But the rack does make a difference.

Dawn’s most recent SOOS Challenge, in honor of Sandy and her family moving into their new house, was to talk about what makes your house a home.

(Also, Veronica and her family are moving into their house in 6 days!)

I wasn’t all together sure, so I decided to walk through our (rental) house (that we’re staying in for another year, despite this, ugh.) and look around a bit while mulling the question over.

“Hmmm… what makes our house a home?”

Is it John’s Forever And Ever, Amen Junked-Up Nightstand?

No… that can’t be it.

And yeah, I’ve tried repeatedly to organize it for him, but it generally only stays clean for .52342 seconds. So I stopped trying.

Wait, maybe it’s the pile of dirty clothes!

No, no… hold on, it’s The Pile of CLEAN CLOTHES!

And the rack that relates to it?

Ugh. That can’t be it. It’s not about clothes or even racks.

“Think, Lotus, Think!”

Let’s keep looking…

Is it the Poor Man’s Loveseat?

Or maybe ALL THE FREAKIN’ TOYS!?

(where did they all come from? we never planned this! i think they multiply at night.)

Ack. I think I’m still way off. It’s not the lack of reliable seating or the 8 million and five toys (though I’m beginning to realize why we can’t afford a real loveseat).

Oh, WAIT. I’ve got it!

It’s the highly disobedient dog!

And the URINE SOAKED BELONGINGS!

Why are you shaking your head? I got it all wrong again, huh?

Okay, let me sit down and think about this some more.

*Jeopardy Tune*

Ohhhh. Wait.

This is where Braden crawled for the first time.

And then walked.

And where we celebrated when he turned One Year Old.

It’s where my husband comes off the road and back to his son.

Their first Father’s Day together was in this house.

John and I celebrated loving one another for six years here recently.

And soon, we will celebrate four years of marriage at our tropical getaway! in this house.

It’s our home, because we are here together, building memories.

Here’s to all the family memories you will build into your new home for many years to come, Sandy and Veronica.

Butt In The Air

31 years ago today, at 2:47am, I was born in breech position.

I came into the world showing everyone my bootay.

Not much has changed since that first day.

Thanks to all of you who have been reading and replying.

You make every day my birthday when you’re willing to look at the ‘butt’ I’m always shoving in your face, and smile about it.

Reflection

Tomorrow, I turn 31.

Tips for First Birthdays

Tips for First Birthdays:

*DO take toys out of all packaging before wrapping, unless you like LOSING YOUR MIND.

Luckily, this occurred to me before we wrapped anything, and we didn’t go through the horror that I can only imagine some parents face after the child opens the present. It can take up to 7.23 years to get all the ridiculous twist ties off of some toys. By then, is your kid really gonna give a damn about the 1+Years Rated piece of crap xylophone you hand them? No, they’re going to want a computer, an MP3 player, and a cell phone. Damn kids.

*DO plan what you are going to do on that Special Day well before you retire for bed the night before.

…Unless you want to lie in bed with your husband, going on and on about what you think might make your kid happy in an excited mood, alternating between chattering endlessly (in such a manner that no one would be able to get a word in) and berating your mate for not giving any of his opinions, until your husband wants to smother you with a pillow so he can go to sleep.

*DO take so many pictures that the last several in every series are of your child looking at you like, “The next time you put that in my face, I’m going to grab it from you, bash you in the head with it, and then throw it out the window.”

(You’ll be glad later you have the pictures, even if your kid thinks ‘that metal box’ is growing out of your hand.)

_________

*DON’T set about the task of setting up/putting together any toys/gifts for your child with your husband unless there are anti-anxiety drugs close at hand.

Also during construction/setting up/rigging things you shouldn’t be rigging the way you’re rigging them… If your husband is careless with something dangerous, like…. ohhh, let’s say, fire, for example… right after you warned him to be careful, and he gets hurt… act concerned and help him dress his wounds instead of laughing, pointing, and singsonging, “I told you to be caaarefuuulll!”

*DON’T expect your kid to be as excited about all of this hoopla as you are.

For example, if he/she just doesn’t “get,” or “isn’t into,” or “couldn’t really give half a crap about” the whole present opening part of the deal, try not to wear the Face of Disappointment:

*DON’T put a pot of something to cook on the stove and then walk away to check your e-mail while the water boils and evaporates until the contents burn into a disgusting, crunchy wad and the SUPER FREAKIN’ LOUD smoke alarm (hey, at least it works) goes off at 982,238 decibels right when Birthday Boy is going down for his Birthday Nap.

*DON’T let your husband take Severe Allergy Medication, no matter how much he is sneezing, because he will start looking like he drank a keg of Guinness and then ran face-first into a pole.

*DON’T ask me how I know what that looks like.

Above all else, make sure your kiddo is happy, whatever that means for him/her.

And enjoy that happiness as much as you possibly can.

This birthday is unique. I imagine I’ll already see a big difference by Year 2, and eventually the bratty expectations and lists of demands will show up long before the day in question. (I’m drawing on memories of my own bratty expectations.)

But I figure I still have a good deal of time to practice saying things like,

“Yes, Braden, I know that Billy Patterson has one of those, but his father is a drug-dealer and closet-transvestite who pimps out his wife and burns his son with cigarettes. Do you want everything Billy has?”

Dear Braden

Braden,

It’s been a year since you’ve been outside of my womb, but you’ve been in my heart for 87 weeks. We found out about you on February 14, 2006. It was the best Valentine I’ve ever received.

It’s been a year since I held you in my arms for the first time and couldn’t believe I was touching you with my hands, for real. You were so tiny and perfect on that very first day.

A whole year has gone by since God trusted us enough to give to us a life to mold, a heart to hold, and a responsibility weightier than another other, to fulfill.

This past year, Braden, I have become a better, kinder, more thoughtful, happier, more centered, more careful, grounded person. I see everything differently. I appreciate everything more. Because of YOU. FOR you. As a friend of Daddy’s said, having a child makes you “see things rightly.”

You have accomplished so much this past year, Braden. I knew you would, but seeing it all happen before my very own eyes has been an experience like no other. Seeing you become has been a testament to God’s Creation for my soul.

During this year of your life on earth, my son, you have cheated (sickness can’t stop you), stolen (Momma and Dada’s hearts) and lied (your face isn’t the cutest possible… because it always gets more adorable tomorrow).

This year you have made your Momma so happy, so alive. You have topped every other accomplishment, event, situation, or experience I’ve had. There is nothing else in my past that I can compare to the glory that is being your mother.

It’s been the best year of my life, Braden.

Before you even existed as a tiny Wiggle Bean in the womb, I yearned for your life to spring up inside of me, and once I found out you were there, I was so anxious to meet you that I could have just burst. I had so many expectations and curiosities about you. You blew them all away, and the moment I saw you with my eyes the first time, I knew that I would give my life for you, without question, in an instant.

That will never change.

I love you, Braden. Happy First Birthday, my son.

Momma, Mommy, “Ehmmahhmmm”

Birthday Breakfast

So far the day has been wonderful. More to come, later.

Braden: The First Year, by Month

Tomorrow, my son turns One Year Old.I celebrate early with this.

This photostream represents each month of Braden’s Journey through the first year of his life.

There is an expanded tribute to his first year, Braden: The First Year on his photo page, A Braden A Day.

These collections of photos took me awhile to put together… Seems funny, because the year they represent seems to have passed in the blink of an eye. I want to cry a little.

No. A lot.

That being said, here is:

A Still Photo Documentary of Braden, The First Year, by Months

First Family Photo
October 16, 2006 8:58pm