
because this makes me smile.

today is the Realization of Conrad's Conception, and also my mothers birthday. yes, a year ago i went into the planned parenthood office to take a pregnancy test, not because i thought i was prego but because jon did; i sat in the waiting room playing tetris on my cell phone waiting for the nurse to come back in and tell me i wasn't pregnant followed by questions and suggestions about birth control methods. to which i would inform her i wasn't currently on anything but i did have two months supply of orthoglysomething and i would be taking them after my next period and i would have taken them this past month but i got all confused on when i was suppose to start: it should be the first sunday after, but what if my period ended on a sunday? instead she came back in her pink scrubs and set down a blue piece of paper no bigger than a business card on the desk next to me. she then proceded to inform me that "the test results came back positive". i was pregnant. my mind went to a total daze yet i did everything to reflect complete coolness; i wanted to convey joy and excitement but i was shocked and not married and had just moved across the country and had just started a job and was without health insurance and my god my parents had already gone through this once and i wanted to honor them and not make them think they raised me to know better because they had they were wonderful and set nothing but godly examples for me to follow and on and on and on my thoughts went at a dizzying speed. i took the paper and looked at it myself then looked back up with a smile and said "thank you". hoping to rush out as fast as possible because i could feel the tears of fear rushing to my eyes. but the lady in pink wanted to inform me of all my options. to which i wanted to puke. i wanted to punch her right in the mouth for even uttering the word "termination" in reference to the pea in my pod. i told her No Thank you before she could even finish and so she tried again and again i told her NO THANK YOU. i might have had the look of a dear in the headlights but i was more than happy to take responsability for my actions.
the hardest thing i ever had to do was to say goodbye to michelle in dallas. i was thinking about it today: revisiting that first hour in the car, her in my rear view mirror as i drove down Main St. i cried till the dallas skyline was a blur then i turned up some nostaglic tunes and zoned out.

and that little addition that made the family, little C, he's more adorable than ever. always surprising us with his personality and developments and the ability to suck on me till he throws up. he's also very particular, and that i didn't see coming. one of his points of desire is to be held facing out. which would be a whole lot easier if i had a durable baby carrier but we don't so my poor, poor arms and back are getting the toning of a lifetime.





i am sooooooo floored that i get to be your Mommy.
i can't believe you turn 5 weeks tonight. it seems like yesterday we brought you home, yesterday when we were bewildered on just exactly how to put you in your car seat, yesterday when you felt so fragile in my arms, yesterday when you couldn't quite lift your head, yesterday when the only smiles you gave were for gas.
a few days ago you gave me your first "social" smile. we were in the kitchen, i was holding you talking about what i should eat for breakfast , you were staring so intently into my eyes and then It happened: that beautiful smile came over your face, your eyes light up, and you grinned with even more excitement as i returned the gesture. i thought i had died and gone to heaven.
your uncle jeremy was back in town this past weekend. your really into his guitar and absolutely get giddy when he serenades you. on saturday morning i left you with him and your daddy so i could do the laundry and do some garage sale-ing. while i was out the two of them put on a show for you and i was told about you couldn't stop smiling. to which, i wasn't surprised. your quite the musical baby. music is one of our best weapons to combat your fussiness. you take naps to the sounds of sigur ros and kings of convience, are pacified when i sing you lullabys, and mystified into total attentiveness when your daddy plays you the bass. i have no dount in my mind that one day, in some form or fashion, you will be a little musician yourself.
on sunday it seemed you were bored so i went to Target and bought you a Baby Einstien play mat. now i wish i had bought a video camera to go with it to capture how vigorously you kick your legs and flare your arms at the excitement it offers you. and oh my dear god, when you actually grabbed one of the swinging toys dangeling down...well that seemed to be the ultimate rush for you.
you've also begun demonstrating your opinions in an individualistic vociferously manner. ecspecially when it comes to eating, more or less when being taken away from the boobie before you decide that your done. the noises that come from your sweet little self are too good to be true. the first time it happened i had to look around the room for another source of such...err, such...uniqueness. and somethings just bother you. like the other day when i was washing the dishes and you were in your bouncer right behind me, i was talking to you and you were smiling and then all of a sudden a soapy plate slipped through my fingers and at the end of it's descent into the sink it made a loud CLANG noise to which you lost your shit over. it took nearly 30 minutes to quell your spirit back into serenity; you were so distraught and i felt like a complete ass for soaping that plate too much.
i'm trying my hardest at being the perfect mommy for you. i really, really am. i'm taking notes on what you like and what you don't like, how you want to loved and interacted with, and what all i can give you for now and the future.


and as so is in the forfront of every thought, every decision, every movement, and me. i'll rock climb here soon enough, i'll go rafting next time around, i'll drink every person i know under the table after the breastfeeding is over. i'm going to be a mommy. a mommy. wow. i have these stoner moments all the time- my mind tripping, blowing, expanding at one single thought. flippin flip!!!
Here Ye, the perfect sandwhich was made yesterday. screw your reservations with eatzies, if i had bone bread i too would be rolling in the dough as well.
feb 14th is my second favorite holiday; doesn't matter if i'm single, heart broken, or married because when True Love gets inside of you...
there is something very unsettling about getting a voicemail from your doctors office moments after you left that same afternoon requesting you come back first thing monday morning for some tests, as requested by the doctor himself. i can't tell you how eager the paranoia in me becomes at such a rare occurance. within ten minuetes of hearing the message i had already begun imagining the Lifetime movie made about me and my struggle with the rare illness; the letters i will have to start writing to my unborn child explaining how even without It being born It has already become my greatest achievement; and then the cries Jon will have my family-everyone telling one another "She really loved you SOOOOO much."
a bright white world lies on the other side of my window; the fog has made it's way from the valley floor now up my side of the hill, it's a bizarre sight. blinding. i'm very aware this morning my days of lax are coming to an end here soon, on wednesday soon. from here to then i will try my best at utilizing every second of non-responsability i have left. of course, the house needs repaired and cleaned after this weekend. not that anything crazy happened here, we just, apart from me doing 90% of the dishes last night, chose not to clean up after ourselves from friday to last night. as if our mama was a maid. taking a quick look around the room i see my jacket tossed on the floor, my blow dryer and contacts next to the mirror, every single pair of jon's shoes by the front door, his pj pants dropped by the computer desk, an open bag of oreos lying on the counter, and so on and so forth. i wouldn't consider myself a clean freak, but that is an assumption drawn from a comparision to my sister, who is, the cleanest of them all. as children we had to share a room, which we split down the middle: her half and my half. her half was always spotless, tidy, categorized, dusted, and licked splickty clean. while my half was as i put it "i at least know where everything is"- words i now cringe at when my husband offers it as a defense for wanting to live out of non-organized plastic crates-but that was me then. somehow, in some mysterious way, in some ways, i think my sister and i have metamorphised into one another. i became prevy to this phenomen back when michelle was living in london. a friend of ours, who did traveling back and forth from dallas to england because of a band, had the oppurtunity to see the both of us on a 'on again/ off again' basis, and from that he was able to see michelle, an once shy and extremely introverted sort of girl, become outgoing and socially intrepid. while i on the other hand started to withdraw-experiencing for the first time in my life anxiousness in new social settings. his theory for this changeroo was sweet: that we, being soul-mates, without our other half, compensated in ourselves for our other half. whether that was the case or not, i do know it took me about a year after michelle had moved back to dallas to start to feel like the self i was before she moved away, though the anal retentiveness i picked up from her absence might be permanent. i guess you can say i tasted and saw, and i really bought into it. though i don't think i will ever make jon sit on the floor because i don't want wrinkles made on my bed spread. that one is a michelle special.
me: hey misty, long time. congratulations on the Survivor spot.
immaturity does crazy things with our heads, mine in particular. the naiveness of my youth had me believe that all one had to do to rid themself of something or someone unpleasant was to ignore it, to pretend it didn't exist, and/or to avoid dealing with it at all costs. which, in a conceptual sort of way works just fine; unfortunately, reality, as in this regard, deals in the definitive-laying waste to the idealism of relativity and subjectivity-demanding, by inevitability or a personal conviction to grow up, accountability and ownership despite the horrors it might, and probably will, entail. i know this now more than ever as of tonight when i began the dreadful search into my credit.



(ridiculously) bored 






