Heartbroken and reeling

I've been fortunate enough in my life to only have brief encounters with death.  My grandfather passed away when I was 10, and my great uncle passed away last October.  I truly can't put a finger on many other deaths that have affected me.

So I write today with a broken heart.  My college roommate, a girl who I lived with for four years, has lost two of her three daughters in a tragic car accident.  Olivia, 6, and Emma, 3, sustained fatal injuries, and my roommate, who was also life-flighted, survived.  Her 4-year old daughter was home with her dad, thank God.  

Death is a part of life, but that is much easier to accept when the person has had a chance to LIVE that life. These precious babies did not.

In college, we dreamed of our future families, our future weddings (to very different men than we ended up marrying!) our future careers.  As girls do, we talked about everything.  Late night bunk conversations that turned into conversations over a good bottle of wine, and now conversations we're lucky to have through email and messaging.  But we never talked about grief, never imagined that something so tragic could happen.  And why would we?  We live in a world of rose-colored glasses, whether we adorn those glasses by choice, by circumstance, or by happenstance.  When these tragedies do happen, how do we cope? 

I keep replaying the conversation I had with her mother in my head, when she told me that the 6-year old who there was hope would survive wouldn't make it.  I am trying to take comfort in the fact that B was holding both her girls as they became angels. I just don't think there is any comfort in the loss of lives cut so short, lives just blooming and just beginning to be lived. 

Please, however religious or non religious you are, I ask that you lift up this family.  I'm not sure how you move on from such a tragedy, as the mother, father, or middle sister.  I can only pray that B has the strength to make it through the next hour, the next day, and maybe, the next year.  

I remain heartbroken.

If you would like to donate to the family (he is a college prof, she is a SAHM), here is a link to do so.  Their medical expenses and now funeral expenses are already exorbitant as the little girls will be flown home to Maryland to rest in peace.  God bless the little angels, Olivia and Emma.

Becca and Sean

A post about a new obsession and revisiting old ones...

I'm addicted. Sad to say, but I'm addicted to Downton Abbey.  I'm even more addicted to it because it's free with Amazon Prime and I can watch it on the iPad in the mornings while I drink my coffee and put my makeup on.  I knew multitasking would serve me well one day.  

I've always thought I should live in a different time period, as long as I was wealthy.  I think I would've loved London in the 1920s, or Yorkshire.  I also think I would've been well-suited to be a southern belle.  The dresses, the formalities...I love it all.  I really enjoy the characters on DA, and the plot is scandalous enough to keep your interest but still be believable.  I also love the English accents; I'm a sucker for a beautiful man with a beautiful accent (sorry Sparks).  He likes Jennifer Lawrence, I like Jude Law. Same initials, so really, there's no harm done.  

I'm on the last episode of season 3 right now, the last free streaming Amazon Prime season, and I will probably spend the $20 on season 4.  To me, the $20 is worth it for something I enjoy in the only "me" time I get.

And an old obsession...Fertility Friend. We are NOT friends, but I am back to obsessing over my chart and my symptoms.  We've been officially TTC #2 for 3 months, taking away the month I stopped breastfeeding. I have a love/hate relationship with FF. I love the women in the forums that I've "met" and befriended.  They all happen to be in their 30s, pregnancy coming easy to none of them, and I enjoy talking to other people in my situation.  I won't say much about it because I still haven't made my blog private, but the road to #2 hasn't been emotionally easy for either Sparky or me.

One more note about old friends...I spent time this week with my darling, dear friend Tabaitha.  I had forgotten how necessary friendship is.  My BFF moved across the country, and I think I've fallen into a friend rut without her.  Having a glass of wine and laughing with Tab the other night made me feel like a person again, not just a mom or a wife or a student.  We have so much history, and she's such a wonderful person. I could go on and on, but I won't. Yesterday, I was having a terrible day, and my SIL happened to text me.  I'd had a terrible morning, an argument with Sparky, and all around frustration with this TTC cycle. She knew just what to say, and I love her for it.  I'll end with this: mutual respect, love, and faith in each other are the foundation for solid, lifelong friendships. I'm blessed to have found this in the women in my life, and I'm blessed to be reminded of this in the tough times, which this week has been.

Daniel had hand, foot, and mouth virus this week in addition to pushing out 2 new bottom teeth.  It's been a rough week, to say the least, but I think we're through the worst of it.  We started putting Aquaphor on the sores on his lips and chin and he woke up looking much better.  OH and I accepted a position to read for the AP Language Exam again this year!!!! If you remember, I had to back out last year, so I'm THRILLED that I was asked again and now have the opportunity to fulfill one of my career goals. 

I know this is a random post. This week--though it's almost over--is FINALLY looking up.  I'm hoping for a + OPK this weekend and for a happy, happy right ovary and right tube.  We are wishing on a star and praying for December baby :)

A Quickie

HPTs=3, JB=0

Onto the next month...

Will post soon about little D's first birthday :) it was wonderful!

"maybe we're more like the fuzzy glove people..."

Not private quite yet...though thanks to those of you who are still reading and still want to read!

Happy Valentine's Day. I think I mentioned this last year, but Sparky and I aren't big Valentines people.  I was telling Daniel this morning when I was giving him his bottle that Valentine's Day is a day of love, but not the only day for love.  I told him every day is a day for love and that you should always tell people you love them.  He just looked at me with those precious eyes.  I know he can't understand, but he does understand affection. Hugs, kisses, and coming to lay his head on me in the middle of playing.  He tries to say I love you but it sounds like "I wa wa" or "I ba ba" or even "ba BA ba," very endearing :)

I had to do a devotion yesterday morning for all of my secondary teachers, and I mentioned that I feel love is misused more than back when I was young.  My dad always told me that HATE was a strong word and never to use the word hate.  Hate is a terrible word, and to this day, I rarely say that I HATE anything, and never do I hate anyone.  But I think we should be cautious in the way we use love as well.  Do you think that loving everything--shoes, clothes, earrings, facebook photos--has devalued the word LOVE, or do you think that the expression is appropriate for expressing effusive like?

When Sparky and I dated in HS, for an ill-fated 8 months, I told him I loved him around Christmas (we broke up for real the following April...for real because I tried to convince him to stay with me starting in February).  He said, "I don't believe anyone can love that way in high school."  This coming from an almost-16 year old.  That statement still rings in my head, and almost 7 years later when we did say I love you, he was still hesitant, probably for the same reason.  It's funny to think that now we never close a phone conversation without saying I love you.

Maybe, though, there are just different kinds of love. The love you share for good food or good wine.  The love you have for your best friends. The love you have for your family.  The passionate, heart-wrenching love you have for your spouse, and the fierce, protective, give-my-life love you have for your child.

I have learned more about love in the past year--and loved more--than I ever thought possible.  Maybe the amount of love is equivalent to the amount of dirty diapers changed? (not really).  I've also learned that love is different. Sparky was worried that I wouldn't love him as much as the baby.  I still don't think it makes sense to him that I love them differently, and one is no better or worse or stronger or weaker than the other. Now, he worries that when we do have another baby, that he won't be able to love that baby as much as he loves Daniel.  (I, on the other hand, worry about how I will do 2 bath times at once)

Love is infinite, not finite.  It is beyond us to understand that kind of love.

And now the photos I took for Valentine's Day. The chalkboard is mine ($19 on clearance at Homegoods!) and typically lives on my kitchen wall, and I got the design idea from Pinterest; not my best design, but cute for the pictures.  I used a die cut machine to cut out all the hearts and then used twine to string them.  The heart pillow is from Target and the kisses onesie is from Zulily.  I draped a white blanket and then used another white blanket as the base. I tried to catch the light in his eyes, but I was only successful in doing that when he faced the window, and the backdrop was perpendicular to the window--not perfect placement.  I'm getting better, but still not where I want to be in being able to make his eyes really stand out in pictures.

he's currently obsessed with an old teddy bear of mine

handing the heart to his daddy

Ch ch ch changes...

If you're a reader, you've noticed that my blog has been private lately for very personal reasons. No, it's not because I have some big announcement about baby #2. As of yet, there is NO  baby #2.

I'm trying to figure out the direction of my blog.  I think I am going to go private, so if you are a reader, please either leave a comment with your email address for me to add, or you can email me jmb 2007 at gmail dot com.

I love writing this blog, and I miss it.  I have so many projects that I've done in the past few weeks that I'd love to share :)

I don't know if I have many readers left out there, honestly.  All my former "friends" from when I started have left to be part of the mommy world...but if you are out there, please leave your info so I can add you to my blog reader list :)

xoxo,
J.

Smash Cake :)

Pondering

I'm trying to figure out the direction of my little blog due to some...issues...lately.  D and Sparky and I are all fine, and no, I didn't go private because I'm pregnant. AF is here in full force.

So...if you want to stick around, I'd love to have you.  If you're a current blog reader, you should be able to see my posts. Let me know...

xoxo,
JB

A Retraction of Sorts

Last Friday, I posted and subsequently un-posted about working moms.  I had been wanting to write a post about working moms for a while, but I just couldn't find the words.  After writing and publishing last Friday, I realized that I still hadn't found the right words.  I wasn't ashamed of what I'd written, but I realized that it wasn't what I wanted to say.

My best, dearest friend, who is a SAHM, texted me regarding the post, and that's what made me think. We started talking back and forth and I realized something: SAHM, working mom, it doesn't matter.  We feel the need to defend what we do, be it working or staying home.  And as my conversation with her went on, I came to that conclusion.  There is no rank or betterness to one way or the other, yet because of the judgement and strong opinions of others, we always feel the need to defend what we do.  When I stayed home with D before going back to work, Sparky would come home and I'd give him a laundry list of what I did around the house that day.  He didn't ask, but I felt the need to PROVE that I had done something, defend my staying at home.

I realize that some of my defensiveness is part of my personality.  Because I constantly feel the need to be the best at everything and feel that everyone is looking to me to be the best, I get defensive when I feel that I may not be doing something exactly right.  I guess, in this case, the "not doing something exactly right" would be staying home with my son.  And who's "right" is that?  I'm not sure it's mine, or D's, or Sparky's.

Stirrup Queens wrote a post this week about everything being "too loud." I could not agree more.  While I love Pinterest and Instagram and Facebook, for women like me who want to be everything to everyone, they are belittling reminders of what I'm not.  I love my Christmas decor until I see what so-and-so made out of empty bottles and epsom salt.  I'm happy with my crockpot dinners until so-and-so reveals that she's eating clean and shopping only organic (with a picture at a farmer's market).  I think D's nursery/outfit/younameit is perfect until so-and-so's son is wearing a personalized Christmas outfit sewn by Coco Chanel herself.  You get the point.  It's not greed or jealousy that I feel, but a feeling that makes me want to crawl back into bed, yet I know that I shouldn't be in bed, I should be crafting a nativity out of popsicle sticks and cotton balls.   I thought that turning 30 meant I wouldn't care what people thought about me; turns out, turning 30 just means that now I care what people think about my son, too.  (if you know me in real life, you're not surprised that I don't let D wear the same thing to school, ever).  I'm not sure men feel this kind of pressure, at least I know Sparky doesn't. Is this just my personality, or do others feel this too?

How do we turn down the volume?

Being a mom--no matter what kind--is hard stuff. Like, the hardest thing I've done in my life.  We all have our little shoulder devils that whisper in our ears and tell us we're not good enough because of (fill in the blank...).  We all feel the need to justify or defend ourselves.  If we stopped looking to other people's "rights" and just found our own, maybe this shoulder devil would go away, or at least become a quiet whisper, not a roaring growl.