Don't Take Away My Supermom Badge

I've been such a slacker about blogging, but I've worked the past eight out of nine days and I'm exhausted. I don't get home until about one thirty in the morning, I'm sleeping by two, and Mason wakes up at six fifteen. You do the math. Instead of blogging during nap time, I'm napping too. Until this week, I hadn't taken a nap since Mason was two months old. Now, the apartment is a wreck, breakfast remnants are still on the counter, and all I want to do is sleep.

Mase turned fifteen months old last week. He hasn't been to the doctor's in awhile, but according to my Mama Measurements he's thirty-one inches tall and about twenty-five and a half pounds.

Just because I haven't been updating doesn't mean we've been sitting around being bored all summer. We've still been keeping as busy as always, it's just that my eyes glaze over when I even think about looking at the computer screen - or anything else besides the inside of my eyelids.

Tomorrow morning, after Mase wakes up, I'm going to Atlantic City. I'll be home Wednesday night, but Mase will already be in bed... so I won't see my baby for a full forty-eight hours. It'll be the longest time I've ever been away from him by far. Honestly, I don't know how I'm going to survive. The guilt might kill me unless I hit the jackpot and come back rich.

Mason's Anatomy

You can't really tell in the video, but when I ask him where his nose is he actually sticks his finger up his nose. The kid's turning into a little genius. He's probably trying to feel his enormous brain.

The Things I Teach Him

It has always cracked Mase up when I smell his feet, wrinkle my nose up, and tell him they stink. And now...

He smells his own feet. Priceless.

More Changes

I worked Monday, lost my job Wednesday, had an interview this morning, and start my new job on Saturday. I'm happy to be starting new, but wow.. talk about changes. My entire life has been turned upside-down in the past few weeks.

In other news, Mase said baby ("bay-beeee") yesterday. Cutest word ever. He also says dog and duck (which sound almost exactly the same) and ball and book (...which also sound exactly the same). Last night he stood on the balcony, lifted up his shirt, and pointed to his belly button for the Papa Johns delivery guy (yep, I ordered pizza and wings for just the two of us), who thought it was the funniest thing in the world. He's such a little kid with a big, happy, spontaneous personality.

I've always been scared of change, but I'm looking forward to everything that's been happening. I remember looking at a four-month-old Mason and thinking "god, I wish time would stop right NOW because he's perfect and I don't want anything about him to change". But he did change, and at five months (and six, and ten, and twelve) I thought the exact same thing. And now, of course. Sometimes I still wish I could freeze time, keeping my baby at fourteen and a half months old forever. But then I'd never get to see the amazing things he'll be able to do when he hits fifteen months.

I'm using that knowledge to help me be excited about the changes that are going on in my life - even though they are pretty scary sometimes. 'Cause sure, right now I'm just trading in the tie and the pasta and the cheese grater for sneakers and shorts and cheeseburgers, but who knows where I'll be in a year. I guess we'll see.

The Hardest Blog I've Ever Had to Write

Dear Mason,

Almost three weeks ago, your dad moved out. I think I've started writing this blog fifteen times. Type. Delete. Start over new. I've tried talking to you about it, too - in the bath tub, during dinner, at the park - but the words never come out right and you look me in the eyes like you understand everything without me saying it anyway. I wonder all the time what you're thinking and how much you really do know. It's the most complicated feeling of wanting you to understand everything and nothing; wanting you to know I'm doing all I can to do what I hope is best for you and wanting you to remain sheltered and safe and oblivious. Sometimes we make sound, rational decisions and know we've made the right choice... other times decisions are like rolling the dice - six different possibilities, none of them perfect.

I don't have huge dreams. I never have, even for myself, really. I want you to have a house with a yard. I want you to go to school and ride your bike too fast and jump in mud puddles. I want to be able to get you a puppy. I want you to be happy in knowing that tons of people love you, especially your mom and your dad. A lot. Enough to know that we can be a better mom and a better dad and better friends to each other if we don't live together.

The other day, I found a letter I wrote you before you were born. October 14th, 2007 - before I knew that you were a little boy or that your name would be Mason or that you'd make my life completely perfect.

"Hey, baby. I'm your mom, I guess. It's pretty strange for me to say that, but now that I'm going to be someone's mother, I feel like it's my job to have some kind of fantastic advice for you... so here goes.

We grow up way too quickly, so stay a kid as long as you can. Give people a chance and always look for the best in them. For some, the best takes a little longer to show itself, but if you stick around long enough it will. If you have to argue, only argue over what you really care about and put your whole heart into it. Don't hold grudges. No matter what the world tries to tell you, you'll never be able to judge the character of others by the clothes they wear or how pretty they are. Look deeper. Life is tough and at times it hits you hard; let the hard times show you just how much you are capable of. Don't feel bad if you don't know what you want to be when you grow up (I still don't). Laugh. There are some things you just can't do. Try anyway and try as hard as you can. Sometimes this world can be an ugly place; take the time to find the beauty in it. Be a good tipper. Always appreciate the little things people do for you. Read something, even if it isn't the stuff they tell you to read in school. Don't sit around and don't play too many video games, there's far too much in the world to see, even if the farthest you go is your own backyard. Dance. As for love, share all you have with every person you meet. The most pain you'll ever feel will be a broken heart but it's okay - the pain lets you know you have one. Remember to never forget how much it hurt, because someday you'll have to break someone's heart, too. Karma is real - what goes around will inevitably come around; be gentle, be kind, and be honest. Marry for love and marry your best friend. Don't smoke. If you drink, don't drink and drive. No matter how busy you find yourself, make time to play. Take pictures. Travel. Don't dwell on 'should haves' or 'what ifs'. Hold your head high. Keep things in perspective and take them as they come. Be strong, but if you can't, know that it's okay to cry. Let people live their lives the way they want to and don't stand for anyone determining how you live yours. Take it light. Dream heavy. Love hard."

I read it, I cried, and I decided to take my own advice. Life is messy and confusing but it's beautiful too... and just because you don't get the ending you think you will doesn't mean the ending can't be a happy one. Things always work out, Mase. Always. The most important thing in the world is knowing that you're loved. And you are.

Mama

They Still Fit

Mase and Mads reunited after their couple week hiatus (neither Aimee nor I leave the house when it rains, so the babies hardly got to see each other the entire dreary month of July) before Aimee, Jeff, and Madelynn left for Florida. We went to Red Lobster - where Mads spooned a bowl full of mac and cheese all over her dress and Mase played in his water and flung fruit on the floor - and the park.

I only got a couple pictures of the babies in the swing together (I'm still sans Nikon)... next time we get over to the park together they might be too big for one swing. Or who knows, maybe Aimee and I will still be squeezing them in there together at two years old.

I'm sure it'll be just as cute.

Camera Resurrection

Tuesday was cleaning day. It always is. I dust, vacuum, and scrub... and if everything goes well the entire apartment gets cleaned on Tuesdays. Mase is always my little helper - when I wipe something off, he has to be right beside me with his paper towel. When I clean the carpets, he has to be sitting on top of the vacuum or pushing it along with me. This week, he dragged the Swiffer out to the balcony and started cleaning our wooden porch.

I wished I had a camera; he looked so cute Swiffering. I pulled out the broken Nikon and gave it a try for the heck of it. Turns out, it works if I can manage to simultaneously focus, hold the lens on, and press the button! Fabulous!

The Pictures That Started it All

Maybe if I had just finished taking some fantastic portraits of Mason sitting in a flower garden or petting the dogs at the park I'd feel better about the destruction of the Nikon. But these? His little foot with toilet paper stuck to it. In poor lighting. With the flash on. I can't even say they were worth it.

A Jumbled Story with a Devestating Ending

Mason's getting tall. Really tall. I think I'll measure him tomorrow. He's got to be thirty-five inches tall by now, at least. The point is, now that he's running all over the place, he's keeping me really busy. Too busy to blog, by the looks of things. Even too busy to take pictures, most of the time. He's fast. And man, he's tall.

Yesterday morning, I was washing a couple breakfast dishes and wiping the few casualties remaining from Mase's egg, sausage, and toast breakfast (no wonder he's so tall - the kid can EAT!) off the kitchen cabinets, when I turned my back to the little bugger for a second. Now, prior to breakfast, I was in the bathroom and Mase unrolled a bunch of toilet paper (like he always does) but this time when I chased him away from his TP streamer catastrophe a piece of it stuck to his foot. I ran out into the living room, grabbed the camera, and took some shots all while cracking up and thinking about the witty blog title I was going to use for the pictures.

So yeah, then we had breakfast. And I'd put the camera on the counter; it wasn't in its case or anything since Mase's eggs were burning and the kid was famished. Like I said, afterwards I wiped down the cabinets and did the dishes which took me about two minutes, tops. But it was two minutes too long, because I'd stopped paying attention to my fast, busy, TALL baby. Who, apparently, is tall enough to reach the kitchen counter. Tall enough to grab my beloved Nikon D40 in his sticky little baby fingers.

To sum up a painful story, two minutes was long enough for Mason to try to figure out how the inside of a camera works by ripping the lens off the body, snapping two tiny (important) pieces of plastic that hold the lens on. I gazed down at my shattered camera, took a deep breath (okay, two), and collected my baby from the floor. Then I picked up Mason.

So yes, I'm camera-less until I can somehow manage to either get this lens fixed or save enough pennies to buy the five hundred dollar one I really want. It's been twenty-four hours, and I've already missed out on taking pictures of Mase pushing Mads around on his dump truck, Mase at the park, AND the two of us feeding the fish this afternoon. Who cares if I already have three hundred pictures of the kid on a swing? Those memories are priceless.

Hopefully, I'll find a way to blog without pictures. I think I'm experiencing some kind of writer's block though. I just can't find the words to say what I want to say - hence the jumbledness of this one. But I'll find a way, even if it's a little messy. Oh, and I still have those toilet paper pictures...