A Tapestry of Thought

I know I should totally be sleeping, and not writing. But my mind is a jumble of activity, and I cannot seem to slow it down tonight, so as a result, I found myself lying in bed, listening to my sweet husband breathe slowly in and out with the rhythm of sleep. I'd close my eyes, and listen to the gentle tumbling of the dryer, with it's last load of laundry drying, and the occasional clank of some unknown object in the mix. I'd listen to the traffic driving by, and wonder if the world ever slows down to a complete stop here, and remembering that I've been awake at almost every hour of the night at some point in the last five months, I realize that it doesn't. I'd listen, while the thoughts in my head raced around and chased one another in a game of cat and mouse, beckoning me to ponder and process each of them, while refusing to sit still long enough to allow some focus and clarity.

The mind is a terribly frightful and fascinating thing. The speed with which we can think and process amazes me, and the huge swath of things that the mind can cover in a fraction of a second amazes me. From things of the past, to dreams of the future, my mind puddle skips through everything, kissing the ocean of thought for such a brief moment that I wonder if the thought even occurred. The seemingly random order that the thoughts occur, along with the astonishingly strong connections that bind the thoughts get me thinking about how one thing can lead to something unexpected. So as I lie there, willing sleep upon myself, I try so hard to slow the flurry of words and images bursting before my eyes. Resigned, I give up, and throw off the covers. I gingerly walk through the house, past my sons room, where I peek in to see if he's still sleeping. Satisfied, I walk to the living room, turn on the computer, and squint as the monitor comes to life.

With my eyes adjusting, I open this page, and realize... I have nothing to type. The thoughts and feelings pulsing through my mind refuse to be caught and put into words. They pick up pace and scatter at such a speed, it's as if there is nothing. And suddenly, there is nothing. My mind becomes a blank canvas, with nothing but a blinking cursor. I ignore the blinding whiteness, and just begin to type. What I type does not matter so much as that I type. For a moment, the madness is at bay, and my mind is still. I know that when the typing stops, the thoughts will return, no matter the sleepiness I feel when typing, and I will once again find myself lying in bed, snuggled in the warmth of my husbands arms, listening.... to the sound of his gentle breath... to the sound of traffic... to the sound of the dryer finishing it's last load... to the sound of my own ears, pulsing with the noise of my thoughts banging around inside my head... and before long, the sound of sleep will envelop me, with my thoughts chasing themselves into my dreams where they weave their way through the stories and nightmares of my mind. And through that tapestry, they free themselves from the confines of simple words and images that flutter before my eyes just before sleep. A freedom that perhaps I'll remember, or perhaps will be lost, but nonetheless... a freedom that allows me to sleep... and dream.

Tongue Tied

So, the whole not being able to blog thing? Isn't just limited to the blogging world. It seems that I'm incompetent in conversations as well. Today I had lunch with a friend, and I sat there muttering and murmuring my way through lunch. I half expected my friend to throw her food at me and yell, "Get with it Corinne! Say something intelligent!! Talk about something other than babies and poop!" Thankfully, she's a lot nicer than that, and seemed to understand that I'm sleep deprived.

I wanted to tell her what I'm telling you, that it's not you... it's me. I can't really formulate quality sentences anymore. Where I used to be good at carrying on an intelligent conversation about books, movies, politics, etc.... now, I'm reduced to talking about my kid. Which, don't get me wrong, I love Shepherd, and love talking about him with anyone who will listen, but let's face it. I enjoy me a good conversation about something else from time to time.

I think the complicating factor in all of this is that I want to preserve the friendships that I have (including you, oh faithful reader). I'm pretty sure that most of my friends are on the same side of the political spectrum, but I'm always afraid that my big fat mouth will get me into trouble, that I'll say something they disagree with, and they won't want to be my friend anymore. So I play it safe... I talk about Shepherd! Do any of you struggle with this?

I sat there at lunch, trying to think of things to talk about, and I thought of a few, but not knowing if they were okay to talk about. I wanted to talk about how angry I am about this whole Israel/Lebanon thing, and how the other night, while watching BBC News, I broke down sobbing because there was this Lebanese baby who'd been hurt by a bomb crying, and I just got so very angry at what Israel is doing. I wanted to talk about the people I'd love to see run for president in '08, but because my time is so limited during the day, I don't know a whole lot about the people, and feel that people could run laps around me with what they know... or worse? they'd laugh at who I want in the office. I wanted to talk about how angry I am at quote un-quote "Christians" these days, that get all the press coverage... the people who perpetuate hate, not love... who preach and preach about the awful sins of a few people, and neglect to mention that we ALL, ALLLLLL are bad people.... that God loves ALL of us... not matter what color, sexual preference, religion, etc... he loves us all.

I wanted to talk about all of that, but I can't. I just freeze, and I'm terrified of opening up. It might be because I've been burned by friends in the past... it might be because this is the first time I'm making friends since breaking free of that fundamentalist group of friends I had in college, the friends who banded together, and didn't reach out beyond the confines of their religious preference. It's my first time in the "real" world trying to make a real friend... and it's hard to be vulnerable when you have no idea if the other person will respect you, or agree with you. It's easy in a group of friends who all believe the same thing... you know they agree with you... and when you don't? It's bye-bye friends.

How have you done it? Have you had to do this???? Does everyone go through these insecurities? The insecurities of making new friends??? Any advice???

Pbbbbbbbbbbbt

Well, Shepherd has officially figured out the raspberry. He's been doing it constantly for 2 days now. It's so cute... unless he's eating. Then he spits the food all over me. But still it's cute!

Anyways, I've opened the comments back up to everyone (sorry for that) and we'll see if that helped get rid of the Spammers.

I'm fresh out of blogging material, as I'm super-d-duper sleep-deprived. My wonderful sleeper has turned into a 3-4 time a night waker, and I'm not adjusting very well. Must be teeth (!?!?).

Gosh, this is boring... I know. I apologize. Maybe later tonight I'll try again? or tomorrow? Oh well... until then? Here's a picture of the little man.

And the Winner is....

Forrest, in tonight's game of Balderdash with his mother and step-father.

The word: Miryachit

His definition: A spanish word that literally mens "Look at my shit" that is used to describe the ostentacious yachts driven up the mexican coasts by rich gringos.

The laughing? Hasn't stopped.... it's way too late to be playing this game.

Royal Thrones

So, Shepherd is in his crib, and is supposed to be napping, but instead, is talking to the little animals that hang from his mobile. So this entry probably won't be long.

A quote from an e-mail I sent Forrest this morning:

"Anyways, I got the toilet seats (um, they're real toilet seats, not the cheap-o plastic crap ones that the apartment people would put in to replace the cheap-o ones we broke (we'll take them with us, I promise... HA! Take our toilet seats with us when we move, that's funny! and kinda gross)"

Yes, our toilet seats were broken. Broken? You say. Yes, broken. And not because we're really heavy and broke them like that, but because they are really crappy toilet seats (hmmm... there's probably a better way to say that without sounding like I never clean). So yeah... old seats out!

New seats in!!!



Am I weird to be excited about good, quality toilet seats???

5 months

Shepherd,

It is so, so, so hard to believe that today you turn 5 months old. It was just yesterday that someone asked me how old you were, and I said 4 months, and then thought to myself that you weren't really 4 months anymore... you were one day away from being 5 months old. Every other month, I have anticipated your turning another month older, and yet somehow, this month, it snuck up on me. Perhaps it's because you have gone through so much so fast this month. You started eating solids at the beginning of the month, and quickly got the hang of it, only to start teething and refuse solids all together.


And speaking of teething, you have two teeth now... and you've decided two isn't enough! You seem to have skipped getting any top teeth, and you have two more teeth coming in on the bottom. The teething issue has been really hard. You go from being a super happy baby, smiling and laughing one minute, to a very grumpy little boy, complete with screaming and big ol' fat tears the next. I've done everything I can to try to help with your little teeth, including sacrificing my index finger to the tiny little daggers inside your mouth just so you can chew on something that you want to chew on.


But when you're not teething, you are a very happy little boy. You love charming other people when we go out by smiling sweetly at them, and rewarding their attention with big gummy grins... actually, big gummy with 2 teeth grins.


You're getting so big, and growing so tall. Another milestone that you reached this month was sitting up unassisted. You'll sit up for long stretches at a time now without falling over. The other day, I timed you, and you sat there playing with your toys for 30 minutes before falling over. Amazing!


Also, you've decided you would rather stand up than sit up. You'd rather try to walk than try to crawl. You get rather frustrated while on your tummy, and the second I hold you so you're standing up, you look up at me and smile the biggest and brightest smile. All of this is happening so fast, that my head is spinning. You aren't my little tiny bundle of baby anymore, but you're a growing, active little boy.


I'm so excited to see you growing up, yet so scared at the same time. It seems like just yesterday you were so tiny. I know everyone tells you that "they grow up so fast!" but until you actually see it happen, you don't understand what they're talking about. I know this next month is going to be a busy and exciting one, because you? are so close to crawling, you're already pulling up from sitting to standing, and your babbling is becoming a bit more coherent and rhythmic. You're beginning to figure things out, like how your pacifier works, and how to pick up blocks and put them in your mouth (but you haven't figured out that everything doesn't fit in your mouth, like the TV stand, and you get very upset when you open your mouth and it won't fit, very cute!). You regularly recognize Daddy, and when he comes home, and you see him, you smile the biggest smile of the day. And even if you've been super grumpy right before he comes home, the minute he walks in, you turn on your charm, and you're super happy. Last night, we took a walk after dinner to the playground, where you got to sit in a big boy swing for the first time. It was so amazing to see you excited about it, and not scared. You just let us push you higher and higher, and the more we did it, the more you smiled. We did that until you fell asleep.



Shepherd, I wish that I could tell you how much I love you, but words will not allow me to. You are my very special little man, and I can't believe how fast you're growing up. I always forget that I can't go back and re-visit these days, that once the day is done, it is done. So I'm trying my hardest to enjoy each day.


I love you little man....Happy 5 months!

Love,
Mommy

Duuuuuuuuude....

Y'all?






I am so not ready for this....

I mean, I knew he was pulling up some, and that he'll stand if you hold his hands, but if you prop him so he can hold something? He stands.

He STANNNNDDDS!!!!!!

Of course, he also falls... but he stands... *faint*

Pool Time

Okay, seriously? Could the guys hanging out around the outside of the pool fence staring in get ANY creepier? And the lifeguard? Could he be any grosser with that too tight speedo he's wearing? And when they have "kids out", that doesn't mean for all the kids to get out and run over to the baby pool to play. It's called a BABY POOL for a reason. Seriously, y'all, come'on!! You're 10 years old, surely by now you can wait 15 minutes for them to let you back in? If not, at least don't run and do a quasi-cannonball in the baby pool while there are babies in it!!!!!

*sigh*

The Choice at Hand

There are so many things I want to write about, yet it is so hard to sit and take the time to put them all down into words. I think that's why I'm a much better talker than writer, because I can get so much more out by talking than by writing. Yes, it is healing and therapeutic at times to write things out, but most of the time? I prefer to talk them out. I'm so grateful for my wonderful husband, who, night after night, listens to me blab on and on about random things, who listens to me work through my crap (I have to talk things out, I cannot simply process them in my mind and be done with it). I am so thankful for family who listens to me drone on and on about the latest developments with Shepherd, with me, or other things that I feel are important. If I typed what I actually talk about, you wouldn't have the time to sit and read through all of it... so in a way, it's kind of hard for me to write... I have to pick something, anything, and write about it. Anyways....

I've been reading a lot lately about loving your body for what it is. There are so many bloggers talking about this site(warning, there is some nudity), and publishing pictures of themselves post partum. Don't worry, I'm not feeling that brave yet, but it has been truly inspiring. I sat there while looking at Shape of a Mother and was flabbergasted that these women would post such vulnerable photos of their post-partum bodies. Flabbergasted, and relieved all at once. I scrolled through all of the photos, and poured over them over and over again, identifying myself in the pictures, and breathing a sigh of relief that I am not the ONLY WOMAN in history to have horrible stretch marks that refuse to go away. It was as if I was suddenly initiated into this band of mothers who love their bodies and celebrate the "battle wounds" of motherhood.

I have talked before about my struggle with weight, and my struggle with my body image, but many of you probably are unaware of how serious this struggle is with me. My husband knows, because night after night, I pour my heart out to him, wanting to be beautiful, and his words, "But you are beautiful!" fall on deaf ears. I know that he loves me no matter what... yet I struggle because I want him to really, really, REALLY love me, the physical me. And where he probably loves that part of me anyways, it's hard for me to believe it because so often, I don't even love myself. I am incredibly hard on myself, and every time I stand in front of the mirror, I wince. I spend countless moments wishing I looked more like other mothers I know, and when I hear them complain of pouchy bellies, I want to scream because I compare myself to them, and to me? They have perfect bodies.

What I'm slowly beginning to realize is that we all hate our bodies. We all feel the same way about our bodies, and no matter how beautiful we truly are, somehow we don't get it. I know, I know, this has been talked about beyond the point of beating a dead horse, yet I have never "gotten" it. No matter what my body shape, no matter how beautiful I am, if I cannot love me for me, if I cannot love who I am, then I will always compare myself to others, and I will always be disappointed.

God, I wish it was as easy as just saying that to truly believe it. I know that as soon as I finish typing this, I'll walk back to my room, and walk by the mirror, where I must decide. Do I do what I do every night, and rip my image to pieces until there is nothing redeemable about what I see? or must I find some good in the woman in the mirror, even if it only exists within the shell that I see? That, my friends, is the true challenge.

The Rush

(Note: This was the second part to the next entry, I just didn't want one HUGE LONG entry, so I divided it into two)

It's been well discussed that my attention span is the length of a kindergartener, and I have very little discipline. I hate, loath, and despise doing anything that I simply don't want to do. Exercise falls in that category of things I hate, loath, and despise. I simply do not enjoy getting sweaty. I don't enjoy hurting the next day. I just simply hate exercise. Funny, though, you kind of need to exercise to stay healthy and fit, right? Or else your body sags (check!), you get winded going up stairs (check!), and you stay tired and unfocused (check!). So, Forrest and I were talking about how I need (well, WE need.. but he's Superman, and has no problem making himself do things he hates to do) to exercise more. I knew that in order for me to make it routine, I'd have to have some incentive... why? Okay, here's my theory. Forrest says that his incentive is the good feeling of being fit... he has known fitness, and has achieved it before, so therefore, he knows how good it feels. I on the other hand, have never been fit. I have never known fitness, therefore, never known the "rush" that exercise can bring. Therefore, I don't see the payoff of getting out there and sweating. So we decided that if I worked out 3 times a week (equating to 30 minutes of walking on the treadmill) for 2 weeks, I could buy any CD I wanted (and trust me, on a limited budget, this is a good deal). After 4 consecutive weeks, I get a pedicure (holy crap do I need one!). Beyond that, we'll see. Anyways, my point was this... I had to have something to get me started.

Well... this week? I successfully completed 3 days of walking 30 minutes or more. And let me tell you, I experienced something I rarely experience. I was PROUD of myself. When that last 30 minutes was up, I sat there, and looked at the timer on the treadmill, and realized that I'd completed my first FULL week of exercise. I survived! I'm not dead! I didn't melt into a puddle on the ground afterwards! I can do this!!! And y'all?

I got a rush.

It was so cool, stepping off of that treadmill, knowing that I'd completed something that I didn't want to do. Knowing that what I was doing was helping me not only lose weight, but become healthier. And that made me SO happy! I am proud of me. I have accomplished something that I didn't think I would. And hopefully? I can do it again this week! No... I WILL DO IT!!!!!! CD or not, I have tasted a bit of the rush, and I want more. I want to be proud of myself. I want to be healthy. I want this, I really do!!!

Best.Picture.EVAH!!!!!!!!!

Seriously... that has to be the sweetest picture of Shepherd ever... almost sweet enough to forget that the rest of the day, no wait, make that the rest of this week, he was like this:



Like I said...... almost.

Man, my child's going to have to go to therapy because I sit there and take pictures of my son while he's crying... *sigh* But yeah, there are some teeth lurking behind the gums, somewhere, that are turning my child into a holy terror, complete with high pitched screams and all. Also? Frozen Bananas? great idea, and silence the madness temporarily, that is, until they melt and dissolve into goo in his mouth. Oh well... back to the madness!!!

Sorry

Hey guys,

I apologize, but I've had to change it so that only registered users can comment on my site because someone has figured out how to get through the word verification on this site, and has been loading up my archives with spam. Don't worry, you can register very easily, and don't have to create a blog! Again, sorry for the inconvenience!!!

Snuggle Bug

Shepherd,
Last night, as mommy and daddy went to bed, we snuck in your room and peeked at you sleeping. We do this almost every night, but last night, you were stretched out on your belly with your arms tucked underneath you. For some reason it struck me as incredibly adorable. I wanted to pick you up and snuggle with you, but knew that doing so would wake you up. So, for my sanity, I let you be. Around 4:45am, you woke up ready to eat, so I went in your room, picked you up, and we sat in the rocking chair while you nursed. I held you close, and leaned over to kiss your head, and breathed in your smell. We sat there in the dark, and I held you close, and I wanted to remember that moment forever. A moment where it was just you and me, in the dark of your bedroom... a moment filled with tenderness and love. I started rocking gently, and your nursing slowed down, until exhausted and content, you let go and fell back into my arms asleep. I watched you for a moment, with your beautiful skin almost glowing in the moonlit room, and I was overwhelmed. I couldn't love you enough, I guess what I mean is that I couldn't show you how much love my heart has for you. So I gently lifted you to rest your head on my shoulder to make sure you didn't have to burp. As I did, you nuzzled your face into my neck, and we just sat there, rocking gently. And that moment was beautiful. So beautiful, that I could not put you back in your crib alone. So I walked back to our bedroom, and laid you between daddy and me, and the three of us snuggled until daddy had to leave for work. Shepherd, I hope you always know how much mommy and daddy love you. I know there will be times when we're angry, or frustrated... there will be times that are really hard... and during those times, I want ro remember last night, snuggling close, and I want to remember all of the love in that moment. I love you little man....SO much!!!

Love,
Momma

Copius amounts of Cuteness (consider yourself warned)

My two bottom teef
Me and my gal pal Mia... she's a hottie!
Boo!
Sleepyhead
Me and my friend Tigger
Yummy giraffe
Lil' Forrest

The Weekend Recap

This past weekend, we went to NC for a wedding. I am always surprised when I go back down south by how different things are there. There is something in the air that makes the south feel like home, and I can't exactly explain it. I know I'm not the only one who thinks this, as Forrest always says the same thing once we cross the VA/NC line. Maybe it's that it is so familiar, that this place feels like home because it was home for us for a long time. We drove down Friday afternoon, and stayed with my parents. They attended a play that night and weren't home until late, so Forrest and I gathered up some old family videos, and watched me as a little girl. I was incredibly bossy, and add to that a Spaz, so it was quite funny watching it and remembering. We went to bed late, and woke up early to drive down to see Forrest's family for the day. We had a good visit, and surprisingly, I didn't find myself clinging to the ceiling like a cat. It was neat to see Forrest's dad interact with Shepherd and to see the rest of the family. 4 generations

The wedding was beautiful. It was held outdoors at a living museum at part of their "back country farm", and they had wonderful weather for the wedding...it was beautiful!
Notice the sheep have bows on their necks.. how cute!
The Bride and her father
The bride and groom

Following the wedding, we had the reception in the museum lobby, complete with tyronosaurus rex skeleton and all... it was really neat to see how they'd set it up...

Stephen and Shepherd... and ladies? He IS single... any takers?
Great-Grandma Polly and Shepherd
My handsome husband... ain't he sexy?!
I always ruin good pictures of myself...

All in all, it was a good day... then we drove home late that night, and slept late Sunday morning at my parents... We went to church with mom and dad, and after church had lunch. Then as we were pulling out of the driveway... my car broke. I was rolling up the window, and next thing I knew, the window was all crooked, and not sticking out right... we tried to put it back, and when we did, the glass just dropped down in the door, refusing to come back up... So... we had to leave our car there, and get it fixed, and take my mom's car back. Thankfully it broke there, where we know some good mechanics who didn't charge us as much as they could have... but still, $750 later, it still sucks to have to get it fixed. Oh well...

So, we're back, trying to get in the swing of things here... yesterday I had lunch with Beth and the fantabulous Mia (pictures of that coming soon!). And today, Shepherd and I are venturing to the pool!!! So check back tomorrow for more pictures and I'll tell you some about vacation (what I can remember now that it was two weeks ago!!!)

Update

I realize it's been forever since I updated... part of that is due to the fact that we were out of town again this past weekend for a wedding in NC. Also part of the fact is that Shepherd has been an incredibly grumpy, Grumpy Gus, demanding that I hold him or entertain him or else he will summon demons from the depths with his piercing screams and cries. You try blogging when demons are being summoned.

Anyways, so I have a brief window here to type, as Shepherd is being entertained by the excersaucer. The only way this is making him happy is that I'm a terrible mother, and gave him a bath a second ago. Now, why the bath when I know he'll hate me? It was absolutely necessary. And no... not in the "I want my child to look his best for his little friend today for lunch" kind of clean. More like the "running from the room in sheer horror while I hold my son out from my body as Mt. Vesuvius errupts from his diaper" kind of clean. Y'all, the horror of this incident was astounding. Try as I may to clean my son up, it resulted in poop on me, poop on the cleaning table, poop in Shepherd's hair, poop every where... and left me gagging... yes... gagging, trying to clean it up. So yeah, that's why he had a bath when he's super grumpy. So now? The excersaucer doesn't look too bad to him, so he's happy for at least another 3.4 minutes.

As soon as I locate my camera cord, I'll upload some pictures from the weekend, and maybe tonight I'll get a chance to actually blog about something other than poop. And maybe show you a picture of the TWO TEETH my son has.... *ensue the mad screaming as we run in circles* The two teeth that he decided last night belonged firmly in the bosom of his mother, and left me howling from pain. Not good nursing behavior. Anyways... I'd better go... the demons are being summoned again....

Moms Don't get Sick Leave

Y'all, nothing says welcome home from vacation than a bad case of the flu (or something like it... bad cold, achy body, flat out misery). I have so much to write about from our vacation, yet so little energy to use. So, today? Laziness in the form of cute pictures of my son!!!!

Sho' Fly and Jubba the Cat

Shepherd and my Grandmother
Originally uploaded by meandscreech.

Before we left for our vacation, we attended my cousin's wedding. My little cousin, who I played in the hay barns with when we were little. The one who always talked loud because of his hearing loss, and I likewise, because of mine. We understood one another, to a point, and always would pal up and play together on the farm. Whether we were sliding down hay bales, exploring the creeks on the farm, putting on plays for our family, climbing trees, swinging on tire swings, or just being silly, the three of us (Justin, Paul, and I) were inseperable. It was such a joy to see him all grown up and getting married. I was so proud to see him up there. But before the wedding, we made a stop. A much needed visit to someone I love dearly, but who hardly remembers me.

My grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimers several years ago. She was fortunate enough to be diagnosed relatively early, and was able to delay the disease some. She was able to live at home for a long time, thanks to a live-in helper, until last year, when it was necessary to put her in a nursing home. My grandmother has been confused for years now, asking questions over again, and not remembering little things. But she always remembered me. It wasn't until recently that she began to forget who we were, or at least feigned recognition to be polite. It's been a hard road, as she is my only biological grandmother left. I wanted more than anything to tell her about my pregnancy, about the birth of my child, about everything, but she couldn't hardly process that I was married, yet alone pregnant. The last time I went to visit her, she eyed my 8 month pregnant belly, and eyed me suspiciously, as if she was trying to understand how I was pregnant and unmarried (remember, she doesn't always remember that I am in fact, married). After the baby was born, I wanted to visit her, but timing was never good. The nursing home had to be quarintined because of some virus spreading around. Finally, they got it under control and last weekend we were able to stop by to see her. I walked in the room, and before anyone prompted her, she smiled at me, and said, "Hi Corinne!" in the usual way she would have greeted me. Angels singing couldn't have sounded better than the sound of my name rolling off of her lips. I had Shepherd with me, and after some small talk, I handed him off to her for her to hold him. She just stared at him, admiring his head full of hair, and kept talking about how beautiful his hair was. In those few moments, I watched them, and my heart ached. I wondered if she would remember Shepherd after we left... I wondered if Shepherd would ever know my grandmother. I know that he'll never know the fun loving woman that I knew growing up. He'll never hear her silly songs that she sang. All he will ever know are the pictures that we took of him, as an infant, sitting on his great-grandmother's lap. And at that moment, my heart was heavy. I was joyful for the moment, yet I mourned for the future. I was grateful for the time that we were given to see my grandmother, to talk with her, to laugh with her. I was overjoyed that she remembered me, that she held my son, and that for a moment, she loved him, and knew him. I don't know where the mind goes, but I have to hope that somewhere in the depths of her heart, she knows Shepherd, and loves him, just as I hope that she knows me and loves me still. I was filled with happiness, when she sang some of her silly songs, at times confusing the words, and not exactly making sense, but still singing, smiling, and trying to bounce her knee with Shepherd sitting there... and it was then that I knew that she knows... that she remembers... and even if she can never recall my name again, and if she can't recall that I have a son, for one brief moment in time, she knew... and that has to be enough.

Breakin' it Down

My brother Justin getting a little crazy at the wedding...

Boot Scoot Bedtime

While at my cousin's wedding, there was dancing... line dancing to be exact. And it was so much fun... enough fun to wear Shepherd slap out, and he fell asleep dancing to the boot scoot boogie!!!

Magical Teething Tablets*

So, several of you are wondering what these wonderful things are that I'm using with my son. I can't claim that they will work with everyone, but they worked for us... Hyland's Teething Tablets. I found them at K-mart (quite by accident I might add). We don't dissolve them in water, just put them under the babies tongue, and within a few seconds, they're dissolved (they are very, very tiny tablets, so no need to worry about choking). Tylenol also works wonders, so I tend to alternate uses... and that seems to work.

Anyways, I'm hoping to get some stories up about our week at the beach, it's just that things have been crazy around here. So check back later today for an update.

She told me so

Toof
Originally uploaded by meandscreech.

Several weeks ago, Beth came over for lunch. I was telling her about the latest thing with Shepherd putting everything in his mouth and drooling a lot. She said "teething" with an evil grin on her face that said, "I know the hell you're about to go through". I shrugged it off, saying it couldn't possibly be teething as my son at that point was only 3 1/2 months old. No way was he close to teething. Then, while on vacation, the tooth emmerged. It started while we were on our way to NC after our cousin's wedding, and Shepherd nearly screamed the whole way. I finally gave him some Tylenol thinking maybe, just maybe, it really was a tooth. He promptly passed out from the sheer relief that the pain! had stopped. So, I felt his gums that night, and low and behold, a bulge. So we kept him on Tylenol as regular as possible, and that seemed to help... then added some homeopathic teething tablets when I got worried we were giving the child too many drugs. Those tablets?! A total God-send. Then, two days later... a tooth emerged. Who knew that baby teeth are razor sharp??? and that babies bite when nursing after getting a tooth??? Oh well... so, we officially have a tooth... and after many, many attempts at documenting evidence of said tooth, we finally got some good ones... and proof that indeed, Beth was right... He was teething all along,,,,