lullaby prose, bedtime

Bedtime rolls around, and you splash in the tub.

Your splashes get bigger and bigger every time, I swear.

You love being naked.

We wrap you up in striped pajamas and dry that fuzzy head.

We give you raspberries on your tummy and on your ham hocks.

I nurse you and hold your tiny hand in mine.

You rub your eyes.

So sleepy. 

You snuggle into me.

We read some stories.

Goodnight to the old lady whispering "hush"

We pray. 

We pray for you and your body, for mommy and daddy.

We pray that you'll know how much you're loved.

Because you are loved. 

So, so much.

You start squirming, so into the crib you go.

You rub your face against your blanket.

Your eyes droop.

I kiss your head one more time.
I'll see you when you wake up.
Just one more kiss.

if only the public cared more about usage

Over the weekend I was checking out at Joann's, and I saw this sign posted on all of the registers:

Cash and credit/debit cards must be used only for purchasing gift cards.

Naturally I was perplexed. Because what this sign says is that you can't use cash or debit cards for anything besides gift cards; the only thing you can buy with cash or a debit card is a gift card. That's what it says. And I believed it. When I asked the cashier about the reason behind this new policy, she looked at me like I was the one who misunderstood the use of only. 

What the signs should have said was this: 

Gift cards can only be purchased with cash or credit/debit cards.

Obviously.

at the Wilsons'

Chocolate valentine cake

Paper valentines

An available valentine

Valentine flowers

Wrappers from valentine chocolate

Hard-won baby smiles

A reluctant, though able, roller

Over-priced, smaller-boxed minty goodness

the second time I fell in love with him

I let his calls go to voicemail twice. I answered the third time. I wasn't angry or even nervous. I was certainly curious. What could Josh have to say to me now, a year and a half since we'd broken up? In spite of all the empirical evidence against Josh, I agreed to see him. Frankly, I had nothing to lose.

{Christmas break 2009, three months after he called}

(For a while I wondered why I'd had that other serious relationship during my Josh hiatus. Why go through something so intense if it was never meant to be? Now I'm positive that that disappointing and frustrating relationship set me up perfectly to let Josh back into my life. Josh's phone call on that exact day wasn't luck or coincidence--it was Providence.)

After some pep talks from my mom, sister, and good friend Laura, I was ready to spend real time with Josh--no commitment, no promises, just time. We talked, and we talked about real things and real emotions. If you read Josh's post about the baby, you'll know that while Josh certainly has feelings, he has an incredibly hard time talking about them. But he voiced his feelings about me and invited me into his life in a way he never had before.

Over the next days and weeks I noticed changes in how I felt about myself. When I was with Josh I felt wanted and loved, a stark contrast to what remained from my previous relationship. The more I saw him the more I wanted to see him. After a month and a half of me holding back and him ardently persisting, I said yes. Let's try this one more time.

It wasn't long before I fell in love with him again, but don't mistake this love for the first love. I needed to fall out of love with Josh before I could fall again. My first love was something that I let happen to me; I surrendered parts of myself that needed to be there. This time, my love was a choice. This was a love matured and refined, felt and chosen. My love the second time had no ties to the love from before. Our first love hadn't been sustainable; our second one was--is--deep, enduring, beautiful.

{At my grandmother's funeral, 2010, three weeks before he proposed}

I choose you, my heart said to his. I choose to love you and to have you love me. I choose you every moment. You're my choice forever.

a small interjection from Mr. Wilson . . .

This couple's "how we met" story is about to reach its conclusion. Our heroine will find resolution, and the hero will find redemption. Let me set the stage for Act III:

I was casually involved with a girl down the hall, and on this particular day she and I were looking through some of my photos on Facebook. We came to a photo of Charlotte and me and I thought to myself, I would really like to see her again. I kept this sentiment to myself, and politely excused myself to make a quick phone call outside. I believe this is where our story picks up.

Any one of several thoughts may be going through your mind right now. "What does casually involved mean?!", "Was he picking up on two girls at the same time?!" or simply "What a tool!"

Your indignation is justified, and I am not proud of what you have just learned. But I think that it is the flawed characters of literature that are the most interesting, don't you?

when I fell out of love with him

It was hard for me to move on. Every day on my way to campus I'd pass his apartment complex, wondering whether I'd see him and what I'd say or do if I did. We had several run-ins that school year, some accidental and some not. Every time I pretended that I'd gotten over it, but I hadn't. I tried and tried not to think about him; my heartbreak was active and ever-present.

My moment of absolution came in the grocery store one day in February. I saw Josh in the cereal aisle, and when he turned on the charm I wasn't swayed. What followed could only be described as something straight out of a Meg Ryan movie. I left empowered and free. In the months after our grocery store encounter I pieced myself back together and emerged whole and healed. That summer I fell in love with someone else.

***

That interim relationship could easily win its own narrative, but I'll truncate it. It started out simple and turned complicated. After a few months it started crumbling, but I dived into denial and told myself it would work. But it wasn't working. I was unhappy. I didn't feel valued or loved or important by the person I was with.

That's when my phone rang, when my phone displayed "Josh Wilson" for the first time in nine months.

the first time I fell in love with him

First off, thank you for all your kind comments on my post the other day. They were truly thoughtful and kind, and it's so relieving to know that I'm not alone in sometimes feeling out of my element as a mother.

This month marks five years since I first met Josh. I remember it so clearly. Katelyn and I were at a friend's dessert party (can you say BYU party?), a party that, frankly, I didn't really feel up for. But Katelyn convinced me to attend. The first time I saw Josh he was heading up a back massage train. (Yes, a back massage train.) We clicked immediately, and even though it took him three weeks to call me, he did, and the next month and a half was a blur of heart palpitations, infatuation, and incredible kissing.

{March 2008}

I was smitten. Oh so wonderfully smitten. This is it, I thought. He's it for me. I had never felt more compatible or alive with anyone. I went to a place where I relinquished myself to infatuation and unbridled giddiness. My mind and emotions were going faster than the rest of me could, leaving me vulnerable and exposed. I never told Josh that I loved him, but I felt it. This fledgling, immature love was very real and, looking back, also very unstable and insecure.

Then Josh broke up with me at the end of the semester. I was crushed, devastated, throwing-up-in-the-bathroom heartbroken. The break wasn't clean, though, and I clung desperately to the hope that in the fall we would pick up right where we left off.

The next time I saw him, when classes picked back up in September, he was hand-in-hand with another girl. My heart broke all over again.

uncertainty and motherhood

The past few days have been pushing me down, making me second-guess my decisions as a mother and sometimes a wife. Why is it that one day motherhood can lift me up and make me feel so confident and the next make me feel inadequate and unsure? Lately I've been feeling uncertain, thinking How did I ever think that I could be given charge over such a perfect, wonderful, joyful soul when I, myself, am so lacking? 

I feel like all I do is experiment, pretend like I know what I'm doing: Will feeding him before bedtime help him sleep better? Should I go in at night to put the pacifier in, or should he just cry it out? Can I even handle crying it out? How can I make sure he doesn't get overstimulated when he's awake? But what if I'm not doing enough with him? How can I set boundaries for growth and still show him how much he's loved? And looming in the recesses of mind, What if I fail him? 

I don't know if these thoughts really have a conclusion tonight, but there they are, typed and published, my vulnerability showcased to the masses. So, that's that, I suppose (probably my lamest conclusion to date).

sayonara

I gave January a kick in the pants by taking a semi-spontaneous jaunt up to Seattle for a night this week. I have this friend whom I would easily describe as kindred spirit, even though we'd never met. She lives up in Seattle with her husband, Joe, and dog, Chewie, and I basically invited myself and my baby up for a short stay.

{Tulips at Pike Place}

Seattle is only a three-hour drive away, so Asher and I threw some things into a bag or two and headed away on Tuesday afternoon. Most of my short stay we just talked. And talked and talked and talked. Despite our delightful blogging friendship, I will admit to apprehension at actually meeting Ande in person. What if a real-life friendship didn't come as easily as our virtual one? My fears were thoroughly unfounded. Ande is as wonderful in reality as she is in her blog and blog comments, and our conversation flowed as easily as if we'd met years ago.

She was the most gracious of gracious hostesses. She made me tortellini soup and chocolate chip cookies for dinner, and steel-cut oats with pomegranate for breakfast. Late Wednesday morning we went to Pike Place where we wandered and ate donuts and chowder and croissants.

I couldn't have thought of a better way to say farewell to this month and to do so a little bit early. So, January, you lose in the end. I think those tulips prove it.

month five

Month five, where do I even begin? Month five involved everything from rolling to solids to sleeping to reaching to standing to bathing. 

:: You read right. Rolling. It happened.
:: He was so startled by what had just happened and mine and Josh's glee that he burst into tears.
:: He repeats the rolling when he feels like it.
:: He doesn't feel like it very often.
:: But it still happens.

:: He likes to sit.

:: But even more he likes us to help him stand.
:: When he stands he wobbles and wiggles those legs until he falls down.
:: And then we pull him back up and it starts all over again.

:: Solids were actually a huge hit.
:: I have pictures.
:: But we started solids right around when his sleeping took a nose dive.
:: So we abandoned rice cereal to focus on the sleeping.
:: Unfortunately, cereal did not seem to have an effect on his sleeping.

:: Asher can recognize his name.
:: And he gets lonely sometimes.
:: Sometimes he'll smile when he sees the camera.
:: And he sticks that tongue out like it's show-and-tell all day every day.

:: He's discovered new sounds, like the cranky croak.
:: He also quite enjoys gurgle conversations.
:: When you join in those conversations with him (with reciprocal gurgling, of course), he lights up.

:: That mop of fuzzy hair is just wonderful.
:: Some hairs that have been there a while are really long and stick straight up.
:: Then he has this new crop of fuzz that's been coming in.
:: Those hairs stick straight up too.
:: His mullet might have to go.
:: Soon.

:: Toes are a new favorite body part.
:: He can even fit them in his mouth.

:: Bath time is the best time.
:: Obviously.
:: He can splash and wiggle.
:: So we have to be extra vigilant in case he tries to wiggle out of his bath seat.

:: Sometimes Asher will flash a secret smile.
:: It's that smile that says, "Mom, Dad, this is just for you, because we're buds. And I know it."

:: I am constantly amazed at how this baby boy interacts with his world--he's learning and growing and moving and loving.
:: I couldn't imagine a better place to be.