You must be so patient

Long ago, I worked at a grocery store. I worked there for a long time. Seven years actually. If you have ever worked at a grocery store yourself, you know that is approximately equivalent to 25 real life years. But that is not my point.

My point is that customers would often ask me, "What exactly are your future plans?" They might do this after asking me to put a plastic bag inside of a paper bag inside of a plastic bag. Other times they would ask after requesting that I put each of their 100 items in a separate bag. (Seriously, we were not so eco-friendly in 2000). I always answered, "I want to be a special education teacher."

Sometimes I did this while counting out their $19.50 total that they had decided to pay in change that they dropped onto the conveyor belt rather than my outstretched hand. Or while I listened to them instruct me on how to bag each and every item. ("My ground beef must be on top of all other meat or else it will be squished! Don't put a hole in the plastic wrapping of the paper towels because then I will make you get a new one for me!") "Oh, you must be so patient!" they would exclaim as requested that I price check the item they bought against a similar item that I would have to go find somewhere in the store.

My response was always the same too. "I guess I am."

Music I once loved

Jaded- By Aerosmith

This song reminds me of the Spring of 2001. Spring typically represents beginnings. This particular spring represented an ending for me. This song reminds me of my little black Neon with the purple racing stripe on the side, driving with the windows down, blasting music and singing this song. I think about quaint coffee shops and explaining what happened over and over again to all the people that I knew in our small little town. It reminds me of sleeping all day and night for two months straight. But it also reminds me of other things. Things that are more worth remembering, like dropping 20 pounds without doing a single thing. I listen and I think of a handmade card from this wonderful new friend, skipping statistic classes, and a beat up Chevy Cavalier with crayon on the door. I am reminded of first kisses and talking on the phone until 2 in the morning. I think about boat launches and fishing in a rowboat on a deserted lake. I am reminded of hikes, holding hands, and thinking, "Oh my goodness. I have no idea what I am in for."

Surprise!

I just realized that it was two years ago today that I found out that I was pregnant.

15 months

Dear Bugga Bugga Baby,

You are fifteen months old. I had intended to write one of these every month of your life, but I was too busy living my life with you to actually follow through every month. I would much rather smell your freshly shampooed head, or watch you finger paint, or even snuggle on the couch and watch television with you. I blinked my eyes, and in a split second, you have somehow managed to be with us for fifteen months.

Truth be told, I can't really remember what my life was like without you. And even if I could, I wouldn't want to anyway. I feel as though you have been with us forever. These past fifteen months have been the most wonderful of my life. You have such a gigantic personality. You make your mama laugh all of the time. It is so special to me to watch you develop your sense of humor. When you think something is really funny, your whole body becomes engulfed in your giggles. You can be so goofy sometimes that we both just sit there looking at each other, cracking up. Those are some of my favorite times. They will be the times that I remember for the rest of my life.

Despite your almost always sunshine-y demeanor, sometimes you are shy. You'll press your face against me when you meet new people. You have recently stopped using your signs, and have begun to use words instead, although you go back to signs if you are around someone new. It makes me feel wonderful to know that you feel safe and protected when you are with me.

This month you have started to do so many new things. You are able to point out all different body parts. I'm not just talking about eyes, nose, and mouth. Somewhere along the line you have figured out hand, feet, toes, chin, cheek, eyebrow, forehead, hair, and ears. Sometimes at night, when we are cuddling, you will say, "Nose, nose, nose, Mama" while dreamily tickling my nose. I will tickle your face back and you'll sleepily chuckle and rest your hand on my cheek.

Most notably, and surprisingly, you have learned to identify the letters "e" and "o." Wherever we go, you love to point out these letters. I don't know where you learned this, but you are so proud of yourself. The other day you were looking at Goodnight Moon, which is of your favorite books. You looked up delighted with your chubby little finger pointing to the o in goodnight, and said, "Mama, O!" The amazement on your face must have matched mine. I have a hunch that you will always amaze me.

Love always,

Mama

Learning to cook

When I got laid off from my job, I thought about all the time that I would have to focus on "those things." Those things being the things that I imagined I would spend my time doing if I didn't have to work. Things like organizing my closets and working out everyday. What I didn't count on was my then immobile baby suddenly becoming mobile, going down to one nap a day, and demanding my constant undivided attention. You know, the things that babies do when they start to toddle towards toddler-hood. Plus kissing my sweet little baby is a lot more amazing than cleaning out the sock drawer. Needless to say all of that was much better and more fun, so I didn't end up crossing items off my imaginary list with the type of relish that I had previously envisioned. I did read all the Twilight series though. And catch up on all my recorded shows on my DVR. As you can see, I utilize my time wonderfully while the little one naps.

But I suppose, I must give myself some credit. On the very top of that list was learning to cook. Mock if you will, but prior to this, my list of things that I could cook was very short. Two things short. 1. Pasta and 2. sandwiches. If I wanted to actually make myself look better, we could allow that both of these can manifest themselves in many ways, so I actually could cook many things. Of course, then I would have to remind myself that sandwiches are, ahem, not exactly considered cooking. So on this time off, I have started slowly adding to my cookbook. My favorite for a dinner is using the crock pot, which is almost always a surefire way to cook meat into some sort of texture that Bugga will actually eat. With each success has blossomed a new found love of cooking for the people that I love. My ultimate favorite is baking from scratch. Yummy, sinful goodness that often involves chocolate. If I could I would bake all day. But then I have to remind myself about #1 on my imaginary list: Lose weight. So I usually just settle for once a week. Or maybe twice.

Just in

A moment ago, Bug ran over to me and rested his head on my knee. And then my heart melted.

So long 2009

So. 2009. Is gone. How do I feel about it? Eh. I know I am so eloquent today, right? 2009 had its fair share of ups and downs. Mostly downs, with the exception of Bug. He is always an up. But really when I think about it, I'm not particularly sad that oh-nine is over. 2009 saw a great deal of unemployment for us. Meaning the husband and I both ended 2009, jobless. Here's to hoping that 2010 brings health and happiness to all!