Farterworks
- At July 7, 2009
- By Lotus, aka Sarcastic Mom
- In My Son, Parenting, Poop/Farts
21
Even though we took these photos over a month ago (dude, who keeps letting time move by SO FAST?) I thought I’d share them with you, because they kind of crack me up.
This was a Saturday morning Mac Photo Booth play session with Braden (hence the fabulous photo quality, *snort*). He is both silly and fun as well as intensely moody, whiny, and dramatic.
I really have no idea whose child this is. *wink*
smiling pretty for the camera
after being scolded for slapping the keyboard
making fun of him for whining
giving in to the giggles after the tears
I adore hanging out with him and being silly. He is displaying such a fabulous sense of humor these days, which makes it even more fun.
And by sense of humor, I mean that he is cracking me up by replicating my incorrigible taste for fart jokes, with indelible favorites like:
*the sound of fireworks outside*
Him: “Ooooooh, Farter!”
Me: “No, silly, you know those are fireworks!”
Him: Pause. *giggle* “Oooooooh, FARTER-WORKS!” *raucous laughter*
Me: *SMPL*
Gotta love havin’ a little boy. Especially when you are secretly one, too.
When that moment of toddler stubborn brat behavior is AWESOME.
Definitely should have gone through his bookshelf and reclaimed this one already.
I won’t lie and say I haven’t seen it and thought about that already. I have. I’ve noticed it over and over again. Why did I leave it there? Honestly, I have no idea. Maybe I WANTED him to ask me about it. Maybe it’s just like the bottle of Prometrium. Or maybe it’s simply another one of those things I haven’t had the energy for lately. I wouldn’t doubt it – that list seems to grow exponentially.
When Braden brought this book, “I’m a Big Brother!” to me to read yesterday, it was one of those Big Sigh Moments. What was I going to do? It’s not like I could tell him, “Oh, no, Braden. Mommy can’t read this to you because you AREN’T a big brother! Mommy’s attempts at elevating you to that status were what The Internet likes to call a FAIL. In other words, Braden, U can haz babee bruthr? #NO.”
So, I just did the Internal Tamping of Emotions and took the book, opened it, and prepared to read it to him. With perhaps a few edits, or maybe even an entirely fake story. “This totally looks like a baby, but it’s really a rocket ship headed for outer space! Weee!”
He had one of those ultra I CAN DO IT MYSELF moments suddenly, however, and he snatched the book back because he had decided he didn’t want me to read it after all. He wanted to read it to himself. He employed toddler gibberish style reading… something along the lines of, “Sebbah litte bear and a shhh shhh bee bee alla beb and too and no no no hahahahaha, then daddee so hehe see? Hahahaha!”
Much better than anything I was going to make up. And definitely a moment when I was so glad that he inherited my his dad’s control issues.
Trying hard every day to heed my own advice.
Today’s Photohunt Theme is “Thankful”
July, 2008
It’s a word that causes cliche
to flood through my mind and still
those things I cherish and value
can’t be labeled as cliche and tossed aside
I hold him and him dear; they are my world
Things happen in life to make you realize
that every day with the blessing of love
ticks by so fast, if we let it
It is easy to sing a song of pain
and hold on to heartache
It is easy to ignore love as
the way things should be
Let the cliches fill your mind
let yourself get caught up in the meaning
the word evokes in you
Be thankful
And live it.
Taking it one emotional bump at a time.
It’s that time of the month when I’m more emotional than usual. More sad. More stressed. More angry. More prone to tears, what ifs, and blank stares.
Recently, a long-time and very dear friend of mine named Jenny sent me an email that carries important words, and good advice. I asked her permission to share it with you all, and she agreed.
So, for any of you out there who are feeling, have felt, or will feel the same way I do right now, maybe you’ll find something here that helps you turn it around, or just to deal with it more effectively. Or maybe just to make it through another day without feeling like giving up.
**************
I know you didn’t ask for any advice, and so against my better judgment I’m going to offer some without solicitation, and I hope you’ll forgive me for doing so. You know my story, you know about all my failed pregnancies. Five years ago, I was struggling. My life wasn’t turning out like I wanted. I had dead babies instead of living ones. I had no answers and no health insurance to help me find answers. I had crazy moods and baby hamster hairballs in the shower drain and an empty womb and it wasn’t what I had planned. All my friends were on their 3rd or 4th child by then. I was tired of going to other people’s baby showers. I was broken hearted every time I looked in the spare closet and saw baby clothes and gear staring back at me, taunting me with their uselessness. I absolutely hated to hear any pregnant woman complain about her nausea, her swollen feet, her tiredness- what I would give for any of that. After the hopefulness that came with each positive pregnancy test, came the fear of loss, the inevitable emotional investment and hope, and then the emptiness of actual loss.
Then came this moment where I could see clearly: While I really do believe that most of the pain of the human experience is self-inflicted, some things are truly beyond our control. My life is not always about my choices. Things happen to us, and we get no say in how they turn out. What could I do about my childbearing life at that point? Could I change history, or even my obstetrical future? No. The situation was out of my hands. But the great realization was about gratitude. Could I hold my babies and raise them and nurse them? No, but I had other opportunities that my friends with little babies did not: I could go out of the house for more than 2 or 3 hours at a time. Heck, I could go out of town if I wanted. I could give blood, and do upside down yoga poses. I could make love to my husband without the let-down reflex squirting breast milk everywhere. I could work and take night classes. I could sky dive and ride roller coasters.
I couldn’t control what was happening to my body. I had to resort myself to the fact that 1- I may never know what is causing this to happen, and 2- I may never give birth to another living child. Rather than dwelling on those uncontrollable elements, I chose to focus on what I did have. The summation of the realization for me was this: Be grateful for what you have, when you have it.
I could spend my time and energy wanting what I couldn’t have, wishing for something beyond my control, hoping for karma or God to sort out the kinks and make everything right, or I could make the most of what I had right then, even if it wasn’t what I had hoped. I realized that no matter what life is handing me, I have a multitude of blessings to make the journey pleasant, even wonderful, if I choose to see them. Life is fluid, ever changing and shifting. I would not always be in the place, emotionally, mentally, that I was in then. Who’s to say if I’d be in a better one or not, that is also out of my hands to a degree. I knew that if I did have another child, I would have a host of other challenges, as well as blessings to appreciate. But for now, this is what I had. And I owed it to my husband and living children who were depending on me, and to God who gives me each day, to make it count for something. If not, life would end up passing me by while I hoped for what was around the corner. Be thankful for what you have, when you have it.
Again, know that I care and I want you to feel well and whole. If I’m full of crap, you won’t hurt my feelings to 1- roll your eyes and hit delete, or 2- write me back in all caps and tell me how wrong I am.
*********
Of course, I didn’t roll my eyes. I nodded and cried. And now I look back at these words often.
I think I’m going to take Braden to the park on Thursday and watch him run around and remember that the day he was born to me, whole and alive, was such a special blessing. Every day after that with him (even the tough ones) has been another special blessing in and of itself. There’s really nothing bad that can happen that can ever take from me the great gift of everything I’ve experienced so far with my son. So many wonderful things and moments – there’s no way to catalog them.
Today, I am thankful for that. And remembering to be thankful for that makes the other stuff easier to deal with.
Baby steps.
Thank you, dear friend.
That there would be three.
It was Thanksgiving
and we were with family.
Then, time to go home.
In the car we spoke.
We agreed that it was time
to make three from two.
Nervous, excited.
Unsure? Sure. Afraid? Secure.
We’re gonna do it!
The pill for that day
still sits in its plastic case
with all of its friends.
Two months after that
life sprung forth inside of me.
Braden existed.
On Valentine’s Day
I gave my best friend a gift -
The news of his child.
In October we
laid eyes on a being who was
the sum of our love.
Life has changed for us
in so many, varied ways.
We’d never turn back.
11.07, It Has Been 13 Months.
It is November 16, 2007. It has been 13 months since you blessed my life with your touch.
This past month, something beyond words has been happening. That’s going to make this really difficult for me, because Mommy’s trying really hard to use her words right now.
All this time, since the day I worked harder than I ever have before, I have been amazed while watching you become.
This past month has been insane. For the first time, you are really showing us what a little person you are. Oh, don’t get me wrong, we’ve been seeing your personality for some time now.
But not like this.
Where on earth did you get that smile? And that silly way you have of hamming for us?
Who passed on that attittude!?
You give me this look at times as if to say, “Oh, Good Lord, Mother, I mean, REALLY.” I’m left just *blinking* after you, wondering, “When did my little goo-ball develop real human emotions and quirks!?”
I SWEAR you are already trying to make jokes with us. Do you know how proud I am of that?
And by the way, this recent development of you actually coming to me and going, “Uhhn!” whenever you have a turd onboard? I LOVE THAT. I have this little thing you might like, sweetie… it’s called a “potty.”
You wave now, with purpose. When Daddy goes “bye-bye” for work, you give your little, parade salute. The other night, you even said, “butbut” from your stance in the bathie as you waved to the most proud Daddy ever.
Zack, the doggie (Ogg-Ogg!) is still your bestest friend and favorite obsession, second only to “owsigh!” (outside).
If you don’t get the proper amount of exposure to both of these each day YOUR HEAD WILL LITERALLY FALL OFF YOUR BODY. We have learned to keep lots of super glue and duct tape on hand for rainy days.
When you are tired of your toys, you run to me, arms outstretched, for a hug. You climb into my lap, and you nestle your face into my neck, and you sigh audibly, “Ahhh-mmmmm.” It is the sound of love. You own me.
You ate your first, whole apple of your very own, with skin! this past month. Well, it WAS going to be mine, but as we were sitting next to one another on the couch, you looked up at me, took it, and started to eat it. I was amazed.
Who taught you how to do that?
I watched you, trying not to cry over something so silly as you eating an apple… but it means you’re not a baby anymore. That makes me smile, swell with pride, and cry all at the same time.
You did this for the first time, too. You are learning too fast…
Over the course of many months, I have pointed at the River Tank Aquarium approximately one thousand and seventeen times, and showed you the “turtle! see the turtle honey!?” The other day, you stopped what you were doing, walked across the room, pointed at Eddie the Turtle and said, “Tard-ah!”
You are actually listening to me. You are learning.
And, you know, not that long ago, your Daddy and I saw Eddie trying to eat her own, stringy floater. So, quite frankly, she is quite a “Tard-ah.” Just one of the many (endless) things you have pointed out to me about the world that I didn’t see through my own, old eyes.
You take me one step closer to truly seeing the world for what it really is every time those amazing lashes slap down on that soft skin.
You actually make it look good.
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”
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