I'm don't believe in disclaimers. I think if you're going to say something, you should just say it and be completely honest about how you feel. In this case, I am making an exception.
Disclaimer: This blog reflects my personal feelings and nothing else. It does not necessarily reflect the feelings of my husband (unless otherwise stated) or anyone else I am related to in any way. I don't mean any harm, emotional or otherwise, to anyone whom I might mention here. I stay as close to the facts as I possibly can, but most of what I post here is an emotional response to my experiences. I realize that when the truth is told, feelings often get hurt and things can get uncomfortable but truth has always been more important to me than comfort. That being said...
We went to church yesterday. Something about it sets me off. Maybe not necessarily this church in particular, but all churches. I think it's no secret how I feel about organized religion, Christianity being one of them. There's just no trust there for me at all. Perhaps it comes from being led by the nose by those awful Quixtar people, but whenever I sit in a congregation of people, I have the sickening feeling I'm being lied to.
When it comes to being lied to about my eternal soul, I tend to be pretty cautious.
Of course, there's no real way of knowing. I'm sure about some people who are absolutely not trustworthy. Unfortunately, a few of them are in power. I believe part of what I'm struggling with is the dying image of what our parents told us church and Christianity were. These things are not true, or atleast, no longer true.
I think I have the rather odd (and increasingly unpopular) gift of knowing right from wrong. It's very black and white to me and when I know something is wrong, I have a very difficult time ignoring it. It's damn near impossible for me. So if you're not livin' right, steer clear. Haha.
I don't mean that to sound judgmental, though I think I'd make a pretty good judge. A real judge, not one of those "judges". You know.
Oh there's so much I could say. It only amounts to wasted words and time, though.
But I do have a couple of new and meaningful ideas I've been thinking about so maybe we'll hear from those soon.
We're going to continue going to church until we either find a place that really fits us or get sick of it altogether again. The man really enjoys the nursery. That maybe be our single biggest reason for going. We went looking for something that I believe doesn't exist anymore (and no, I don't mean God).
We have a big weekend coming up that I probably shouldn't write anything about. So I'll be taking my frustrations out elsewhere.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
One
I've been thinking about how to write about this and since nothing in particular has come to mind, I think I'll just start writing and see what happens. It hasn't really failed me yet.
It's been one year (a little over now since I've been thinking about this post for about a week) since the man first came into the world. He's a year old and healthy and beautiful and probably as happy as a boy his age can be. I couldn't have asked for a better little man.
Josh made a video with a bunch of pictures marking different times in his short little life all leading up to his first birthday. I had to watch it twice before I stopped bawling. I guess seeing his life, from the first hour at the hospital on to his first bite of birthday cupcake compressed to around three minutes really struck me. I mean the time really does fly. And he has changed so much. If you don't have a baby you probably don't realize the amazing difference between an infant and a one year old, but it's huge. He's not really a baby anymore. In fact, I know that the minute he takes his first step, he will be a toddler and my little baby will officially be gone.
I might be a little over dramatic here. I just really enjoyed this first year. It's been the most incredible experience of my life. I get to wake up every morning to the sound of a little man playing and squealing in his crib. When I walk into the room, he is standing in the corning closest to the door waiting for me with a huge smile on his face. He jumps up and down and reaches out to me and when I get close enough, he grabs and clings onto my shirt so I'll pull him up. I thank God every day for that. I know, just like the other precious little moments in his life, that it won't last long.
So as I said before, he isn't quite walking yet. He pushes things and he walks in the walker and he can certainly pull himself up and scoot around very quickly, but not quite walking. He loves animals. Every time he sees our little decrepit hamster he screams with delight. He gets a kick out of crawling all over Jax and pulling on his eyes and ears. Jax has been incredibly patient with the man's increased interest in his food bowls.
He feeds himself now. Not just bottles but everything. He isn't using utensiles, but he does pretty well with his fingers. There's not much he'll turn down. He takes after his dad in this department.
Last night he took his first bath in the real bathtub and he loved it. He finally has the freedom to splash everything in sight.
He loves to play ball but he's terrified of the vaccuum cleaner. He hates rides in the car, but he loves visiting his grand parents. We took him to the playground for the first time this weekend and he crawled all over the baby play set and slid down the slides. He loves to swing. He loves electronics and he still watches Baby Einstein though he doesn't seem to be afraid of the bugs or penguines anymore.
We took him to the beach for the first time last weekend. He loved the sand but hated the water. I'm sure all that will change by the end of the summer.
He sleeps alone in his crib, all through the night.
He's pretty tough and there is less and less that he needs me for, but when he gets hurt or feels tired or lonely, he still comes to me first. I know it's selfish, but the day that stops will feel like the end of my life. I know I'm going to be so proud of him. And I know he's going to be just fine so mostly I worry about how I'm going to deal with his ever increasing independence. I guess this is the part where most women would consider having another child but to me, I don't want another baby. I want Riley as a baby.
Now I know it seems like I might be one of those mothers that is so desperate to keep mothering that I'll keep him a baby as long as possible but that is not the case. I am extremely grounded for one so emotionally involved. I know that what's best for Riley is his growing up in a timely manner and I respect that. As I said, he does many things on his own, including feeding and sleeping two of the things mothers hang onto the longest. When the time comes for school, I will surely send him. Don't worry for the man, I won't be putting my selfish desire to keep him forever ahead of his need to move on.
With that said, I honestly look forward to this next year. This is the year of walking and learning how to talk. There will be tons of learning and exchange and exploration. He will (hopefully) start wearing shoes. He will do things on command and learn the full weight of the word "No." I'm not too sure what else a one year old can do so I guess it will be a year of discovery for both of us.
I can't wait.
It's been one year (a little over now since I've been thinking about this post for about a week) since the man first came into the world. He's a year old and healthy and beautiful and probably as happy as a boy his age can be. I couldn't have asked for a better little man.
Josh made a video with a bunch of pictures marking different times in his short little life all leading up to his first birthday. I had to watch it twice before I stopped bawling. I guess seeing his life, from the first hour at the hospital on to his first bite of birthday cupcake compressed to around three minutes really struck me. I mean the time really does fly. And he has changed so much. If you don't have a baby you probably don't realize the amazing difference between an infant and a one year old, but it's huge. He's not really a baby anymore. In fact, I know that the minute he takes his first step, he will be a toddler and my little baby will officially be gone.
I might be a little over dramatic here. I just really enjoyed this first year. It's been the most incredible experience of my life. I get to wake up every morning to the sound of a little man playing and squealing in his crib. When I walk into the room, he is standing in the corning closest to the door waiting for me with a huge smile on his face. He jumps up and down and reaches out to me and when I get close enough, he grabs and clings onto my shirt so I'll pull him up. I thank God every day for that. I know, just like the other precious little moments in his life, that it won't last long.
So as I said before, he isn't quite walking yet. He pushes things and he walks in the walker and he can certainly pull himself up and scoot around very quickly, but not quite walking. He loves animals. Every time he sees our little decrepit hamster he screams with delight. He gets a kick out of crawling all over Jax and pulling on his eyes and ears. Jax has been incredibly patient with the man's increased interest in his food bowls.
He feeds himself now. Not just bottles but everything. He isn't using utensiles, but he does pretty well with his fingers. There's not much he'll turn down. He takes after his dad in this department.
Last night he took his first bath in the real bathtub and he loved it. He finally has the freedom to splash everything in sight.
He loves to play ball but he's terrified of the vaccuum cleaner. He hates rides in the car, but he loves visiting his grand parents. We took him to the playground for the first time this weekend and he crawled all over the baby play set and slid down the slides. He loves to swing. He loves electronics and he still watches Baby Einstein though he doesn't seem to be afraid of the bugs or penguines anymore.
We took him to the beach for the first time last weekend. He loved the sand but hated the water. I'm sure all that will change by the end of the summer.
He sleeps alone in his crib, all through the night.
He's pretty tough and there is less and less that he needs me for, but when he gets hurt or feels tired or lonely, he still comes to me first. I know it's selfish, but the day that stops will feel like the end of my life. I know I'm going to be so proud of him. And I know he's going to be just fine so mostly I worry about how I'm going to deal with his ever increasing independence. I guess this is the part where most women would consider having another child but to me, I don't want another baby. I want Riley as a baby.
Now I know it seems like I might be one of those mothers that is so desperate to keep mothering that I'll keep him a baby as long as possible but that is not the case. I am extremely grounded for one so emotionally involved. I know that what's best for Riley is his growing up in a timely manner and I respect that. As I said, he does many things on his own, including feeding and sleeping two of the things mothers hang onto the longest. When the time comes for school, I will surely send him. Don't worry for the man, I won't be putting my selfish desire to keep him forever ahead of his need to move on.
With that said, I honestly look forward to this next year. This is the year of walking and learning how to talk. There will be tons of learning and exchange and exploration. He will (hopefully) start wearing shoes. He will do things on command and learn the full weight of the word "No." I'm not too sure what else a one year old can do so I guess it will be a year of discovery for both of us.
I can't wait.
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