Sunday, April 4, 2010
A Man on the Move!
Hendrix has been a busy man lately...nope still not walking. He now has learned how to climb up slides, and how to skateboard. Who needs to walk when you've got a set of wheels? Have fun watching these:
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Tada!
Hendrix does something new every day, and never ceases to amaze me, but Thursday was above and beyond. In one day, he signed 3 new words: dad, mom, and grandma. My mom was the first one to notice that he was signing "grandma" and as we started paying more attention, we figured out the other 2 new words he was signing. We seriously have a baby genius on our hands here;.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Only a Mother can Understand
Stolen from a friend...you truly cannot understand until you become a mother.
"I was sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of "starting a family." "We're taking a survey," she says half-joking."Do you think I should have a baby?" "It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral."I know," she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations"
But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes.
I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable.
I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking, "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her.
That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die.
I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a moments hesitation.
I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood.
She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right.
I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom.
However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother.
Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself.
That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give herself up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years, not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish his or hers.
I want her to know that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor.
My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would not now find very romantic.
I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice, and drunk driving. prejudice, and drunk driving.
I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike.
I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time.
I want her to taste the joy that is so real it actually hurts.
My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it," I finally say. Then I reached across the table, squeezed my daughter's hand and offered a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings.
"I was sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of "starting a family." "We're taking a survey," she says half-joking."Do you think I should have a baby?" "It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral."I know," she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations"
But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes.
I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable.
I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking, "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her.
That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die.
I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a moments hesitation.
I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood.
She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right.
I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom.
However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother.
Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself.
That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give herself up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years, not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish his or hers.
I want her to know that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor.
My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would not now find very romantic.
I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice, and drunk driving. prejudice, and drunk driving.
I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike.
I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time.
I want her to taste the joy that is so real it actually hurts.
My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it," I finally say. Then I reached across the table, squeezed my daughter's hand and offered a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Good Day-Sunshine!
Yesterday was an incredibly beautiful day! We had very warm weather that made my soul smile. There's just something about feeling the sun shining down and warming your body that really does your heart good. I knew that they way our crazy Texas weather has been lately that I should take advantage of the sun, because who knows when we may see it again. Hendrix LOVES to be outside, so I grabbed our play blanket and outside we went. He was much smaller the last time we were able to get out and play in the backyard, and I was actually surprised he stayed on the blanket. Here is Hendrix this past September enjoying himself in our backyard. I can't believe how much he has grown. Look at him now.
My sweet boy is so happy when he is outside:
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Just Between Friends Sale
Twice a year Fort Worth has an AMAZING consignment sale called Just Between Friends. It could possibly be the highlight of my shopping year. This is the third time that I have been to this sale, the first time being the day after we found out that we were having a boy. I can't tell you all the amazing deals I have found at this sale, so instead I will show you my loot from this sale!
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Ear Infection Day 2
Hendrix is feeling much better today, but not because of the meds. Oh and my carpet's ear infection is clearing up nicely! Can't say the same for the pink stain.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Worse than Teething
So after a day and a half of a very lethargic baby with a fever, I decided it was time to make a trip to our pediatrician. It turns out that Hendrix has his first ear infection, double ear infection actually. Dr. Phillips couldn't believe he wasn't in more pain for how bad one ear was. We now have antibiotics, but I've yet to get more than a few drops down him, and I still end up wearing most of it. Don't get me wrong I like the color pink, I would just prefer it not be raspberried onto me. Praying for a quick recovery, and more medicine down him than on me.
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