"When a great adventure is offered, you do not refuse it." Amelia Earhart

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Trust Me?

Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop: Prompt 2

Sure, we have all done some pretty terrible things when we were young. But for this, I am most ashamed...

A game of trust we did ensue.
My little sister begged me to.
I taught her how this game was played
Crossed my arms and fell away.
I was caught in her small embrace
A proud smile spread across her face.

Next she stood, her back to me
Crossing arms nervously.
She leaned back an inch or two
Before she took a step -- oh poo!
Attempt number two went this way as well.
As did three, four, five, and twelve.

Why wouldn't she trust ME, her big sister?
I was always the one who was there for her!
She was the one who was never afraid.
But in falling backwards, a wuss she was made.
We stood there for fifteen minutes or so
While she kept on trying, but refused to let go.

By this time my patience was worn paper thin,
Thinking this game she just couldn't win.
"That's it!" I exclaimed. "You had your chance."
"Just one more time!" she cried with a dance.
I rolled my eyes and said, "This is it!"
"I'll do it, I promise!" She just wouldn't quit...

She crossed her arms and got herself set
And what came next I still try to forget.
My teenager 'tude now set in high gear,
Thinking again she'd submit to her fear.
I took a step back as she started to fall
Thinking I'd teach her once and for all.

It struck me too late that this was for real
As her body tipped back from her little heel.
I lunged forward fast but not quickly enough.
And there she was trusting me -- not just a bluff!
I know she forgives me, but still to this day
"I've got your back!" : four words I can't say.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Small Talk Six: My Moon, My (Little) Man

6 Ways We Spoil the Center of Our Universe:

1. Snacks: I resisted this one for a long time, but the grandparents won and he now gets more than I would like of graham crackers, ice cream, and Nilla Wafers. And even I can't help but to indulge him occasionally.

2. Cooking special for him.

3. Getting special gifts from EVERYONE. Toys, swim gear, toys, clothes,toys, shoes. Actually, I rarely spoil him in this department because all of the aunties have it pretty well covered to the point where he's probably going to start to expect some cool threads everytime they come to visit (even if they just saw him the week before).

4. Constant attention, adoration, and applause at every little thing he does. All he has to do is flash those big blues and we all go crazy.

* * Have you figured out yet that not only is he our first child, but the first grandchild/nephew on both sides? So, yeah, he is the man and knows it.

5. Watching TV. Sometimes when he's reached that over-tired walking around and throwing tantrums for no other reason than he won't give up part of his day to nap, the only thing that will settle him down is Handy Manny or Sesame Street. And sometimes I need 10 minutes to wash dishes/cook without him clinging to my leg.

6. Alright, here it goes -- the worst way I in which I spoil him that will surely be haunting me months from now: putting him to bed by bringing him to bed with me and transfering him to his once he is out. He refuses to go to sleep on his own. Letting him tire himself out crying? Lasts HOURS. Really. So, when he got too big to rock to sleep I started this bad little habit. Truth be told, it's one of my favorite times of day. How much longer will we snuggle and sing until he sweetly drifts away? Every day he grows more and more independent of me, except for this precious time. I know I need to stop this soon, but I want to be selfish for a little while longer.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

See you in another life, Rocket buddy

It is with a heavy heart I write this post. One of my best and most faithful friends passed on to his next grand adventure this past Monday.

About a month ago my husband and I took Rocket in to the vet because he had injured his leg, as he was limping and it was getting swollen. We were told that his leg had broken due to osteosarcoma and he would probably have very little time left with us unless we amputated his leg and put him through chemo. Our vet was amazed at how stoic, resilient, and happy he seemed. She said most people opt to put their dogs down by this point because of the pain and he would be a good candidate for amputation (for many reasons, especially his age, we decided against it). We had never heard Rocket so much as wimper. We were devastated.

We cried. We prayed. We laughed about his crazy puppy days. We gave him his favorite comforts: stuffed toys and belly rubs. And ice cream. A lot of ice cream.

Rocket was truly a special dog, and I know how cliche that sounds, but he really was -- just ask anyone who knew and loved him. Or ask anyone who was marked, mounted, or mesmerized by him.

103 pounds of muscle and grace. A stature that humbled the toughest of men (many salesmen we watched stop dead in their tracks midway up our driveway and turn right back around at a glimpse) juxtaposed by huge smiling eyes and a gentle spirit that invited and delighted in the loving embraces from the tiniest of tots.

Sure, he looked pretty menacing but really he was just a big ole love puppy and a clown. We never had to worry about him running away, because he was happy just to be by my husband's side. The fence around our yard wasn't put there to keep him in, but to keep our neighbor's little yapping instigator out (and to keep our more independent free-spirited Evy in). In fact, the only times he ran away were in search of my husband. When we were honeymooning, a good friend of ours chased Rocket not only through the neighborhood, but also through a few startled neighbor's houses. And he made himself right at home wherever he went!

I have so many great Rocket stories, I can't even get started right now. The Rocket Dog Chronicles coming soon...

I just feel so blessed to have had such a wonderful dog. I am thankful that he is no longer in pain and smile when I think of him laughing and dancing in open fields with Grandpa.

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Gwibble Gwee-bee!

May I just say how much I adore my little man's nonsensical mumblings and musings? Every day now it seems he tries to speak more and more. Mostly it's just baby garblings, like his favorite, "Gwibble gwee-bee?" But every once in awhile he'll come out with something new and spurt it out with such clarity. After a raised eyebrow, asking the Dad Man if it wasn't only my eager imagination, I get all excited and have been known to literally leap up and go into a clapping frenzy. Only problem is he'll say one word or phrase perfectly once and then - poof! That's it! Oh, how he loves to tease his mama!

I've heard him say "green," "hi," "bye," "here you go," "there," "catch," "dog," "ball," "where'd it go?" and a few other things when he's in the mood for some applause.

The all-knowing mamas out there all insist that I need to enjoy these question-free days while they last. I just can't wait to hear what's going on in that over-active ever-expanding brain, though! This is especially true when he studies something carefully and then peers up at me with up-turned palms and wide eyes with a "Goo mumph-a-wee?" and then shakes his head in disgust when my best answer just doesn't cut it.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Hello, Jim Cantore!

Today is June 1st -- which to most people means the beginning of summer after a beautiful long Memorial Day weekend. However to those of us in FL, along the coastlines of the Gulf and the Southeast, Central America, parts of Mexico, and the Carribean, it means: Welcome, hurricane season!

In the Sunshine State, we were blessed to have a very, very quiet storm season last year. Thank the Lord! I was a nervous wreck last year with a newborn thinking of potential evacuation plans, having enough food, baby supplies, water, gas, cash and the million other things we worry about as soon as a storm becomes personified as "Annie" or "Billy Bob."

I clearly remember a fast approaching thunderstorm that snuck up on me last April as I was nursing Dozer during his second week with us. I was racing round the house, Dozer snuggled on the carefully held Boppy, suckling away, unaware of my frantic window-closing state. I was sure that a tornado was about to rip out of the heavens and tear through our humble home. That was when I realized I could not even look at some rain and thunder the same way ever again (or a least not for another 15-18 years or so).

Well, we made it through our first hurricane season without even a scratch. In previous years, we had not been quite as fortunate, though never more damage than we could handle. (Pictures of Tropical Storm Fay and Hurricane Frances will be up for Wordless Wednesday). So, here we are today and already a tropical storm has hit the country of Guatemala before the official start of the season. Oy vey! Did you see the size of that "hole" in the ground???!!!

I guess it's something wherever you live. Blizzards, earthquakes, tsunamis, fires, mudslides, tornadoes. I am very thankful we get fair warning with hurricanes.