The Strawberry Experience

A Look at Christmas '07 [....so far]

With Gram just before the Parade


Our Home Dressed in Lights
(can't tell so much here, but it is beautiful and you just love it)


Oh Christmas Tree....

Fumbles and Memories...

Dear Son,

Christmas is well upon us. Many bumps, scrapes, and bruises later, our front yard has been transformed into a winter wonderland. Our tree is beautiful - and I've bought all new Son friendly ornaments so you can touch and feel and investigate . . . although I am not certain the sugared fruits, though beautiful, were such a good idea - as you keep plucking this one apple from the tree and exclaiming "eat!!"
This past weekend we went to Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg TN for you participate in the Christmas parade - riding on the float of a children's boutique -of which the owners had invited you. The parade was large and beautiful, as was the float but of course, you know if you rode, then I had to ride. It was chilly but we made the best of it.
I'd show you some pictures of the event had I not dropped and broke my camera just as we were loading up from the hotel to head to the parade. It was a little heart breaking, but I promise to keep the memory crisp in my head to share with you for years to come.
It was still a magical weekend little one, and I can barely wait for next year.

First Trip to the Playground

A Memory

Dear Son,

We had portraits made today . . . The photographer spent nearly an hour with us -
mostly shots of you, but I had a few taken of the two of us together. You did really great - four clothing changes and all. You were a real trooper and I enjoyed every moment of it. Your grandmother had to come pick you up from the studio, as it ended up taking me nearly three hours to go over the proofs and decide what to order. They take about a hundred, then expect me to narrow it down!! [As if I wouldnt want them all!!!]

As wonderful as the entire experience was, perhaps the very best part of the day - was on the way home from church later this evening. We passed a house all lit up with Christmas lights. I turned the car around and went down the side street to the sub devision it was located in. . . I stopped in the middle of the road and before I could put the truck in park - you were already jabbering excitedly from the back seat.

I turned around to get a look at you and you were raised up from your carseat- pointing out the window with the biggest smile and and most amazing look of wonder in your eyes - you knew that was something special you were seeing and you were so very excited about it!!

It was a great feeling . ..

a great day.

Thank you for making another memory.

I love you,

Mom

Black Friday: 2007

4:00am



"you can't be serious"



1:30pm

Lullaby

They didn't have you where I come from
Never knew the best was yet to come
Life began when I saw your face
And I hear your laugh like a serenade

How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough, is forever enough
How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough
Cause I'm never, never giving you up

I slip in bed when you're asleep
To hold you close and feel your breath on me
Tomorrow there'll be so much to do
So tonight I'll drift in a dream with you

How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough, is forever enough
How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough
Cause I'm never, never giving you up

As you wander through this troubled world
In search of all things beautiful
You can close your eyes when you're miles away
And hear my voice like a serenade

How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough, is forever enough
How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough
Cause I'm never, never giving you up

N. Maines

You

Dear Son,

You sleep next to me as I type. I cannot help but to marvel at the simple and most complex beauty that is your face. How can it be . . . how can it be? I run my fingers along the outside of your ear . . . the edge of your cheek.

Such. Peace.

I love every single day with you. I lie here in this bed next to you many nights - feeling guilty about a tone I perhaps took with you - or that I didn't just give you enough undivided attention on any given day . . . oh - but Son - I hope you can somehow know. . . I hope I've imprinted it somewhere inside you -

the knowledge that you.... you, you, you are THE most important person in the world to me. That even when I am in a cave of exhaustion - it is in me to do more with you . . . for you.

I never want to be frustrated . . . never want to raise my voice . . . always want to be attentive and interested and have time and be fun and be creative and . . .

I will fail Son.

But I will always . . . always, always,

ALWAYS

try again.

Its just that simple.

I love you.

Happy Fall

The Standoff

Dear Son,

Ok . . . so you can't think bad of me or that i am not cleanly. Sometimes, stuff just happens.

Well . . .

Your mom is DEATHLY afraid of bugs. I mean, they drive me to nausea immediately. Not any ole bug mind you, (well, not so much anyway) but specifically the hard shell variety. They just . . . creep me out. [read: make me sick, want to throw up, shiver with convulsions, and there will be screaming.]

So - I'm washing dishes this morning. And, from the corner of my eye, I spy you, my little lovey with a large stainless steel spoon. You are amusing yourself greatly, using the spoon much like one would use a hockey stick . . . and you are swatting something across the kitchen floor.

I regard you, but dont really take note of what is actually happening. Then, (from my keen peripheral vision,) I see the "puck" come whizzing back my way.

Intrinsically, I just know.

We dont have "bugs" . . . if not for the reason that we are clean, then absolutely for previous stated reasons. I am just not taking any chances. Our house, is an arsenal.

But as I crept in for a closer inspection - my fears were confirmed. One had infiltrated the fortress . . .

There, staring up at me . . .
lying on his back . . .
legs wiggling . ..

was a CREATURE!!!

CREATURE CREATURE CREATURE ALERT!!

And, to make matters worse -there you were, headed full speed ahead toward me . . . and HIM - hockey stick in hand!

This seems like a good time to add the fact that, though utterly disturbed by such a disgusting form of life . . .

I am unable to kill them.

I just CANT.

And, its not as a result of my love for all things living [yeah, picture that] - its because i cant BARE the sound of them crunching beneath my feet.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

So, at times when I have been unfortunate to come to a stand off with one, I either
A) run
or
B) use the thickest heeled shoe I have as to pad against my foot feeling the crunch (the horror!)

Needless to say, now that I am almighty Mother, running isnt an option.

There I was . . . the battle of a lifetime. I see a ballerina slipper from across the room. It was going to have to do the job . . . I couldnt very well leave the room, for fear that little general would muster the strength to flip himself over and go for backup. - Or worse, that you'd go over and try to make nice.

The clock was ticking . . .

He was looking at me.
I was looking at him.
Ohhh . . . the drama.

And of course - there you are, looking at both of us - contemplating the right moment to make your move. The time was now.

I dont think my feet even hit the ground . . . it was simply one felt swoop of moving from one side of the room to the other, grabbing my shoe, back to the other side . . . [battle cry and all]

and . . .

annndddddddd . . .

CRUNCH!!!

But that isnt the end. Oh no. I should tell you now that in the few and far between instances I've been unfortunate enough to have to kill a creature - I have a little thing I like to do.

I just leave the shoe on top of it . . . until someone else comes along to pick the dearly departed up and move him to the trash.

Well - I proceeded to do just that. My shoe rested comfortably atop the carcass . . . and la la la la la - I went back to
my dish washing.

But oh no - of course you had another plan, and quickly moved in to assess the damage [i.e. you picked up the shoe - and was your way to picking up the remains . . . when I knew what I had to do]

So, with much dread - I grabbed 74 paper towels and scooped him up.

ARGHHH!!!!!! ICK!!! YUCKIEEEEEEEE!!!

And into the trash he went.

Immediately followed by my slipper might I add . . . which you oh so helpfully tossed in for me.

Cant blame you though . . .

It's not like I'll be wearing it again any time soon anyway.


Whew. The things we do when we are moms!!

I love you.

Discovery

Dear Son,

Today we played outside for quite some time . . . the air is cooler the days are easier and well - we just soaked in some of that fresh air. And you, my boy . . . discovered the sky. You were actually reaching for it. I was so thankful at that moment to have the camera by my side to capture such a treasure.

The things we [adults] take for granted.
Thank you for reminding me to look up.

I love you.

To Melt A Heart

You're Gonna Make Me Cry Some Day

Not Weird . . . Unique

Dear Son,

Let it never be said that you don't have your own . . . flare. We all have our little idiosyncrasies, and these things are to be welcomed, ushered in, and nurtured . . . they are, after all, part of our very personalities.

So this is the thing:

Many children have security blankets. If not that - then perhaps a special toy or stuffed animal they can't do without. They take it to bed, drag it around the house, take it to church and to the supermarket. Again, no big deal - it's a natural source of comfort for a child, and often a welcome relief for the parent.

You, my dear - [not unlike your mother might I add] - seem to have already developed a knack for the . . . hmmm . . . lets say unusual. You, sweet one - do not have a "security blanket." Nor do you have a binkie, blankie, wubbie, special friend or any of the above.

YOU?

You have a security hairdryer.

Thats right folks. You read it here first. I invite you to please for a moment imagine the looks we get from other Mommies as I stroll through Target - you in the front of the cart - purple hairdryer in tow . . . complete with large with diffuser attached to the end (cause you know Mama's hair tends to frizz.)

Yeah . . . whatever works.
Pictures to follow.

Update: So there you are - before church last Sunday . . . if you look carefully - you'll see the beloved - peeking from behind.

Why Bathtime Always Follows Mealtime

Just . . . wow

Yeah . . . I know theres a shadow . . .
and - I know your head is being chopped off . . .

but you were coming directly at me -
full speed ahead.

That aside - this is perhaps one of my most favorite shots of you . . .

just look at that smile.

i love you

Just So Rock and Roll

Dear Son,

Further evidence that music is just in your bones.
Whether hearing it on the radio or making your own . . . you gotta have it - and you gotta move.
Here, you were your own one man band - shirtless and all (drivin' the ladies wild already!!)

It's no surprise really though - you are the music of my life, so it seems only natural for you to love music as you do.

[ehem . . . and do note the too cool for school spidey slippers...]


Rock on baby boy.

love,

Mom

For the Record

Dear Son,

Lots of photo's as of late . . . not so many words.
So let it not be taken for granted, that though I
may not have been writing the longest of letters
these past few weeks . . .

You still knock my socks off . . . everyday.
Everyday is a joy.
A gift.
A treasure and a blessing.

When I see those big brown eyes staring back at me . . .
Nothing else in the world even comes close to mattering.

You'll never know how truly amazing you are.
Just you. Being you.

I'm so glad you're mine.

I love you.

It's a Guy Thing - You Wouldn't Understand . . . (and by "You" - I Mean "ME")

Dear Son,

I've said it before . . . . and I'll say it once again . . .
and furthermore, I will most likely stand by it for years to come . . .

it's just gotta be something in the male genes!

love,

mom

You Vs. Corn

mmm ...mmm...mmm

ATTACK!

Two Fisted Wonder
(laugh if you wanna - you know two ears are better than one)

a short break . . .

Victory!

Needless to say:
Final Score -

Luca: 2
Corn: 0

I'm a Big Kid Now

Truckin' [aka: Mom Experiments with New Camera]

Ahhh . . . The Simple Things

Dear Son,

At 16 months, you continue to teach me everyday - more than anything I've learned in all the years I've spent in a classroom.

Today's lesson?


Happiness Is:

taking down your diaper at bathtime and not finding a surprise inside.

(They just don't teach you these things at University.)

....more on conversing with you

Me: "Son . . . dont put that in your mouth."

You: "gabba gabbea shyia blee blee goo"

Me: "Son . . . Please. Dont put that in your mouth."

You: "sleayia bleah gloo gloo myeah yeeeeahhhhh. Ila sleyah!!"

Me: "Bring it to Mommy please.
Bring it to Mommy.
Coooome on, bring it to Mommy.""

You: [spin around, do a dance, wave said object in air] "slayeah mishu mishu gloomp."

Me: [with extreme authority] "Do. NOT. put. that. in. your. mouth. I'm serious." (yeah, that'll get him.)

You: [walking toward me, holding out object . . . just within my grasp . . . and . . . running in other direction]

Me: "SOOONNNN NOOOOOO! Get back here right now! I said dont put that in your mouth!

.....

Oh Son . . . . why did you put that in your mouth?"

Right Now

What we're dancing to.

Reality

Dear Son,

It's time for the truth Son. You should first know that I love you dearly . . . and second know that there is a fair chance that someone, somewhere will read this and feel it is both their moral and civic duty to report your dear mother to the Department of Social Service and Child Welfare . . . but I've decided its a chance I'm willing to take. (You gotta respect your mom for that)

Whew.

Heres the thing tiny one. Long before you were "even a twinkle in your mom's eye" (as your gram likes to say,) I was quick to say what I wouldn't let a child of mine do. These delusions multiplied once I was actually carrying you in my tummy. Oh, there were pledges of what time you'd go to bed at night, and promises of only serving you fresh vegetables and never dreaming of letting you eat carrots from a can (WHAT? with fresh ones so readily available . . . they lose all their nutrients when you put them in the can.) Ah the bliss that is ignorance Son . . . it was a wonderful world I lived in (read: had created in my mind.) And then there was the issue of cleanliness and germs. . . . (he'll never go out of doors without shoes on and I will wash every toy of his in the hottest of water and antibacterial soap after he's had a play date . . . )

*sigh*

Having said all that - I now would like to go on record as saying that at this very moment you are dragging around the mop . . . the damp, stinky, used to clean our dirty floors on a regular basis, (as recent as last evening) mop. And from time to time you will sit on the floor beside it and run your fingers through the mop strings . . . the dirty, stinking, damp mop strings. (gag)

And yes, I tried to take it away from you. Multiple times.

And yes, you fell out in the middle of the floor as though you'd received the harshest punishment
known to man.

And yes, I promptly gave it back to you.

I know I know . . . horror of horrors . . . I am a terrible parent. Terrible. Neglectful. But the thing is, I've learned to pick my battles. There are dishes to wash and lunches to make and laundry to fold . . . there is a bathroom to clean and toys to pick up (for the seventh time this morning) and boo-boos to kiss. I guess in the scheme of things . . . the mop just isn't something I'm willing to fight over today.


p.s.

I love you


EDIT: (30 minutes later)
Well, I did end up fighting over it, as you decided it would be a good idea to mop the couch. I mean, you can get it all over you all you want . .. but the COUCH?
I'm flexible Son, but I'm not just soft.

;)

The Wonder that is You

Dear Son,

What I love:

Sitting with my back against the wall in the bed where you sleep peacefully, soundly - just inches away ....
It's well after midnight now.
I turn on some music, ever - ever so softly . . . and within seconds, your little head has popped up, and you are . . .

DANCING!!

Let there never be a doubt that you, little one . . . bring joy to my soul.

First Visit to Pool

Dear Son,

Your first time in . . . and you loved it. Your cousins were there to lend a hand - but you were like an old pro.

In The Future . . . .

Note to Self (that would be me - The Mom)

In theory, Strawberry Jam on seven grain bread sounds like a good idea for lunch. (Nutritious, filling, etc.) You like strawberries, you like bread . . . no brainer right?

Wrong.

Strawberry Jam for lunch equals sticky . . . icky . . . oozy . . . everywhere. (And you were in your high chair.)

That is all.

Takin' the Wheel

I especially love how you're managing both
steering wheels in the first picture.

An Ordinary Day

Dear Son,

I watch you.

Every day.

And I'm sure it's not unlike any mother watches their child. Fifteen months, and the wonder and amazement hasn't lessened; not one iota. There are times when the very reality of you is so humbling and fascinating that it hurts. It is as if . . . . it's as if God Almighty Himself reached His very own hand down from the Heavens, pulled a piece of my heart from my chest, placed it in front of me, and said, "Here Jessica . . . cultivate this." The desire to meet your every need, teach you, be an example, a good example for you, and keep you from any harm - are greater than any desire ever born in my body.

I have many ambitions Son. Life became meaningful with the conception of you . . . and hope sprang eternal in a new and everlasting way . . . but there are still things I long to accomplish. But know this:

I can't imagine doing anything better than being your mother.

I love you.

We Two

sit in this chair together -

You
and
I

You, not in my lap
or in my arms -
simply right here . . . by my side,
one of your legs crossed over the other
just like a little old man.
I, with my own legs crossed
not unlike yours,
steal glances at you
from time to time.

Every now and again
you let your head fall
against my shoulder.
You whisper a few phrases
my head can't understand -
but heart fully comprehends.

I speculate . . .
It won't always be this way,
what, with you being a boy -
and I, your mother,
I suppose one day you'll be
"too big to sit with mom"
But for now . . . .
I imagine heaven to be something like this.

Lil' Hef