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Back to Regular Life

Dated: 28 Sep 2009
Posted by halalamama
Category: my life
2 Comments

I’ve often heard that men get married “when they are ready,” and not a moment before, no matter how right the girl is.

More than a decade ago, I stood in Tommy’s kitchen and said, “Wow.  These [1970s green stoneware] plates are ugly.  You need to get some dishes.”

Tommy:  “When I get married, she’ll have dishes.”

Me: “Umm..you aren’t even dating anyone right now. ”

Tommy:  “Well, when I do, she’ll have dishes.”

I knew then that he would marry the next girl he dated.  And he did.  He met his wife in Oklahoma City in the middle of helping a friend move across the country and then dated her long distance until their marriage.  They have been happily married now for more than ten years.

Tommy and I have been friends since college – twenty years now – and he was always like a big brother to me, and still is.  I can rely on him for a listening ear, kind advice, and the truth about any subject that comes up.   He was my reliable wedding date and movie companion.

It was he whom I consulted when I was thinking about marrying Ismael and he asked the right question, “If you had to make a decision in this instant, what would it be?”   Without thinking, worrying, etc, my instant reply was, “I’d say yes.”  And I did.

When he moved to Oklahoma,  I was happy that he was able to start a new, exciting page in his life, but I missed him terribly.

So you may have heard me squeal on Thursday night around 9 PM when I returned his call and he said, “Well, I’m off work, in the car, and headed east toward Indiana.”  WHAT? OMGTHAT’SGREATI’MSOEXCITEDTHANKGODYOU’RECOMINGHOME.

Turns out, Tommy’s old just like me and he is had his twentieth high school reunion this past weekend.

Hooray for being old.

So I’ve been on a slight bloggy break to lead a more interesting life than I normally do.

The stars lined up just right, and on Friday night, I not only had an overnight babysitter already lined up, but Lorie was also in town.  We all met for dinner and Tommy told us ribald stories that made people stare and the rest of us laugh until the tears flowed.

It was such a good weekend!  For me.  For Ismael? Not so much.  He ate a gas station burrito on Friday morning that we were certain was going to be the cause of his death.  He waited around all weekend, slightly nauseous, waiting to get really sick and die. He took a picture of said burrito for the health department, but I’ll spare you the sight of it.

I’m extremely happy to report that he did not die or even vomit as far as I know.

And that I’m fairly certain he will now stay away from gas station food.

Tommy and Lorie have returned to their respective homes, and unless I win a lottery large enough to bribe them into moving back permanently, I will return to my regularly scheduled life.

Look Away, GQ, Look Away

Dated: 23 Sep 2009
Posted by halalamama
Category: Adam, Ismael
5 Comments

This sometimes happens when Daddy gets baby ready in the morning:

DSC03391

While this isn’t as good as the time I found him at the sitters in pink pajamas OR the time I unzipped his reindeer snow suit to find him without pants, BUT stripes and plaid?  Yuck.

I felt bad, thinking, “WOW, I really need to do laundry if that’s all that’s left in his closet.”

Nope.  Plenty of clothes.

Ismael CHOSE this stellar outfit.

Time to start laying clothes out before I go to work.

Parenting Rules

Dated: 23 Sep 2009
Posted by halalamama
Category: Adam, graces
1 Comment

If I wrote a book of parenting rules, I would include these two chapters.

1.  Your kids do not care if you are sick.

That’s right.  Have a headache?  A sore throat?  Do NOT look to your 11 month old for sympathy or even consideration.  His butt still needs changed.  He needs a bath.  And for God’s sake, he does NOT want to eat whatever it is you put in front of him tonight.  He will have crackers and string cheese with a formula chaser, thank you very much.

He doesn’t care if you lay on the couch or the floor as long as you are there.

There is beauty in that.

I realized last week that Adam doesn’t necessarily love me for my actions, but for my presence (at this point anyway).  I played with him, but was definitely less than 100 percent in my enthusiasm for it and he did not care one bit.  He smiled, laughed and crashed into me.

He was happy just to be with me.  And although I wanted to be in bed, there was happiness for me as well.

2.  Everything is trial and error.

Feed him the same food for 7 months?  Great.  Dress him in cute footie pajamas every single night of his young life.  Fabulous.

Today?  It’s all different.

Foods that he ate constantly are now refused, unless of course it is fruit.   Out of clean pajamas on Monday night, I dressed him in a long sleeve tshirt and pajama bottoms and for the first time in a month he didn’t wake me up three times in the night.  The alarm rang on Tuesday morning and I didn’t realize what the noise was.  What time was it? Did ADAM SLEEP ALL NIGHT?

Trial and error.  Error, error, error, better trial something new.

Could different pajamas be the key to nighttime sleep?  Could it work two nights in a row?

Yes. It did.

And that is the end of my short story otherwise known as “My Vast Experience as a New Parent.”