it’s official

 

 

my.life.is.now.complete.

 

 

 

 

 

My dear mother.

 

Is apparently still upset with me over the whole overstaying my welcome in her womb thing.

 

(I only staged a 24 hour standoff like any self-respecting fetus would).

 

And she also apparently rocks at the whole “public humiliation in the comments section” thing.

 

Somebody give this woman a guest post of her own, STAT.

 

 

Y’all help me badger her.

 

Go check out her “anonymous” comments (trust me, the second one is almost as bad as the first… and that’s saying A LOT.).

 

Mom.  I am not going anywhere with you and dad in July OR August.

 

 

For reals.

 

 

Excuse me while I go bleach my brain.

Catching up is hard to do

 

 

First order of business - which will make the rest of this post seem really unimportant…

 

 

 

Thank you is not enough.

 

~

Update on May-May… the chica is healing well.

I could not agree more with the commenters who talked about how important it is that kids know how to behave around dogs.  May-May did all the right things and this was not a normally dangerous dog.  Make sure the little ones in your family know what to do, and please do the right thing if you are an owner.

 

~

 

And since my dearly beloved 50mm/ f1.4 lens is now officially “in the shop” (or rather in the estimating so we can find out whether it will cost $7 less to repair it than to replace it, or whether I should just go cry into my Cheerios right now department), most of this update will be brought to you courtesy of some super sekrit phone camera ninja skills.

~

Y’all remember the craziness that was Itty Bit’s birth, right?  He was born one day before my birthday, and then Mother’s Day whacked us both upside the head the next day.  (Bonus points if you can remember why the hospital staff was still talking about his birth months later).

 

So every year the middle of May is insanity.

 

We got knocked out with that crazy bug, so the kid missed his own school birthday party.  Pitiful, no?

 

 

(And I am completely not apologizing for him being in a 5-point harness.  Y’all saw the pictures of the wreck he was supposed to be in, right?)

 

~

 

He made up for it with a Mother’s Day/family birthday party.

Oh wait… I had to wake him up at Grandma’s house to blow out his own candles.

Here he was either falling back asleep, or listening to whatever the chocolate was saying to him.

 

 

(if it was the chocolate, he is definitely his mother’s son)

 

~

 

But we could tell he was finally feeling better after he cracked this smile:

 

 

Itty Bit would like you to know that his team name isn’t The Crappers.

 

~

 

And in the meantime, yours truly was kidnapped for her own birthday adventure.

 

Once I realized that the event involved a four-legged critter… and that my husband had helpfully packed my SKINNY jeans… I decided y’all should only be exposed to a photo that showed us at warp speed.

 

 

You’re welcome.

 

~

 

The skinny jeans really didn’t help after we hit up a local bbq joint.  If it makes any difference, my mom and I split this plate.  (Correction:  we split about 1/3 of this plate, then rolled ourselves away).

 

And yes, the corn above is the same corn referenced below.

 

 

No I didn’t want to rub it anywhere.  That chocolate cake however…

 

~

 

My captor and I giggled off the calories at a local shop.

 

 

 

~

 

A few days later, we regrouped for a “friend” birthday party at the famed bounce house where ahem “someone” tested the liability policy last year.

 

 

 

~

 

Afterward, there was the little matter of:

“Toys That Grandma Buys Always Land On the Roof”.

 

~

 

Then as you already heard… my body decided to wait until Mr. Daddy was working out of town – to catch Itty Bit’s bug.

 

Body, you suck.

 

 

But it meant that my mom could play superhero and she literally showed up in her pajamas and spent the night painting our bathroom.

What?  Your mom doesn’t randomly finish DIY projects while taking care of you?

 

The paint ended up in some interesting places – including all over Itty Bit’s outfit, all over Grandma’s dog, and umm… seriously? HOW?!?!

 

 

~

 

Mr. Daddy returned home just in time to enjoy that awful bug himself.  Somehow when guys finally cave into it, the world stops, right?

(I love you honey.  Aren’t you glad I’m not grumpy when I’m sick? :)

 

~

 

So I made us some comfort food.

 

No, not creamed corn.

 

And would you believe I actually followed instructions because I was tired of butchering the brownies every time I tried to get them out of the pan?  Except, God thinks it’s hilarious when I try to follow instructions.

 

For ease of serving, use a plastic knife and cut with sawing motion.

 

So I did EXACTLY that.

And couldn’t figure out why my poor brownies still looked like someone had taken a chainsaw to them.

 

 

Well, it didn’t say I had to WAIT for them to cool down before digging in.

 

 

 

 

~

 

And suddenly, that holy cow where has time gone event was upon us.  Itty Bit’s (sob) Kindergarten Graduation.

 

If I could tell you how much I love Itty Bit’s friends – you’d understand why I want to hug the stuffing out of this one.  He convinced Itty Bit that wearing glasses is cool.  AWESOMESAUCE, this kid.

 

 

I must refrain from speaking about the actual graduation – otherwise you’d get retaliation pictures of all the people who broke rules and got into the building early to reserve 14 seats each so that the actual parents had to stand in the back and get craptastic shots like this:

 

 

Yes, my baby, the “N” had a solo and my poor lens couldn’t keep up from 2,391 feet away, thanks to all you seat hoarders.

The staff and teachers ROCK.  Seat hoarders do not.

Not that I’m bitter or anything.

~

 

To get us back to happy - here’s a shot of Itty Bit’s Mother’s Day project.

 

Yeah, I totally bawled.

 

 

See his answer?

“If Mom could have one wish come true, she would wish for a baby”.

 

How that kid knows me.

 

(Though to be fair, HE talks about wanting a baby brother or sister far more often than I mention it aloud).

 

I’m still trying to piece it together, but the drawing is a pregnant me, with a baby on the conveyor belt at the grocery store.

 

I’m a little concerned about his understanding of babies… especially since Mr. Daddy told him how they are born.

 

ACK.

 

~

 

 

And in closing, I’ll leave you with my new favorite:

 

 

 

What about you?  Is May as crazy for you too?

the right thing

 

 

So I’ll probably catch some flak for this from family – but I’m writing this because the story is so personal to me.

 

 

 

See sweet May-May at Itty Bit’s belated birthday party?  (Yeah, at the same bounce house that led to a certain ADULT getting injured in a freak accident last year…. we’re either brave or stoopid).

 

See the bandage and splint on my little niece’s thumb?

 

The promise of coming to Itty Bit’s party was the only thing keeping her mind off her injury.  So my sister packed up the girls and brought them, in spite of the poor girl’s owie.

 

~

 

My heart broke as I heard the story.  My mind rewound 20-something years to a hospital waiting room.

To my dad walking in with my little sister laying against his right shoulder.

Her eyes half-closed with a bandage covering the right side of her face.

She was still in her bathing suit.  Her favorite one.

 

She cried when they cut it off.

 

~

 

Ignore the kid on the left who apparently butchered her bangs.  See that little fuzzhead on the right?  A dog bit her in the face.

 

I had never seen my mom panic before that day.  Until we got the phone call and raced to meet them at the hospital.

 

The bite was literally a fraction of an inch within taking her sight.

 

It was a dog we trusted.  That belonged to someone we trusted.

 

~

 

Fast-forward to last weekend.

 

The dog owners? They did the right thing.

 

The dog was pulled away instantly and secured.  May-May was treated immediately.  They did everything they could to make her comfortable while blood streamed down both her arms.

 

They apologized.

They paid the medical copay.

They apologized some more.

They bought her clothes to replace the bloodstained dress.

They apologized again.

They offered to pay for every expense.

 

And they told my sister,

 

“If you need to report this, do it”.

 

That simple statement tells me they care.  It takes the blame off the little girl.  It means that everyone is concerned about the right things.

My point wasn’t about whether a dog needs to be put down.  My point was about doing the right thing as an owner.  About taking that weight of conflict off of a parent with a hurt child.  About immediately responding compassionately.

 

Do it.

 

If (Heaven forbid) ever it happens to you… do it.

 

 

Grateful.  That a bad situation wasn’t made worse.

Grateful for the smile on her face last weekend.

Grateful that she’ll be okay.

 

Even though HOLY COW, have you seen how much trouble these two get into?

 

 

 

Wordless Wednesday–Moms and Daughters

 

After an insanely hard and stressful couple of weeks, my body decided to mutiny.

“Not sleeping, eh?  I’ll show YOU!”

 

 

When the dust settled, the doc had cancelled the meds for bronchitis and prescribed kick-butt ones for pneumonia.

(Add in a double ear infection for fun.  Oh!  And some stress nausea - because every bedside table needs a fashionable “just in case” accent bowl).

 

 

To add insult to injury, the husband was working out-of-town. 

 

Mommio to the rescue.

 

She force-fed me Tom Yum Gai and yellow curry (spice level #4 = holy cow, I can breathe again!)

 

She told Itty Bit terribly embarrassing childhood stories about his momma at bedtime.

 

And she painted my bathroom.

 

 

Not.even.kidding.

 

The woman painted my bathroom, y’all.

 

(To say that she’s pretty high up on Mr. Daddy’s favorite person in the whole wide world list right now would be an understatement).

 

 

But just having here here, in my home, while I sneezed and sniffled and coughed and generally looked grody… was the real gift.

 

After downloading Mother’s Day photos tonight, I spotted one that makes me utterly unable to stop smiling.

 

So true to form - my mother and sister cracking up over a funny card.  It’s kind of our thing.  Makes me grateful for the little stuff that binds us.

 

 

 

Who Does That?!? Red Robin episode

 

 

Does this kind of stuff only happen to us?

 

Or am I the only one shameless enough to use my                           super sekrit photo ninja skills?

 

 

 

 

 

 

An abundance of reaction – this kid speaks volumes with his expressions.

 

Any guesses?

 

 

 

 

 

All over a woman calmly eating her dinner with a marvelous ginormous balloon hat on.

 

 

 

 

 

And as she walked past, well this kid could hardly stand it.

 

 

 

 

 

Why no, he doesn’t make a scene… whatever do you mean?

And my phone has recovered nicely from the lemonade snorted on it, thanks for asking.

May Mushy

 

 

An hour into his school day on Monday, I got four text messages saying I needed to pick Itty Bit up.

He was running a fever and fast asleep in the library.

 

We battled that sucker back and forth between 100 – 103 degrees and it gypped him out of a his own class birthday party on Friday.

 

 

 

I’m pretty darn sad that his yearly “last day of being this many” photo is him trying to smile while falling into a sniffly sleep and holding up a “FIVE”.

 

I’m so glad you’re here kiddo… the docs told me I’d never get a Mother’s Day, but I’m glad God laughed at them.

 

~

 

I was a Mother’s Day baby too.  A two weeks overdue present… (yeah, sorry about that getting stuck pitocin hurts emergency caesarean not breathing thing.  Glad it all worked out)

 

I am so blessed to have had two amazing moms in my life.  This is our first Mother’s Day without Mr. Daddy’s mom.  Say a prayer for him today, would you?

 

{Dana Suggs}

 

 

Thank you Mom, for teaching those rednecks of yours how to love others.

 

 

~

 

In honor of today, I’d love to repost this… for all of us who have moms who have sacrificed for us.

 

~

 

When they placed me in her arms, it was us against the world.

 

I don’t think she could have imagined how far we’d travel or just how much harder and better things would get.

 

 

 

Protector.

Nurturer.

 

Who battled through my silence to give me words again.

She was Mommio.

 

~

 

Then along came Walla-Bip-Boo.

(shockingly, that is only part of her actual nickname)

 

When I was old enough (and brave enough) to whine, her fingers would tap my lips until an honest-to-goodness Indian war whoop escaped.

 

While Mommio filled the grocery cart with organic peanut butter and soy milk; Mommio’s fun twin got a running start and rode the grocery cart all the way to the car.

 

And while Mommio taught Sunday School, Walla-Bip-Boo fastened the giggling kids to the wall with duct tape.

 

Mommio sang in the church worship team… Walla-Bip-Boo rocked the toddler drum set after the service.

 

 

 

While Mommio is grossed out over a certain daughter’s public burping skills (ahem), Walla-Bip-Boo has no problem embracing the humor.

.

 

 

Walla-Bip-Boo does nothing halfway.

 

While Mommio entertains one kid with puppets…

 

Walla-Bip-Boo wins the Grand Marshal prize by entertaining thousands more.  There may or may not have been several Super Soakers involved…

 

(We look like sisters?  You don’t say!)

 

And though Mommio was more than willing to pull Grandma duty at the pumpkin patch…

 

 

It was Walla-Bip-Boo who stole the spotlight with her Julie Andrews impersonation.

 

 

(You have got to love the random confused kid behind her)

 

To be honest, I love both of my mothers.

 

Because both Mommio and Walla-Bip-Boo love Jesus.

 

Here’s her comment on my last post:

 

Anonymous said...

OK...so this one may be my favorite of all time posts - the only reason I say "may be" is that it is still in competition with your "Gramma-over-there" post about her wonderfully lived life & how deeply she is & will be missed.
So, as your Mommio, who has NEVER viewed you as handicapped - I want to say that I luv u and I am so very proud of you at this moment... PS me & Itty-bit ran into that little girl in the wheelchair (who by the way is now a grown woman) when I took him to see the movie "Hop" and introduced him as your son - she still remembers you... wonder if she noticed that he looks enough like you to be your clone? :)

 

 

I don’t know that you could understand unless you’ve walked it… what a huge thing it is to watch someone sacrifice for you – for decades.  Going more than the extra mile – and doing it cheerfully.  Knowing that the limitations of your life have transformed theirs as well – yet not sensing any kind of bitterness.  Realizing that they’ve taken your hardships on themselves – and at the end of the day, can tell you, “I have NEVER viewed you as handicapped”.  It’s motherhood times 1000.  It’s Jesus.

It made me cry.

 

So if someday someone doesn’t say,

 

“You look just like your mother”,

and instead says,

“You are just like your mother”.

 

I’ll know God has made some headway in me.

 

~

 

Thank you Mommio Walla-Bip-Boo.  I love you a bushel and a peck.

 

 

But I’ll still burp.

Excuse me.

 

 

~

And Happiest Birthday to my little big miracle.  We love you Itty Bit!

One Thousand.

 

 

Such ridiculously good timing.

 

 

You have no idea how giddy I am as I type this.  Pretty much screamingly happy.

 

As Itty Bit would say, “OH BABIES!”

 

One thousand posts into this blogging journey and TODAY Blogher is featuring me as a bonafide (totally doesn’t feel real) published author.  Like a real article and everything, y’all!

 

 

 

And the article?  Was the one I was afraid to even publish.  I tiptoed out from the wings and waited for the stinky fruit to be thrown.

 

Here is my safe place… you guys know my faults and see the spinach between my teeth.  Out there is scary.  I’m grateful for your support.

 

 

Won’t you come drop by and lend your two cents?  (Please click below to keep me from being the last kid picked for dodgeball :)