10-6-2008 - My Day

My mood while writing this blog: nostalgic

I am sitting here on my couch and the time is 9:27pm. I have milk stains on my pants, droll spots on my shirt, and cake shoved under my finger nails. I am tired, my hair is a mess, and I should be in bed. But I can’t help but feel the need to reminisce about today.

I started my day at 7:30am, after being up 3 times through the night with a teething baby. I made breakfast for everyone, and played “choo-choos” with Godzilla himself! I tucked in my husband for a nap since he worked all night, and the baby too. I time reading with a two year old that has the attention span of a cocker spaniel puppy, but the desire to learn of an honor student at Harvard. Once nap time was over, it was time to get out of my beloved pajamas, brush my hair, and put on some deodorant; time to leave the house.

I had special errands to run today. My “baby” as referred to earlier, is ONE whole year old today. So it’s that wonderful time that I get to pick out a cake that I am going to spend too much money on, and let him trash it and make a total mess of my kitchen.

Little known fact; the commissary on Davis Monthan AFB doesn’t carry small cakes. They are special order only. That’s what the redneck behind the counter told me anyways, and proceeded to tell me that I should have pre-ordered his cake since I KNEW when his birthday was. *Head-slap* Great. So I pick up a frozen pizza for lunch to spare me time in between my appointment (oh yea, I had that to do too) and having to stop at Wal-Mart to pick up a cake for my sons flipping first birthday. I already spent half the morning in la-la land wondering if not special ordering his cake makes me a bad person, and if not having a party made me a horrible mom. And if he feels like he is being forgotten since he is the second child and soon to be middle child.

Whatever, I’m sure he will be fine, that’s not the point. The point is cake. All I need is a cheap, small cake for my one year old to wreck. That’s it. Simple right… WRONG! Great news; Wal-mart does carry cakes. They are the perfect size. But are going to cost me an arm and a leg (not to mention my ever expanding belly). But if I don’t get one, what kind of mom am I, right? Right. So off I go, with my cake and my milk, and my… Oh crap, what did I forget? I proceed to wander around Wal-Mart for 10 more minutes trying to remember what it was that my husband shouted out to me in the car to pick up as I was leaving. Diet Coke. It is nearly impossible to forget such an item given who I’m married to, but none the less, I got the diet coke. So off I am. Homebound.

Finally, at 5:00pm my husband announces to me that it is time to do the cake. For my baby to pass into big boyhood, and dig into his cake. *sighs* How could this time be here already? It feels like just yesterday I was pregnant with him, and feeling him move, and day dreaming about how I couldn’t wait to meet him. And how I would talk to my belly and promise that I would always protect him. Can I really always protect him? The last year of his life has flown by, and I can’t image how many more are going to also.

And so, at 5:10pm, the exact time that my Dexter Grant was born one year ago today, I sat with a camera up to my face, blocking the tears welling in my eyes, singing “Happy Birthday” to my baby. Remembering that evening one year ago today, that I lay there starring at the ceiling of the frigid operating room, praying that the Doctors made the right choice to take him when they did. And they did. He was, and still is absolutely perfect.

And to my surprise, my big boy took his first real steps tonight also. Just as his daddy was heading up to bed, he stood up on his own, and started walking across the room. My screaming startled him and he sat back down but sure enough when daddy came back he did it again.

Tonight my baby became a big boy in so many ways, and while it is a relief to know that I have once again successfully gotten another child through his first year of life, it’s also sad for me. It is only a matter of time before he is wiping my kisses off his cheeks and telling me I am embarrassing him. I can’t wait for that either…

Who knows, maybe I’ll blog about it.