This past weekend, my baby boy celebrated his first birthday with a baseball party. We had the party set for Saturday afternoon in my in-laws backyard since they have much more yard than we do. I had planned to have the party under a tent, with baseball decorations, food you find at a baseball game, and baseball themed games.
I just didn't anticipate the torrential downpour. or the freezing temperatures. or the 95mph winds.
Ok. I'm totally exaggerating, but it was a little rainy, cold and windy. For me, a planner who pictures how something is supposed to be and doesn't want that plan changed in any way, the weather was not what I had pictured. or planned. I certainly didn't picture, or realize how cold it was going to be. I mean, last year, when we brought Jack home from the hospital I was wearing flip flops. I have pictures. This year, I was wearing my winter coat, scarf, and cowboy boots.
As someone who is extremely conscious of what I wear, my husband wears, and my son wears, I had those outfits planned too. The weather just didn't allow for them. We all had to wear winter coats. I ordered Jack a monogrammed baseball shirt from etsy to wear, but wouldn't you know it, it didn't get here in time. I ordered it at the end of September. It was in the mailbox when we got home from the party....
Despite the rain, the cold, and the wind, the missing monogrammed shirts, the forced winter coats, the tent nearly collapsing numerous times throughout the afternoon, we had a party that is filled with wonderful memories, that although Jack may not remember, I will never forget.
Stay tuned....Pictures of the party are coming:)
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Sunday, October 23, 2011
To my little boy, with love from his mommy
Dear Jack,
Last night, you woke up crying at 12AM. I looked over at your Daddy desperately hoping that he heard you and would get you, but he was snoring away. I pulled the covers back, sat up, put my feet on the floor, and with a big sigh walked to your door. I pushed it open. I walked to your crib. I looked down at you, my precious son. When you heard me, you looked up at me with tears in your eyes. "Mommy, hold me," they said. And I could not resist you.
I picked you up and walked you to the rocking chair. We sat down hoping for peace. I held your small, yet heavy body, clothed in the cutest fire truck footed pajamas, close to my heart. As a stroked your hair, I sang to you. I sang songs that hadn't been in my head for years. Songs that my mother sang to me. Songs of peace and comfort. Songs of joy and love. Songs of Jesus. Peace came.
You fell back asleep in approximately 2.3 seconds, yet I continued to rock you. I could feel your heartbeat. I could feel you inhale and exhale. I looked at you, my precious boy. I prayed for you. In that moment, I cherished you in a unique way. I thanked God that He brought you to me in His perfect timing; He picked you for me, little one.
That early, early morning I thought about what a privilege and joy you are. You have taught me more in your first year of life than I ever thought possible. You have taught me patience. You have taught me sacrifice. You have taught me selflessness. You have have taught me what true love is. You have taught me about our Father's love for us.
I didn't really want to put you back in your crib that night. I felt as if I could hold you forever. I wanted to hold that chubby hand as long as it would stay in mine. I wanted to feel your little body nestled close against mine for all of eternity. I love you sweet boy. I always will.
Love, Mommy
Last night, you woke up crying at 12AM. I looked over at your Daddy desperately hoping that he heard you and would get you, but he was snoring away. I pulled the covers back, sat up, put my feet on the floor, and with a big sigh walked to your door. I pushed it open. I walked to your crib. I looked down at you, my precious son. When you heard me, you looked up at me with tears in your eyes. "Mommy, hold me," they said. And I could not resist you.
I picked you up and walked you to the rocking chair. We sat down hoping for peace. I held your small, yet heavy body, clothed in the cutest fire truck footed pajamas, close to my heart. As a stroked your hair, I sang to you. I sang songs that hadn't been in my head for years. Songs that my mother sang to me. Songs of peace and comfort. Songs of joy and love. Songs of Jesus. Peace came.
You fell back asleep in approximately 2.3 seconds, yet I continued to rock you. I could feel your heartbeat. I could feel you inhale and exhale. I looked at you, my precious boy. I prayed for you. In that moment, I cherished you in a unique way. I thanked God that He brought you to me in His perfect timing; He picked you for me, little one.
That early, early morning I thought about what a privilege and joy you are. You have taught me more in your first year of life than I ever thought possible. You have taught me patience. You have taught me sacrifice. You have taught me selflessness. You have have taught me what true love is. You have taught me about our Father's love for us.
I didn't really want to put you back in your crib that night. I felt as if I could hold you forever. I wanted to hold that chubby hand as long as it would stay in mine. I wanted to feel your little body nestled close against mine for all of eternity. I love you sweet boy. I always will.
Love, Mommy
Friday, October 7, 2011
Starting over
It's really difficult to start a blog post after not blogging for awhile. Im not really sure where or how to start again. So, I'm just going to start with this:
I read blogs daily. All types of blogs. My friends blogs, well-known blogs, decorating blogs, recipe blogs (skinny taste.com y'all!) but I also read blogs of complete strangers... I mean it's somewhat strange. I read blogs of people I don't know, but the stories of their lives entice me. I mean, just the other week I read someone's 2 year long blog. I read every .single .entry. I read about birthday dinners, decorating, cooking, a child's sickness, a ballgame, a snow day, halloween, thanksgiving, Christmas, valentines day, well you get the picture....so I thought to myself:
Self, remember that little blog you once started, you know the one you were going to use to document your son's life? The one that was going to be great and well- written and informative and awesome? Well, your son is 2 weeks shy of his first birthday, and you haven't posted since he was one month old! Shame!
So, I'm gonna try it again. I can't promise anything exciting or great. I can't promise eloquent words. I can't promise delicious recipes or home makeovers. I can't promise advice, inspiration, or guidance. But I want to be real. I want to be honest. I want to share my life.
I read blogs daily. All types of blogs. My friends blogs, well-known blogs, decorating blogs, recipe blogs (skinny taste.com y'all!) but I also read blogs of complete strangers... I mean it's somewhat strange. I read blogs of people I don't know, but the stories of their lives entice me. I mean, just the other week I read someone's 2 year long blog. I read every .single .entry. I read about birthday dinners, decorating, cooking, a child's sickness, a ballgame, a snow day, halloween, thanksgiving, Christmas, valentines day, well you get the picture....so I thought to myself:
Self, remember that little blog you once started, you know the one you were going to use to document your son's life? The one that was going to be great and well- written and informative and awesome? Well, your son is 2 weeks shy of his first birthday, and you haven't posted since he was one month old! Shame!
So, I'm gonna try it again. I can't promise anything exciting or great. I can't promise eloquent words. I can't promise delicious recipes or home makeovers. I can't promise advice, inspiration, or guidance. But I want to be real. I want to be honest. I want to share my life.
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