Delurkerday!

Happy Delurker Day! If you don't know what "Delurking" is, it's coming out of hiding and commenting for the first time. I don't know if I have any readers who don't comment, but if you're there, why not say hi!

I head back to work tomorrow and I'm very excited. Dean's pretty jazzed about his Manny coming to play. Marcus started teaching today.

I have to go now. Marcus and I are frantically watching re-runs of LOST from last season so we'll be caught up for hte January 21st premier event!!!!

JUST BE

That is my motto for 2009. Up until this exact moment in my life, I have, in one way or another, been waiting for "the next step." The next step has been something different with each passing year. For a while it was finishing my education. Then getting a job. Then getting the next job. Then getting promoted. Then getting married. Then having kids. Then watching Dean pass each milestone during his first year. Then buying a house. Then finding something to do with myself now that we've moved and are in our house. And it all happened. And I loved every second of it. And now, I want to sit back and enjoy it.

I really should have warned you about the bad grammar this post would contain BEFORE you committed to reading it, huh?

I'm not a maker of resolutions each new year, but I am a goal-setter. (really, the grammar is horrendous, isn't it?) I tend to set very high standards for myself, then decide that anything less is completely unacceptable. Funny how life sometimes throws a giant monkey wrench at you, huh? If 2008 taught me anything, it was that I have to be patient with myself and accept who I am and what my situation is at this very moment. And for the first time in over a year, I can tell you that today I am completely comfortable in my own skin, completely happy with where my life is right now and very, very excited about the coming months. This leads us to a revelation. (no, I'm not pregnant.) The past year has been, shall we say, rough. I know now that I have been dealing with some sort of post-partum depression and I feel like I'm ready to talk about it, like I need to talk about it. I would not open up about this on my blog normally, especially since I have a lot of readers who don't know me personally, but one of the only things that got me through a lot of days these past few months has been reading blogs. It's refreshing and reassuring to see that other people are going through the same struggles and facing the same challenges. Since moving, we have made a few friends, but none that we've really "clicked" with. I think that also has to do with the fact that we are parents now and our priorities are so different. Sure, we can socialize, but at 8:00, we want to be at home to put our kid to bed. But blogs are there 24 hours a day. Not to say they can replace human companionship, but when you're crying at 10am, your husband's at work and your baby's asleep, they sure can be comforting.

My one request is that my very close family members, who may or may not be aware of the things I talk about on here, do not use the comments section of this blog as an avenue for discussion. Call me on the phone or email me if you want to say something or ask me questions. If it's difficult for you to read these things on my blog, tell me and I'll tell you which entries to skip. It's something I need to share. My story may help someone else feel better and get through one tough day the way my "blog friends" helped me through so many last year. Also, telling about this situation makes me feel better. It's an important part of my life, even though it may be perceived as completely negative, but overcoming it has been wonderful.

As I head into new adventures, like a return to teaching, a new position with our state's theatre conference (!) and my second year of motherhood, I want to take my time and enjoy my life. After all, I've worked very hard to get here. My what-if's and when-that-happenses (again with the grammar!) are now my reality. It's time to just be.

Oh, ok, so this is really going to happen

I think I just realized that I'm really going back to work on Tuesday. It's been a thing we've talked about for a while now, but it's always been in what seemed like the distant future. Yesterday, I locked myself in the bedroom for 2 hours while Dean took a nap on Marcus and finished my syllabus. I have a few tweaks to make, but it's more or less done. Dean took an insane 2 1/2 hour nap this afternoon, so I was able to plan about 6 lectures. I'm washing my work clothes. We've arranged child care (more on that later). I go in tomorrow to fill out all my paperwork, get my ID card (which should be lovely because HELLO BREAKOUT ON MY CHIN!), get a university email account set-up and check back in with the department chair. And then on Tuesday, for the first time in a while, I will teach college students about arts management. I'm rather excited!

I'm using the same textbook that I used when I took this class back in my college/grad school days. Reading the notes I made in the margins is fun. I like seeing what I highlighted, what I thought was super-important information back then. Now that I've been working in arts management for ten years, I see how much of that was less-than-useful information and how much of it was stuff I've used every day. I also love it when I see things like "charge phone" scribbled on a page. The chapter on fundraising (not my favorite) even has a grocery list written over a pie chart. I can't remember why I wrote my grocery list in my arts management textbook, but I imagine my thought process went something like this:
Pie chart. Pie. I like pie. Winn Dixie has pie. If I go to Winn Dixie, I should also get chicken, Dr. Pepper and honey mustard.

My favorite marginal note, however is the one that is written in purple highlighter and all caps and doesn't even have an arrow to tell me what I'm referencing. It just says, "NO." Nice, college Jen, nice.



















Jen's first day of class introduction:
Hey, y'all, I'm Jen! Who wants to manage the arts?!?!?!?
No? Ok.

So, childcare. We signed Dean up for Mother's Day Out at a church MONTHS ago, but were placed on a waiting list. I called after the first of the year and was told to call back at the end of January. UGH. Cutting it so close made me nervous. Marcus had even talked about taking Dean to stage combat class with him for the first couple of days (it meets when my class does) if we didn't have it figured out by then. Because that is just what I want--my baby in the room with 12 first-time swordfighters. Anyway, Jesus heard our pleas and sent us BJ. BJ is a recent graduate from the theatre program and the oldest of four kids. And Dean? ADORES him. They've played together a lot and I noticed at the holiday party that BJ just kind of started taking care of Dean while I was refilling the crostini tray. He mentioned the other day that he didn't have a job in town yet (he's hanging around til the end of the school year). Marcus and I talked about him and today we signed him on as our Manny. (that's New York talk for "male nanny." Seriously. That's what they call them there.) There were jokes made about requiring him to wear a uniform involving a neckerchief and a beret, but we decided that might be pushing it a little. He did offer to dress like Dean each day, which we thought was charming. I feel good about leaving Dean in his care for the few hours I'll be gone those two days. Who knows? I might even have time to go get a pedicure!

Speaking of luxury, another of our students wants some Dean time on Sunday, so Marcus and I are going to a movie! Do you know the last time we went to a movie? I do. It was January 2 OF LAST YEAR! We are giddy with anticipation.

Happy 74th Birthday, Elvis!

Thanks to everyone for your super comments on the eczema issue mentioned in yesterday's post!!! I will be referencing them many times, I'm sure.

Well, well

Dean had his one-year well-baby appointment today. You want the stats? You got it!
Weight: 22 lbs. 1 oz. (50th percentile)
Height; 29 1/2 inches (50th percentile)
Head: 18 1/8 inches (75th percentile--way to go, Dean!)
Vaccinations: 3
Band-aids: 3
Books as birthday gifts from doctor: 1 (cool, huh?)
Prescriptions for nasty, horrible eczema: 2

He had his first taste of whole milk today. He spit the first sip out, but that's usually what happens with his first sip of anything. He should be walking any minute now and is finally able to eat table food for most of his meals.

The eczema is awful and I only write about it because a)I want to have a record of it and b)it might help another parent. He had a huge, nasty patch behind his knee, which is where I used to get it when I was a child. There are little patches scattered all over his body, but that one was the worst. It had gotten infected, so the dr. gave us a very mild steroid cream to help speed up his healing and an oral antibiotic. She told us to stop using the creams we'd been using and lube him up with Lubriderm. We also stopped using Johnson's baby wash in favor of (get ready) a plain white Dove beauty bar! The doctor said that is what dermatologists recommend for eczema. It was weird to have him emerge from the tub smelling like he'd just taken off his make-up instead of like a baby. Just another step in our growing process, I suppose.

The oral antibiotic has already been an adventure. When I brought it home from the pharmacy, I realized that the bottle was sealed and contained powder instead of liquid. There were instructions telling how to mix it, but I didn't really trust myself with that task. (Plus, for what it cost, the least they could do was mix it up!) I called the pharmacy and the lady said "Oooooooooooooooh, yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaah." People in Alabama sometimes talk slow, you see. "We shoulda mixed that up. Come on back." So, back to the pharmacy went Marcus. When I opened the now-correctly-mixed bottle, the aroma of orange Sweet Tarts (or in Marcus's opinion, a ground-up orange Safety Pop) hit me. We tried our usual "give it to him in the bathtub" trick, which didn't work. He spit it all over Marcus's sleeve. We tried again before bed. He gargled it. GARGLED. How does a one-year old even know how to gargle? Anyway, tomorrow morning it's going in the cereal. And I may wear a Haz-Mat suit.

Happy, happy birthday, Deano

I totally had a waffle with a candle in it this morning!

I have literally written this post a million times in my head and in "draft" form. I've read my favorite bloggers' archives to see how they put into mere words what they were feeling on their babies' first birthdays. I could say a million mushy things, but I won't. I will say that on this day last year, a little boy entered my life and my heart has been his ever since. With each passing day and each milestone, each smile and giggle, each new discovery, each goodnight hug, I love him more and more. When you're falling in love with someone, the rest of the world seems to fall away. I remember when Marcus and I were first together, we'd talk for hours about nothing in particular. Neither of us could tell you what any of those conversations were actually about, but they were some of the most important times in our relationship because they helped us learn about each other and about how we would function together. There have been times this year when the rest of the universe has seemed to fade away, leaving just our little family of three, or some days, just Dean and me. Watching the world through his eyes has been amazing.
Words are starting to fail me and Dean REALLY wants me to read his birthday book to him (again), so I leave you with my very first video montage. I was going to set it to a sappy song, but then decided to use one of Dean's favorite dancing songs, "I'm On My Way" by the Proclaimers from the Shrek 2 Soundtrack. (I think he likes it when they say "uh, huh.")


Happy first birthday, Deano. I love you to pieces.

Every day should be a birthday party!

Hey, peeps! Dean here! Mommy said I could blog today to tell you all about my birthday party, which was yesterday! The weekend was already super-exciting because my Uncle Lee came to visit all the way from Arkansas.














On Friday, my cousin Heather came over to play with me while mommy and daddy ran some errands. I took a nap on her.
On Saturday morning while mommy, daddy and Uncle Lee drank a BIG pot of coffee, someone pulled up in our driveway...it was Grammy and Papa! I was a little confused at first, but really happy to see them. AND they were carrying presents! (I know all about those from Christmas.)















Mommy made everybody put on those goofy looking hats to take pictures. She also just told me that Papa is probably going to kill her for letting me post that picture, but that's the risk we take, right fellow bloggers?
After lunch, my Aunt Meredith, Auntie M, Heather and Chase showed up and mommy said it was time for my party! I didn't really know what a party was at that point, but it sounded like fun, so I went with it. She and daddy put me in my booster chair by the Christmas tree (which I attempted to disassemble, thank you very much) and started handing me PRESENTS!!!!















I got a TON of new books (My favorite!!), some awesome blocks, a couple of DVDs, a piano and even a new car! Mommy only cried once, when she tried to read my card from her and daddy. She said we could read it later. I wondered why she's been so sappy lately and she said it's because she and daddy love me sooooo much.














Can you feel the love? (and can you dig my daddy's new short hair, no goatee look?)















I certainly can! (Jeez, guys, let a boy read his new Boynton books in peace!)
After presents and kissy-face, daddy took me to the kitchen to see my cake. He said mommy worked on it for HOURS while I was asleep Friday night, trying to make it look just like my favorite monkey friend, Stu. I think she did a good job.














Mommy said she's glad it turned out cute or else she would have had to throw the cake in the yard under a pile of leaves and submit herself to Cake Wrecks.
I had my very first taste of chocolate. At first I was skeptical.














Then I got the hang of it!














After I finished, I had a bath. Mommy says I had cake in places she didn't know cake could go!
I was on a sugar high for quite a while, so my Papa followed me while I climbed the stairs over and over and over for about an hour. I think everyone was REALLY impressed with my stair-climbing abilities! I crashed in the car on the way to dinner and had to sleep on mommy until her food came. Then I had a biscuit and some chicken and dumplins.
All in all, it was a great party and a great weekend!

Mommy will post tomorrow on my real birthday. She says this time last year she was in triage in labor and hadn't even had any drugs yet. Poor mommy.

In honor of my first birthday, I have decided to go on a baby food strike. I mean, I have two whole teeth and one more little nubber on top. Break out the table food, folks! My Grammy tried to give me baby cereal this morning, but I showed her I'm a big boy by spitting it at her. I think she got the picture, because she got mommy to give me a toasted English muffin and a pear. For lunch, I amazed mommy by eating a ton of pasta, more pear and some toast. And I only threw one piece on the floor! Now, if you'll excuse me, it's time for my daily post-nap Yo Baby. Later, peeps!

Things I have learned in the past 12 hours

On the eve of Dean's first birthday party, I've received an education from the great teacher Experience. Here are my findings:

1. There is absolutely no way to clean your house for a party the day before said party is to occur. That is, unless you send everyone currently living in your home to a hotel. Seeing as the money tree will not allow that at this time, all cleaning of the kitchen and living areas will be left until in the morning. Because Lord knows we'll be up early enough. (SLEEP, DEAN, SLEEP!)
Side note: Other moms, have you heard the tale that just before they really start walking, babies start waking up every few hours? Dean is "cruising" all over, but not walking independently yet, but he IS waking up about every four hours. Just curious if anyone else has experienced that.

2. If your husband comes to you late on the eve of the party when you've decided "What the heck? I'll start cleaning the kitchen tonight!" and tells you he's going to make beignets
for breakfast (for the first time ever, mind you), glare at him until he talks himself out of it and leaves the room.

3. The people at Wilton have obviously never actually baked a cake in one of their own pans. They give you very dramatic instructions like "ONLY coat the pan with shortening, then dust with flour! DO NOT use butter, margarine or oil!!! NEEVVVEEERRRRRRR!" Then in little, tiny 3 point font, they write "Non-stick cooking spray may be substituted for flour and shortening." Gr. Also, they think that a half-round cake pan that is approximately 6 inches deep will bake a cake in one hour. They are obviously ON CRACK. My cake? Took 1 hour 52 minutes. That time may have been shortened had I not had to pause for a few minutes to clean the burned cake globs out of the bottom of my oven when THE PAN OVERFLOWED! They tell you to put waaaaaaaaaay too much batter in there, y'all. I trimmed enough off of that cake to feed everyone coming to this party tomorrow.

4. No matter how many times they visit, I always feel the need to "show off" my house to my parents. Look! A sparkly clean bathroom! Look! Freshly vacuumed floors! Look! All the labels in the fridge are pointing out! (Ok, maybe not that last one) I think deep down I know that they are really just coming to play with Dean, but I still don't want them to think my house isn't up to par.

5. Dean does not nap well with other people in the house. Because he might miss something. He also likes salsa.

In the next few days, I hope to post party pictures, including the insane monkey cake I baked and decorated. Unless the finishing touches don't work out and it turns out to be butt-ugly, in which case I'm throwing it in the leaf pile, burning it and going to Publix for a sheet cake.