nose.  You rolled up in your walker and looked at me very serious, as if concerned.  I immediately started laughing and so did you.  Your happiness means so much more than mine does.  My life means more now because of you.  It’s been 10 months, but I feel like I’ve had you forever.  I can’t remember a time without you.  You are my memories and you are my future.

I love you.


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First: Word

Posted by Kim on Wednesday Feb 24, 2010 Under First

[jwplayer config=”video” file=”/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/P2230711.flv” image=”/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/P2230711.jpg”]

Dada.  Your first word.  I’ve been on the edge of my seat listening, waiting to hear your voice speak a word and then…there it was.  Like music.  Like a symphony orchestra well rehearsed for opening night.   It’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.  I could listen to you forever.  I will listen to you forever.  No matter what, I am a captive audience for you, Dear Tru.  Tell me your secrets, your dreams, your wishes, your hopes, your desires.  All of it, I want to hear.

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Super Mom

Posted by Kim on Sunday Feb 21, 2010 Under Uncategorized

This is so weird, but for some reason when you become a mom, you get super powers.  I’m serious.  You can do things you never could before.  It happens and then you think, Oh my gosh…I can’t believe myself.  Let me give you an example.

I’m terrified of spiders.  Completely terrified.  I can hardly look at a book with photographs of spiders in it.  I had one, a teeny-tiny one, in my classroom one day and ran across the hall to have another teacher come over and kill it.  I call my husband from whatever he is doing to kill a spider and if he can’t come, I throw a bowl over it until he can get there.  I can’t kill a spider.  Are you crazy?  It might attack me or something.  It might jump on me and never let go.

Well, tonight as I walked to the bedroom to feed Tru…I saw one right along the doorway.  This thing was huge and I’m not exaggerating.  It looked like an art installation hanging on the wall.  I froze.  I looked around.  I uttered some strange noises that made Tru look at me funny.  I started some weird little two-step in the hallway trying to figure out what to do.  I ran to my phone and texted Grant.  Ran back to make sure the spider was still there.  Ran back to the phone and saw no response.  Called Grant and explained the emergency, which he didn’t get at all.  So there I was – alone, holding Tru in one arm, a bottle in the other and a big ass spider in my hallway.  My mind raced.  I walked back down the hall and it was moving.  MOVING!!  That’s it.  I knew what I must do.  I grabbed the biggest shoe Grant has, plopped Tru in his crib, flung my cape over my shoulder and off I went.  My palms were sweating, but my mind was steady.  Steady on my target.  Something came over me.  I felt a strength building inside I’ve never felt before.  I had to kill this spider because all I could envision was it crawling on Tru while he slept and that won’t happen.  I bit down on my lip, pulled back, and splat.  Then I went back to my baby waiting in his crib and all is peaceful once again.  (WARNING: photo of spider below)

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Where do I begin.  I have always loved clothes.  Not that I’m a great dresser or a stylist by any means, but I love clothes.  I guess you could say I collect them in a way.  In high school I loved planning my outfits.  I’d study the pages of my monthly subscription to Young Miss for inspiration and try to replicate looks with what I had in my closet.  I’d even take pictures of my ensembles, thinking I had done a good job.  I was proud, even if I did look ridiculous.  Well, many years later and many other and new forms of inspiration and I’m still having at it.  (without the camera…until now, thanks to modern technology.)  The problem is it’s really true what they say – you have a baby and you let yourself go.  Not intentionally.  You’re just so consumed with this new little life that you brought home that you kinda forget about you or at least you don’t care as much.  Outfits just don’t seem as important.  Perspective hits you hard and knocks you right on your butt.

It was subtle at first.  I came home from the hospital feeling like I’d been run over by a steamroller, except I was not flat.  My days were spent in a flurry of bottles and diapers and sitz baths and pads and so much extra fluid in my body that I couldn’t even wear my flip flops.  Not to mention I was hooking up to a pump every chance I could, so undressing was an hourly thing.  I found it easier to just wear my hospital gowns all day.  (I found really cool ones at –  http://www.dearjohnnies.com/shop/ )  When I did start feeling like I could handle a waistband, I opted for clothes that were comfortable for several reasons, but mainly because I got puked on at least once a day.

Then it happened…I went back to work.  I’d search my closet for something comfortable and easy to slip off when I had to pump.  When I wasn’t pumping anymore, I just searched my closet for something comfortable.  I did my best to wear my Nikes as much as possible.  Or my Uggs.  Whichever.  The point is, it was almost a year later and I was…frumpy!  I stood in my closet for 30 minutes last night looking and looking at everything and what did I wear today?  Black pants, pink long sleeve, and…can you guess?…my Nikes.  I’ll give myself the benefit of the doubt.  I’ve been sick all weekend and going to work today was tough.  But, the other months – no excuse!

I’ve been turned onto blogging by my dear little fashionista niece, Danielle.  (aka  http://dinosaurtoes.blogspot.com/ ) I’ve decided it’s time to make a little time for me.  It’s okay I think.  In the wild, adult wolves eat before the babies.  That way they stay strong to take care of the young.  Food and fashion don’t exactly compare, but you get the idea.  Taking time to care.  I never understood the whole marketing items to “moms-on-the-go”.  I get it now.  I do everything in a hurry.  I let some things go.  I do others half way.  It’s a challenge to take care of myself when my number one priority is Tru.  He needs me.  He depends on me.  He’s my responsibility.  He’s my duty.  He’s my life.

But…I’m going to try.  Here’s a few recent finds that I will wear and not just hang in the closet!  I’m addicted to tees, so I am drawn to them when I go into a store.  These didn’t photograph too well, but the fabric is awesome.  I found them at J.Crew.  Very silk-like.  Drapes over the body.  My next issue will be bottoms.  I never have luck with bottoms.  I have a million tops and no bottoms.

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First: Snow!

Posted by Kim on Saturday Feb 13, 2010 Under First, Photoetry

What’s this new you feel?

Falling, falling

Cold and wet upon your head.

It floats by quietly and you giggle.

Falling, falling

White fun on a dark night.

Your first winter. Your first snow.

Falling, falling

Just for you

My precious Tru.

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A Few of My Favorite Things…Bob Marley

Posted by Kim on Thursday Feb 11, 2010 Under A Few of My Favorite Things...

This CD works like charm.

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Tru Style: Hanging Solar System

Posted by Kim on Monday Feb 8, 2010 Under Tru Style

On the list for Tru’s room. What little boy wouldn’t love looking at this? It glows in the dark…duh!

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Popsicle Paradise

Posted by Kim on Sunday Feb 7, 2010 Under Uncategorized

On our quest for the perfect popsicle we may have just hit the jackpot!  My mother-in-law thought about trying a small ice tray. Voila!  We now have bite-size pieces, perfect for tiny hands.  Tru can manage the little cubes more easily and it doesn’t melt before he can get it in his mouth.  Our latest creation – banana/blueberry/pear.

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Good morning!

Posted by Kim on Saturday Feb 6, 2010 Under Uncategorized

Waking up and being able to stay home with Tru is such a great feeling.  We play and roam around the house in our pjs.  No where to be.  No schedule to worry about.  This is our time.  Time to be free.  Time to explore.  Time to have fun and Tru leads the way.  I don’t care when I shower or even brush my teeth!  (I do that whenever Tru naps.)  If we venture out, I pull on my Uggs, which Grant says is short for “ugly”, appropriate for this situation, and off we go.  No rules.  No fuss.  Just kicking it with my boy!

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