Project Sibling


The Universe has conspired to make me sit down and write.  It is O’s nap time.  The hinges I bought off of Amazon for the bathroom cabinets don’t fit properly….so there will be no replacing them instead of writing.  I was going to start to paint the walls of the master bath, but I now have to clean and paint the baseboard heating covers and don’t have the right high heat paint to tackle the task.  I can’t  just leave my sleeping angel in the house while I run to Lowes….so I’ll have to go later. Perfect window of time to write.  The fact is that I am faced with a blog that is due tomorrow, but I’d rather eat potato chips.  Or bacon cheese flavored popcorn.  Any yummy tasty savory item from the Trader Joes snack aisle will do.  I want to mindlessly crunch away like a teenager.  I find it a satisfying way to avoid the task at hand.  Maybe one more handful before I decide whether to spill or zip it.

Alas, I am writing the piece.  After two bowls of crunchy goodness (boy, that’s an oxymoron), I am hitting the keys.  I am tentative about sharing this week’s tidbit.  Part of me feels like if I share it that I am somehow accountable if things don’t work out.  But a bigger part of me knows that there are women just like me who are contemplating  the same thing.  Ok, ok, enough with the lead in…I’m talking about having another baby.  Everyone has there own opinion on the subject.  A lot of women my age are done after having one.  Why push it, right? I see their point.

It takes me back to when I was 39 weeks pregnant with O and I had an exam with an older male doctor I had never been seen by before.  This practice in Florida was odd.  You could request a specific Doctor for appointments, but when you actually went into labor, you got whoever was on call.  So they urged you to familiarize yourself with as many physicians in the practice as possible.  And there were a lot.  Oye! I digress.  Anyway, on this particular day I opted to see Dr. Collins a.k.a. Crabby Pants.  I remember him telling me while discussing the labor,”Well, at your age, you don’t want to mess this up….I mean, it’s one and done for you.”  I remember feeling like I was slapped in the face.  I told another physician what he had said and she just shook her head.  Tossed it up to him being ready to retire.  But it does make you think.  At least he made me think.

Well, after a bit of a touch and go medical issue, my doctor up here in New England told me there is no reason we shouldn’t try.  I’m fit and I’ve got the blood pressure of a teenager, hence the teenager snack attacks.  By all snack accounts I should be over weight, but as my luck would have it, I’m as slim as I was when I was a vegetarian and really watched everything I ate.  (Completely unfair, I know).  So according to my lovely Dr., we have the all clear to jump to it.  I would prefer to say like rabbits…but apparently it’s more of an every other day thing.  You don’t want to exhaust the sperm.  Who knew? I assumed the more sex the better.  There will be no hormones or fertility drugs involved.  It’s Au Naturale for us.

So, here’s to trying.  Really trying.  And if it doesn’t happen, then Frieda, my friend and psychic, was right.  It won’t be meant to be.  And in the mean time, me and my young husband can have a lot of fun.  Either way it will all turn out the way it is supposed to.  I have been so blessed already, it seems greedy of me to want another.  If you asked me a year ago if I would want another, my answer would not have been  the same.  I have evolved into a really good mom. I’m so happy to be right where I am.  So happy to share raising or child with my husband.  It’s more happiness than I ever knew was possible.   So I am making a promise to myself right here and now, in front of all of you.  I will not be upset if we don’t get pregnant.  I won’t let it shade the abundant sunshine we live in.  I truly believe in things happening the way they are supposed to.  My entire life is a testament to just that.  So we will give it a go.  Here’s to Project Sibling! Lol!

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight.  I know what I’ll be doing.  And remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is messing it up.  Xo


Sick Baby Silly Mommy


This week there has been no jam making or furniture staining.  No re-upholstering, no sanding woodwork, no projects period.  Everything is in a holding pattern. Little O is sick.  He has a high fever.   Red throat. Sick look in his eyes.  Yes, my little bub is sick.

It is really the first time he’s been sick.  He had a cold once at around 5 months old and he has been teething since before his first tooth at 4 months….but he’s never really been this sick. You know, for days.  I don’t like it.  What makes it even worse is that he can’t tell me what feels bad.  At 15 months old he is just stuck feeling horrible, wondering why.  It’s our job to guess and assess.  Not easy, is it parents? It’s just the worst.

I say “it’s the worst,” but in truth, we have had it quite easy and have been very blessed.  We have a healthy little boy who happens to be sick right now.  But it makes me think about the parents who have children who are REALLY sick.  Who were born with an illness. Who spend days at a time, even months, in a hospital.  I can’t imagine the level of worry those parents must endure.  It is unfathomable to me.  I suppose as a parent you just do what you have to do to get through it.  But talk about courage.  The courage to face every day and create a world of beautiful possibilities for your child in the face of such uncertainty…..these parents are truly heroic.  I pray I will never really know what that is like.

I realize that I have thought of O’s  good health as a given.  I have taken it for granted so easily.  How awful of me.  How audacious.  I think about how tough the week has been with a fussy needy sick child….and he isn’t even THAT sick.  How dare I! Talk about loss of perspective.  I need to thank my lucky stars because TODAY I have a sick little boy….but tomorrow or the next day he will be better.  And for TODAY,  my husband and I and our families are healthy.  My cousin calls it a “grace period.” It’s a window of time where everyone is doing ok.  Later? Who knows? Let’s be grateful for the good stuff, NOW.

So I will follow the Doctor’s orders.  I’ll continue to push the fluids on my little guy.  He just won’t eat yet.   And I’ll coddle and cuddle him and control his temperature with a piggyback of Baby Motrin and Infant Tylenol.  I’ll read to him and let him be fussy.  And soon he will be back to his joyful energetic self and I’ll be writing about some new struggle.  But I will not take his good health and our great fortune for granted again.  If you happen to be a parent with a child who has a challenging sickness, know that there is someone you have never met who is thinking of you and praying for your child.  In fact, I’d venture to say you have a whole army of people doing just that.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is sure she is messing it up! Thanks for reading! Xo