Here’s the thing about life.
Just because you’re dealing with something tough, doesn’t mean that nothing else bad will happen. Just because the world is going through a crisis, doesn’t mean that another one can’t dump right on top of it and demand what’s left of your attention.
And just because it’s your son’s third birthday, doesn’t mean that your cat won’t die.
It all started with an Instagram ad.
Huh - that’s interesting, I remember thinking. I texted it to Tom as an almost joke – wouldn’t we be crazy if we did this? He immediately was on board and started talking about logistics and I got scared and backed way off. I wasn’t serious! We couldn’t do that! Let me think about it.
And I thought about it the entire way home. And after I put the boys to bed. And it seemed… possible?
So I went back to Tom and told him I think we should attempt it. Because why not. If we failed miserably, at least we’d have something to put in the baby book.
Thank you to everyone who helped us through our rough time with our kitty, and has been asking about her since. We took her to the vet again recently, to recheck her labs and see how she was doing. As always, baby G tagged along for the trip. When we got there, instead of bringing us back into an exam room, the vet tech said they’d just grab Maia and get her labs, and we could wait up front.
I will say, it was a pretty odd feeling. I was sitting next to a woman with her new puppy, and across from a guy and his cat. And I was sitting there… with my baby?
Okay we all know I can go a little overboard at times, yes? And sometimes I’ll admit that I’m not sure if I can actually pull off what I’ve dreamed up or not. This was one of those projects.
Almost a year ago we started talking about getting E a play kitchen. I spent some time looking at what was out there, and trying to decide what we wanted. A lot of them were pretty, but a bit plastic, and I wasn’t sure how well they’d hold up.
Nick Names: Bubba, Sweetness
Height: 28.75 inches (13th percentile)
Weight: 21 pounds, 8 oz (54th percentile)
Head: 18 inches (40th percentile)
Special Outings: Panera, Market Basket
Visitors: Grandma & Grandpa, Becca & Joe, Nicole, Alice & Stephen, Aunt Joanie, Uncle Rick & Brooke
Loves: Laundry baskets, coat hangers, walking by pushing furniture
Hates: Waking up during the night, empty bottles, getting hurt
I ran out of wipes, once, when we were on vacation. Even though I had packed one of those huge packs from Costco, and even though I had a backup in the diaper bag, we ran out. I remember the panic that came with knowing that I had no more. It wasn't even that big of a problem, really. It meant an extra trip to town to go buy more, but that wasn't a huge deal. I missed an hour of time with my baby, and Tom had to deal with some witching hour antics by himself, but it was fine. I ran out, bought some more, and our crisis was over. I remember I barely even paused in the aisle with the wipes. I grabbed whatever was closest, and was on my way.
The funny thing is, last year I didn't even manage to get a post up on his birthday, yet I felt much more put together than I do this year. It's true that when you have a baby, it becomes all about them, and the parents get put on the back burner.
That doesn't mean the birthday won't be celebrated, but it does mean there won't be a cake waiting for Tom when he gets home tonight. Because baby. We'll find some time to celebrate this weekend, and we've already picked out a joint birthday present of sorts in the form of a home improvement project that will happen in the next month or so.
Just because the theme with parenting seems to be "Nothing ever goes according to plan," our Halloween plans changed last minute due to a wind storm that knocked out power across New England, and caused trick-or-treating to be postponed in a few local towns (including the one we were going to visit).
Or another way to look at it is that our Halloween celebrations are going to be extended! (and probably cause Thanksgiving to sneak up on us...). So while we haven't gone trick-or-treating yet, we'll get to it soon.
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away....
...we were young, single, and living in the city. We'd go to the movies at least twice a week. We'd see concerts on week nights, we'd go to comedy shows and musicals and anything we could get tickets to.
We'd wander the streets looking for new restaurants, places to shop, things to do. No T ride was too long, no hour was too late, it was all doable. And FUN!
Because it's been a while since we've been outside of the house past 6pm. Because we don't get many "just for fun" outings any more. Because we need to learn how to do this. Because when Northeastern has Red Sox/Yankee tickets, you can't say no. Because even though your son is only two and a half months old, he's two and a half months old and going to his first Red Sox game! Against the Yankees! Because we just gave him bragging rights for life.
And so we went.
Every year I'd look for it, and every year it was there. Maybe not on the first box I picked up, but eventually I'd find the correct one. And there it was, tied to the ribbon around the box. Not just any type of ribbon either - she always used the puffy, yarn-like, braided ribbon, usually in red, green or white. No thin curling ribbon here. Sometimes I could free it myself, other times I needed the help of scissors. And then off it would go to my mom for safe keeping, while I tore open the packages to see what was inside. Although at the time it was never the gift itself, always treated as more of a decoration of sorts, it's the only thing I've kept and enjoyed year after year.